CHAPTER 4

Livia

“Please hand me the documents you were required to bring upon coming here,” the secretary said, her voice dripped with boredom in the small waiting area. 

“Yes... Sure.” I swallowed hard as I rummaged through my bag, praying I didn’t drop anything on the bus ride over. I finally brought out the folder and slid it across the table.

 She began inspecting the papers with the kind of scrutiny I only expected from high-level security personnel. She flipped a page, her eyes narrowing a bit.

“I don’t see a driver’s license here,” she noted, finally looking up.

“Uhmm... that’s because I don’t have one,” I admitted. The confession felt small and pathetic in the face of her polished professionalism.

She paused mid-search, her hand frozen over my transcripts. She looked at me as if I had suddenly grown a third eye.

“How do you intend to carry out your duties as a babysitter? What if you are asked to move the child from one point to another?” she asked, giving me an incredulous look. “This isn't a playground job, Miss Throne. It requires logistics.”

“I... I just felt it would be more of an... in-house thing, you know?” I stammered, my face heating up. I desperately needed this to job.

She stared at me for sometime. And was likely calculating whether I was even worth the effort of an introduction or if she should just toss my file into the shredder right now. 

“Follow me.”

She spun around on a pair of four-inch heels and led me toward the back of the suite. We stopped in front of a heavy set of double doors with a frosted glass frame. 

She gave a faint knock and stepped inside. Barely a second later, she slipped back out, holding the door open just enough for me to pass.

“Go in. He will see you now.”

I gave a small nod and stepped inside. Immediately, I was greeted by a scent of rich masculine fragrance that smelled of something expensive.

I looked forward, and my breath caught in my throat. Sitting behind a massive desk was the same man I had seen on campus, the one I thought dressed far too seriously for simple school lectures. Up close, the intensity of his presence was overwhelming. He looked less like a professor and more like a man who owned the city and everyone in it.

His eyes instantly found mine. A flicker of recognition flashed across his face but it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared replaced by a mask of cold indifference.

“Good day, sir,” I said, trying with everything I had to keep my voice from trembling.

“Sit,” he ordered. 

I sat on the edge of the leather chair, my hands clasped tightly in my lap. He began flipping through my documents, his eyes scanning the pages. Every so often, his gaze would flick up to mine before returning to the file. The silence in the room was thick enough to choke on.

Finally, he closed the folder and leaned forward, giving me a hard stare-down that lasted a full minute. 

“From what I gather here, you are Livia Throne. Twenty-three years old. A third-year student in the Art History and Theory department. Correct?”

“Y... yes, sir.”

“Do you live alone?”

The question caught me completely off guard. I blinked, my mind racing to find the relevance. “No, I don't,” I replied.

“Parents? Siblings?” he pressed, his eyes never leaving mine. It felt less like an interview and more like an interrogation. 

“An aunt,” I said shortly. 

He nodded once, then leaned over the desk. “Tell me, Miss Throne, have you actually babysat before? I see no formal employment history regarding childcare in this file.”

I cleared my throat, trying to sound more experienced than I felt. “I haven't held a formal position at an agency. But growing up, I was the primary caretaker for the younger children in my neighborhood. I spent most of my teenage years looking after toddlers and infants while their parents worked. I have extensive experience in the practical side of it, even if I wasn't on a company payroll.”

He continued to stare at me, his expression stern. Then, he spoke again, his voice dropped to a lower tone, “Answer me honestly: is it fine with you to work for your professor?”

“How do you mean, sir?”

He leaned back in his chair, slowly folding his arms across his broad chest. The movement made the fabric of his shirt strain on his shoulders. 

“You will be working closely with me. I am not a man who entertains gossip, unnecessary chatter, or distractions, especially during your work hours. I expect you to treat this position formally and with the utmost due diligence. My private life remains private. Do you understand?”

“Of course, sir. I completely understand. Feel free to fire me the moment you see I am no longer fitting the role you assigned to me.”

I said the last part before my mind could tell my mouth to shut up. but I wanted him to know I was dead serious. I couldn't afford to lose this.

“Good,” he said, sitting up and resting his forearms on the desk. The tension in the room shifted, just a fraction. “You resume on Monday. Come to this office at 3:30 pm. Do. Not. Be. Late.”

The joy that surged through me was so intense it almost hurt. I wanted to jump up and cheer, but I kept my composure. But as the initial shock wore off, a question nagged at me. This was a babysitting gig, shouldn’t I be meeting the child?

And more than anything, I needed to be sure about the money.

“Anything else?” his question broke through my thoughts.

“Actually...” I began, twisting my fingers together. I didn't know how to say this without sounding greedy, but I had to know. “The advertisement did say the pay is $70 per hour. I am just... checking to see if that’s the intended rate.”

“That is correct,” he said, his expression unchanging. “Any problem with that?”

“Not at all, sir!” I said, practically waving my hands in the air.

“Alright. You may leave.”

I stood up, my knees feeling a little like jelly, and headed toward the door.  But just as my hand reached for the handle, his voice called out again. 

“One more thing...”

I spun around to face him, my heart jumped back into my throat. He hadn't moved, but his gaze seemed even more intense than before.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”