Page 1 of Alpha Wolf's Nanny
Chapter 1 - Cassie
The woman glaring at her from behind the desk, with her graying hair held in place by several pencils and her lumpy, fraying cardigan, was far more menacing than someone with her appearance had any right to be.
For the second time, Cassie shifted in her chair, forcing her grin to stay firmly in place, sweat beginning to prickle at her forehead. The woman—Molly, her name was—didn’t so much as blink. She just carried on staring with those penetrating, terrifying, confidence-murdering eyes.
Cassie swallowed. “As I was saying, I’m available to start work immediately, and I—”
“Cassiopeia Blake,” Molly interrupted, one fingernail tapping against the desk. “Beautiful name, Cassiopeia. I can’t say I’ve ever met anyone namedCassiopeiabefore.”
“I prefer Cassie, actually,” Cassie replied, somewhat weakly.
Molly raised an eyebrow. “Really? If I had a name like Cassiopeia—I am pronouncing it correctly, I hope,Cassie-o-pia?”
“It’s more likeCassio-peya,” she winced, “with not as much emphasis on the…’oh. And it’s a soft…sort of…peyasound at the end.”
“Well, anyway,” Molly continued, “if I had a name like Cassio-peya, I definitely wouldn’t go by Cassie. Cassie is a nice enough name, don’t get me wrong, but a girl can go places with a name like Cassiopeia. Get people to notice her. Unless, of course, you don’t want to be noticed?”
Shit, shit, shit.
Cassie opened her mouth the answer, trying desperately to remember the line she had practiced with Phil that morning. What was it he said to say…something about emphasizing travel? A wandering spirit? All she could remember was the way his eyes caught on the stains on the sleeves of her smartest top.
Molly rolled her eyes, folding her arms with a long-suffering huff. “Oh, there’s no need to panic, dearie. We get all kinds coming to us looking for work. Funnily enough, not many girls are tripping over themselves to sign up to our agency. As long as whatever it is you’re…hmm…leaving behindwon’t make a reappearance, then as far as I’m concerned, you’ve got a shiny clean slate.”
“It won’t,” Cassie said, crumpling forward in relief, fighting the urge to take Molly’s hands. “Everything’s fine!”
If Molly had any doubts, it was obvious she was choosing to ignore them.
Because the truth was, everything wasn’t fine. It hadn’t been fine for a very long time.
She had been all of seventeen when her mom had been diagnosed. Five years ago, now. It felt like a lifetime. And her dad, her stupid, cowardly,awfuldad, had gone to the wrong sorts of people for the money for treatment.
But he hadn’t put his own name down for when the debt collectors decided to call. He had put down Cassie’s.
And then he left when she was twenty, looking after her mother full-time instead of out in the world, at college, studying, meeting people, falling in love…
Cassie shook her head. She’d made her peace with the death of those particular dreams the moment they’d gotten the phone call from the doctor.
Lung cancer, stage three. It was amazing she’d lasted three years. Perhaps if Cassie’s father had stayed, perhaps if he hadn’trun away, she would still be alive. People with stage three did live five years—Cassie had done the research herself. When she could, that is, between the extra jobs she had had to pick up.
At least the debt collectors had waited until after the funeral to send their threats. That wasmightydecent of them.
After the funeral, after three years of medical bills, Cassie didn’t have a cent to her name. And they had made it very clear, inexcruciatingdetail, what would happen if she couldn’t pay.
So two years ago, she had packed a bag and started running. And she hadn’t stopped.
“In that case,” Molly said, clearing her throat, “why don’t we start the formal interview!”
“This…this wasn’t the formal interview?’ Cassie asked, tugging her sleeves down over her hands to stop from pulling on the end of her braid.
“Of course not, dearie,” Molly laughed. “Had to get the measure of you before putting you through your paces. This one will be recorded and put on file, so just make sure any answers you give would be…acceptable to a potential client, okay?”
Cassie nodded briskly, sitting slightly straighter in her chair.
Acceptable to a potential client. Got it. I can be acceptable.
Molly nodded once before clicking on an old-fashioned tape recorder, the small mechanism whirring to life, irritatingly discordant against the drone of the air conditioning.
“So,” Molly settled down, steepling her fingers beneath her chin, “Cassie. Why do you want to be a nanny?”
