“Sure, thank you, Liz.” His blue eyes move to me. “You must be Claire.” His voice is smooth as chocolate and whiskey.

Welp. Words. How do they work again?

“I must be,” I say, apparently aiming for the stupidest thing I can say.

It makes everyone chuckle. “Call me Arlo.”

I shake his hand.

“Claire, I have unsweetened iced tea for this monster—with lemon slices—and sweetened for the rest of us, orange juice, and water, still or sparkling. Also wine, if you’re not going to judge me for it.”

It feels like a trap. This is a job interview. “I’m a bit of a lightweight. But zero judgement if you want the wine. I’d love some of that lemon iced tea?”

Arlo smiles. “See? I’m not that weird.”

“You absolutely are. She’s humoring you because she wants to impress Keller’s dad,” Lisa sums up.

I blush and start to say, “No, sweet tea’s just way too sweet for me.”

“I like you, Claire,” Arlo attests.

Coming back to the breakfast bar with all our drinks on a platter, Lisa rolls her eyes. “Weirdos, the lot of you. So, Claire. You’ve babysat before?”

I nod. “I can send you references; I did it often in high school.”

“Keller vouched for you, that’s good enough for me. When can you start, and how many hours can you do?”

“Oh—right away? But I’m thinking about adding a class to my schedule if I can. I’m not quite certain about the timing. Sorry.” That’s so unprofessional. “I have the rest of my schedule. I’ll try to make sure the new class is at a time that works for everyone…”

“School comes first,” Lisa firmly states. “At the moment, I’m only working in the mornings. If there are two or three days when you can manage the afternoon, that would be great for me to slowly get back to a full-time position. A transition period is a good idea in any case.”

We pore over the schedule, which currently frees up on Tuesday afternoons at three—today—and at one on Fridays. I have a few free slots in the morning, and if I can manage a marketing class then, it wouldn’t fuck with this job I really want, and need. Especially after Lisa tells me how much she’ll pay per hour.

“Fifty dollars,” I repeat, stunned.

Lisa shrugs. “That’s how much I paid the nannies from the agency we used to use.”

“Will not having a car be a problem?”

Arlo shakes his head. “Octavia has a driver. If you’re going out with her, you will take Florian with you, as he’s a security professional. But you should take one of the cars back to school with you in any case.”

I stare at Keller’s double. Mr. Keller senior. “What?”