“As I explained to you, it’s not about my restaurants. Tiger is no longer involved in my management nor in the staff I hire. He has his own business in shipbuilding and related business… However, confidentiality covers both of us, of course.”
Okay… What I can see at the moment is that they are rich and overwhelmed. In their position, of course, they control their image. It doesn’t tell me what job I’m interviewing for.
You prepare to serve food at Sexton’s and find yourself signing a deal to shut up. What’s the story?
My curiosity is piqued. Not to mention the rush to replenish my new Australian bank account. So go for confidentiality if it makes them feel better. I hesitate, then sign the sheet in triplicate. Sophia Sexton lets out a discreet sigh. At least, I guess so.
“It’s done. I’m all ears; what is your proposal?”
“Very well. Here’s the job offer,” she decides, grabbing the papers and handing some more to me.
My slightly sweaty fingers receive them. My irises come alive on the written lines. Mrs. Sexton collects the signed sheets and leaves some for me. In the meantime, her cell phone rings; she picks up and whispers to me, “take your time.”
I’m focusing. It doesn’t take long for my mind to process this information. My questions find their answers. Two other first names—Byrne and Annie—appear. I guess they are the Sexton children.
An au pair! They are looking for an au pair!
Hence the precautions; this job involves living in their house(s), sharing their daily lives. I didn’t expect that, but I think I can handle it with their children. Kids love me, so that should do it. Six-month contract, housed, fed, the jackpot in my current situation. Cool, right? I’m in the middle of my reading, my mind overexcited, when Miss Australia ends her conversation and gives me an uncertain smile.
“So?” she asks me. “Do you need time to think? I’m sorry, I have to cut this short; I have an emergency.”
“Uh… first, I’m very honored. And I want to assure you that I’m great with kids; you can trust me. I’m tempted. I’ll finish quickly and give you an immediate answer if you like.”
A fleeting expression appears on her face. Did I screw up? She looks at her watch. Damn, but yes, that’s it! For people in her sphere, time is money, and I’m wasting it. I fear that this will work against me and see this opportunity slipping away from me, so I hurry to skim over the terms. I have never absorbed so much legal jargon in such a short time. The Sexton family opens their doors to me for six months… Travel opportunities at their expense… Boy, that sounds great. No more stress of having to find a job for an entire semester! Overexcited, I turn the pages and get to the end. Sophia Sexton paces around the office, kicking her heels around the room. She doesn’t stop turning in circles.
“It’s good for me,” I say. “There is just one thing…”
I hardly dare to make my request, but not everyone is Croesus.
“I… I’m a little embarrassed to ask you since you’ve already offered me food and a place to stay for 6 months… Is that why there’s no salary mentioned?”
She stops and locks her hazel gaze on mine. I fidget and nibble the inside of my cheek.
Skip the poor beggar effect you feel and smile politely.
“Oh, don’t worry about that! There’s no way you’re not getting paid; let’s see. This field is left empty on purpose; it is up to you to indicate a number in the space. Your price will be ours.”
What? That’s it, I’m dreaming. A glittery unicorn riding by a hot rider will appear, and I will wake up disappointed.
My face must be super comical at this moment because it extracts a completely unexpected crystalline laugh from Sophia Sexton. My lips close and only then do I realize my mouth has fallen open in disbelief. In my defense, this is too crazy to be real, right? Or maybe their kids are terrors, spoiled, insufferable airheads who have exhausted the country’s supply of nannies. I can’t think of any other logical explanation.
“Really? I set my own salary?”
“Absolutely, Miss Rousseau, you have free rein within… reason. Don’t ask us to pay for a jet and a yacht,” she comments, grabbing her designer bag.
Her amused look would almost makes her approachable and friendly. Money is clearly not a concern in her world. In mine, I’m too stunned and used to “normal life” to take it lightly. I finally respond to her smile by shaking my head. Despite the shock, my cheerfulness takes over. Sophia Sexton seems so casual now that I dare make a joke, “You’re right, maybe not both at the same time. Why not get me a private jet first? That would be quite a start.”
This accentuates her laughter. She runs her fingers through her mane and seems much more… cool to me? Yes, I think.
“If you like traveling by private plane, I think we will get along well…” she answers me. “I’ll let you decide. In case you agree, fill out your initial and put this in an envelope. Mike will take care of sending me the contract. Take your time, so our lawyers will do what is necessary to send you the final document with the salary of your choice.”
It’s insane! No matter how much I pinch myself, this interview exceeded my expectations.
“Of course, we will take care of your move. Do you have a lot of stuff?”
“Uh… I don’t have a lot of stuff.”
She checks her watch again.
“Someone will contact you when it’s finalized to organize all this. I really have to go now. Bye, Océane.”
With that, she presses my shoulder and looks at me for a moment. Then the luxurious creature turns on her heels and leaves me stunned. God, is she hiring me? With four zeros for my weekly pay?
No matter how big the task is with this woman’s offspring, her children may be dirty little monsters, baby tigers as their father’s name would suggest, I’ll hang on! No way I’m letting go of this! Leaving the restaurant after the signature and the final formalities agreed with Mike, the manager, I felt like I was floating on a gigantic cloud. I have better than a job. I can’t wait!
I branch off to the beach, lay down on the sand, and grab my cell phone, freshly bought on my arrival.
A crazy contract to become an au pair. Too cool, right?
The only thing I have to deal with is that I still don’t know much about the people who hired me. The Sextons may be well known here, but I’ve never been interested in big fortunes. Whether in France or elsewhere. Nor what they do with their lives. But now, since I’m going to spend six months in the wake of these people, I need to know more.
Google, to the rescue! Almost immediately, a row of photos appears in the results. One of them catches my eye. I click, and confusion invades my neurons. A certain shock too.