Broken Promises
Chapter 2
Priscilla
“Is this for real?” my best friend Adrian questioned as she took in my engagement ring. The center stone was two carats of circular perfection that sat firmly on a platinum diamond encrusted band.
“Ya damn skippy! I told you I’d get Omari, didn’t I?” I asked her before grabbing my martini and taking a sip of it. “You thought I couldn’t do it, but I knew it was only a matter of time. I mean, really, how could his frumpy wife compete with all this?”
It took six months, but I’d gotten my man. From the first moment I walked in his office, I knew I had to have him. He was fine, intelligent, and gainfully employed. Finding out he was married was only a minor issue. As far as I was concerned, that was a personal problem and if he didn’t care why should I? After all, he wasn’t the first married man I’d dated.
When I’d first told Adrian about him, she thought I was playing with fire and would find myself without a job. I could understand her concerns because, at first, Omari seemed like the perfect husband. He spoke to his wife regularly throughout the day and doted on his daughter, but even iron wears thin. Not to toot my own horn, but I’m a bad bitch and I don’t know too many men who can be around me on a daily basis without wanting a taste of my chocolate. Especially when they were in a sexless relationship with an unkempt woman; Omari had divulged quite a bit of information during one of our many late night rendezvous.
“So when’s the wedding scheduled?” Adrian asked.
“I want a spring wedding so we’re looking at six months from now. That’s fine because that gives me enough time to plan and whatnot,” I started before smiling brightly as a thought popped through my head. “After we finish eating, we should go look at some dresses.”
Abilasha
“Thanks again, Andrea. I really appreciate you letting me and Ava stay here until I can find a place of my own.”
“It’s no problem,” she waved off my words. “I still can’t believe Omari’s ass. Ugh, if I see him again I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”
“Don’t waste your breath,” I warned her. It took me a while, but I’d finally realized that Omari didn’t care about anyone but himself and his own happiness.
Andrea rolled her eyes and I knew she was going through exactly what she’d say to him if she ever passed him again. I turned my attention back to my laptop and looked for schools in the district that Ava could attend. She was going to first grade and while the child support Omari was ordered to give me was enough to support her, it wasn’t quite enough to pay for the private school we’d initially enrolled her in as well as the trip to and from it. I was reading through the reviews parents had left on the nearby public schools when Andrea called out to me from the kitchen.
“Have you found a job yet?”
“No, but I am looking-”
“That’s not why I asked you. I know you’re looking. I asked because I heard about this job through a friend of mine. There’s an opening for a nanny position near Orange County. I know it isn’t LA, but the guy’s offering forty grand a year, great health benefits, and lodging. Apparently he’s always out of town on business and needs someone in house. Being that you were a stay-at-home mom, I figured that you’d be perfect for the job,” she replied as she brought in a sheet with the job requirements and number to make an appointment for an interview.
I looked over the sheet and couldn’t help but be hopeful. A $40,000 base salary was great, especially since I had no real job experience and a daughter to raise. It was with that thought in mind, that I grabbed the cordless sitting on the coffee table and dialed the number on the advertisement.
Nitza
“So you don’t clean,” I asked the woman sitting across from me, “or cook, or do dishes, or read stories?” Why did she even bother to ask for an interview? “Well what do you do?”
“I mind children and teach them manners,” she answered stiffly. Oh, hell no. I crossed her name out and gave her a pleasant smile as I stood from my seat.
“Yes, well I think that’s it!” I spoke with a smile as I opened the door. “We’ll call you.”
She grabbed her purse and left the room as if she just knew she got the job. If she only knew. Who would have thought it’d be so hard to find a decent nanny in this town? It seemed that as soon as people found out that the nanny job was for Jason Benford III, all these unqualified gold diggers showed up and it wasn’t as if I could refuse any one of them an interview. If they knew who they were vying after, they probably would have just saved themselves the energy and the trip. Sure, Jason was attractive and the fact that he was a multi-millionaire several times over didn’t hurt, but his wife’s death hardened his heart more than I thought was possible. He just didn’t have the time or desire to love anyone but his daughter. On top of that, he wasn’t about the bullshit. If you didn’t do your job, and well, he had no use for you and would turn you out on your behind quicker than you could blink.
