Blake Pierce - Almost Dead

A few moments later, she spoke again.

“I am so sorry. Please accept my apologies. I did not know about the au pair position. Ms. Rossi has confirmed that this job is available, and it is the designer one that was filled. She has asked me to find out if you are still interested.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Ms. Rossi will be available for interviews this afternoon at her home, from two-thirty p.m. onwards. The first successful candidate will be hired, and will be required to start immediately. Can I message you the address?”

“Please,” Cassie said, feeling worried all over again. It sounded as if she’d have to make an instant decision about whether the job was right for her or not. She wondered what the children would be like, and that thought made her feel nauseous with nerves.

She couldn’t take the job without meeting the children, she decided. They were the ones she would be spending every day with. Their mother sounded like a wealthy woman and from Cassie’s limited experience, this meant the children might be spoiled or neglected.

When her phone buzzed again and the directions came through, she decided to drive there immediately.

After all, if she wasn’t first in the interview queue, there wouldn’t be a decision to be made at all.

Cassie reached the neighborhood just before noon. The streets were quiet and immaculately maintained, with large houses set far back from the road among well-treed gardens. Cassie guessed that in summer, when the trees were clothed in greenery, the houses would be invisible from the road.

She was surprised at the amount of security that she saw present. Every house was fenced or walled, with tall automatic gates. Cassie wasn’t sure whether the wealthy valued their security and privacy, or whether there was a crime problem in this affluent area. She suspected it was probably the former.

Driving through the streets in her small, elderly runabout, Cassie noticed a few of the locals in their brightly colored sports cars and dark SUVs peering at her suspiciously. She and her car looked out of place in this area, and people were noticing.

A few blocks further down, she found a coffee shop. She was too nervous to be hungry, but forced herself to eat a cornetto and drink a bottle of water.

Remembering that this woman obviously worked in the fashion world, and that the neighborhood was very affluent, Cassie was eager to give a good impression. She detoured to the restrooms, where she smoothed her hair down and checked that there were no crumbs on her top after eating the flaky, mascarpone-filled pastry.

Then she headed for the house and pulled up outside the ornate wrought-iron gate at exactly two minutes to two.

She was shaking with nerves, and wishing she was more confident about her own ability to decide if the job was right for her. She would have to make a snap judgment about it. There would be a lot of variables to consider and what if she missed the important ones?

It felt like a huge leap of faith to even think about going back into au pairing after the experiences she’d had. If she hadn’t been so determined to stay in the area and find out what had happened to Jacqui, she would never have considered taking this job.

Forcing herself to breathe deeply and stay calm, Cassie leaned out the window and pressed the gate buzzer.

After a pause, the gate swung open and she headed up the paved driveway which wound its way through the gardens.

She parked under an Italian olive tree, next to a triple garage, encouraged to see that there were no other cars parked nearby. Hopefully that meant she was the first applicant to arrive.

Cassie walked up the pathway to the enormous wooden front door. She rang the doorbell and heard it chime far away in the house.

She’d expected that the door would be answered by a parlor maid or assistant, but a few moments later she heard the click of high heels, and the front door was opened by a woman who looked to be about forty years old, with an unmistakable air of authority.

She was at least half a head taller than Cassie, but much of her height was thanks to an exquisite pair of peacock blue leather boots with tall, curved heels. Her dark hair was artfully styled in waves over her shoulders. A heavy gold chain gleamed around her neck, and gold bracelets jangled on her arms as she opened the door wide.

“ Buongiorno ,” she said. Her voice, too, had an authoritative ring to it. “You must be here for the au pair interview?”

“Good afternoon. Yes, I am. My name’s Cassie Vale. I’m early, I know. The lady I spoke to said two-thirty but I was worried about being late.”

Aware she was babbling nervously, Cassie closed her mouth in a hurry.

But the woman seemed pleased about her timekeeping. Her perfectly lipsticked mouth curved in a smile.

“Punctuality is a politeness. I insist on it, for myself and everyone who works with me. So I thank you for the courtesy. I am Ottavia Rossi. Please come inside.”

Overwhelmed that she’d already made a positive impression, especially since she found the woman’s presence intimidating, Cassie followed her in.

Walking into the spacious atrium, Cassie noticed a number of colorful art and décor items on display. The bright paintings, vases, and vibrant rugs stood out and made the home look like a modern, yet welcoming, art gallery.

Ahead of her was a high staircase of white marble, leading up to the top floors.

Cassie’s attention was drawn to a waist-high model of a bright red stiletto-heeled shoe which was set on a plinth to the right of the staircase. The shoe’s design was daringly exquisite.

Ms. Rossi smiled as she saw the direction of Cassie’s gaze.

“That is our ‘Nina’ model which propelled Rossi Shoes to international fame in the seventies. The design was decades ahead of its time, and as for the color, people were shocked by it—but not too scandalized to buy.”

“It’s beautiful,” Cassie said.

She guessed Ottavia Rossi must be the owner of this international company which, if it had been operational in the seventies, was most probably a long-established family business.

Ms. Rossi led her around the staircase and down a corridor. Craning her neck, Cassie glimpsed archways leading into a large modern lounge, and a gleaming kitchen where a cook was working.

Further down the corridor was a closed door. She opened it and ushered Cassie inside.

This elegant space was Ms. Rossi’s study. She sat at the curved white table and waved Cassie to a seat on the other side.

Cassie suddenly realized that she had arrived empty-handed. She hadn’t prepared a resume, or even printed out her personal details and made a copy of her passport and driver’s license. This woman was a businessperson and would surely expect it. Cassie felt horrified that she had forgotten to do this.

“I’m so sorry,” she began. “I only recently arrived in Italy and I haven’t updated my resume yet. This job opportunity was so unexpected that I rushed here wanting to know more.”

To her relief, Ms. Rossi nodded.

“I understand. I traveled extensively myself in my early twenties—you look to be that age now, if I am correct?”

Cassie nodded. “Yes. I’ve got my actual passport on me if you’d like to take a look.”

“Thank you.”

Ms. Rossi took the document and paged briefly through it before handing it back to Cassie.

“Now, you may give me a brief outline of the work you have done,” she said.

On hearing this, Cassie felt sick, because she realized that she could not even give references for any of the work she claimed to have done since being in Europe. Her first employer was involved in a murder trial and would have nothing good to say about her—in fact, Cassie was sure that he would immediately try to pin the blame on her, and insist he had been wrongfully accused.