In a frenzied rush, I take a record-breaking shower, brush my teeth, throw on my carefully pre-planned outfit, and rush out the door, barely catching the cinnamon raisin bagel and juice my parents hand me, accompanied by good luck.

“Drive safe, baby!” Mom calls after me.

Dad nods. “You got this.”

I mumble something close to a “Thanks, love you!” before rushing out the door.

The drive starts fine as I pass through the familiar streets of Beverly Mills, but the closer I get to Greer, the more I feel like an imposter. The modest homes I grew up around fade into gated estates, sprawling driveways, and luxury cars that probably cost more than my entire life.

By the time I pull up to my destination, my twenty-year-old Honda sticks out like a sore thumb. If I had known I’d be interviewing at a mansion, I would’ve rented a car to keep up with the Joneses…not really.

When I park and exit my car, a uniformed staff member approaches. “Ms. Kind, welcome.” He smiles and then graciously parks my car.

I take a breath and head toward the grandest front door I’ve ever seen. My heart is pounding in my chest, and just as I raise my hand to knock, I hear the excited whispers of children through the door.

“Omg, she’s here!” A little girl squeals.

“Is she wearing pink?” Another giggles.

The door swings open, and a beautiful woman reminiscent of Angela Bassett stands before me, poised, confident, and radiating authority. Her silver-streaked hair is neatly styled, and her expression is equal parts pleasant and stern.

“You’re five minutes late, Ms. Kind.” She states flatly.

My smile falters, but I quickly recover, profusely apologizing while explaining the meticulous plans I’ve prepared for the day. She eyes me skeptically but nods, allowing me to enter.

“I’m Vicky, by the way,” she says, with intense eyes, probably still judging me.

When I step into the foyer, the reality of the moment settles in. I have one day to make a lasting impression. And I’m going to put 150% effort into this $150,000 salary.

I follow her through the mansion on high alert. Each room showcases a level of sophistication that speaks of a refined lifestyle I’m not used to. Still, I can actually feel the love within the walls.

“Before you meet the girls, you should meet their father—your potential employer,” Vicky says as we walk.

I nod, mentally prepping my best professional voice.

“He can be a bit…” She pauses as if searching for the right word. “Grumpy.”

I blink. “Grumpy?”

She chuckles. “He fights against his better judgment more often than not, but I promise you, once you get to know him, he’s adorable.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Adorable?”

“And very protective of who he allows around his daughters.” She hums.