I’d plucked through my papers, grabbing the profile of the next applicant just as someone knocked on the door. “Come in!” I called out just as a petite Indian woman walked in. Unlike most of the women before her, she wasn’t dressed in prim suits or provocative work wear (some actually thought that Jason would be taking the time out of his insanely busy schedule to do the interviews himself). Instead, she wore a large blue silk tunic with a pair of black stretch pants and boots. It was formal enough for an interview, but casual enough for the job she was looking for.
“Hi, I’m Abilasha Gr-Basu,” she spoke. Ah, she must either be freshly married or divorced. A quick glance at her left hand caused me to put my money on the later.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Nitza,” I spoke as I shook her hand and motioned towards the seat across from my desk. “Won’t you take a seat?” She shuffled through the room and sat down in the seat and played with her fingers, looking every bit as nervous as I supposed she was. “So,” I started, “tell me why you want this job.”
“Well, a friend told me that a nanny position was open offering great benefits. Benefits that I need now that I’m raising a child on my own. It didn’t hurt that I knew this would be the perfect job for me.”
“Perfect, how?” I questioned.
“Well, everything I’m expected to do for the job are things I’ve been doing for the past six and a half years anyway. I have a six year old and so I’m well aware of how to handle the various situations that arise with having curious children around.”
“Okay, so you know you’ll be expected to cook and (in some instances) clean, right?”
“Yes, and I don’t have any problems with that.”
“How good are you with languages?” I asked her. “The job will require you to tutor the child in various subjects, the most important of those will be the child’s language skills.”
“Well, I’m completely fluent in eight languages, partially fluent in one, and familiar with one other.”
“Partially fluent? Familiar?” I asked her.
“I’m partially fluent in one language because I can only write in it and familiar with the other because I can only decode several phrases,” she explained.
“What languages are those?” I asked, pen ready.
“I’m fluent in English, Hindi, Arabic, Latin, Spanish, Italian, French and German. I’m partially fluent in Mandarin and am familiar with Japanese.”
“Wow. You’re accomplished,” I spoke impressed.
“Well, I attended Berkeley as a linguistic major,” she answered as if that was nothing. “May I ask how old the child is?”
“Her name’s Elizabeth and she’s eight.”
“Ah, so that’ll put her at the third grade,” she replied with a nod.
“Besides what I’ve already mentioned, there will also be appropriate trips that you’d be allowed and encouraged to take her, and your chid should you choose to do so, on. Like various libraries, museums...things of that nature. You know, to help her build culture. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, is there any questions you have for me?” I asked. While I didn’t want to give anything away, she was the most qualified person I’d seen in the last week. She had a degree from a great school, which suggested that she’d be able to help Elizabeth with her work as well as encourage her in the joys of learning. She was also a mother and, as such, knew what young children liked and would be able to comfortably accommodate the energetic child.
“Yes, actually. I was wondering about days off. I understand that I’d be on call since I would be a live in, but do I have any guaranteed days off?”
“If you get the job, you’ll have every Sunday off and seeing as Elizabeth is enrolled in school already, you’ll only be on duty during the mornings when you drop her off and the hours following her retrieval. You may or may not have Saturday’s off. That’s dependent on Mr. Benford’s schedule.”
Abilasha
“I think that about covers it,” Nitza spoke as she closed my file. “I’ll call you sometime during the week to let you know your status in concerns to the job.”
“Thank you,” I spoke softly and shook her hand before leaving the office.
I needed to get back to Andrea’s apartment and pack some of Ava’s things for her weekend at her father’s. Ava loved her daddy to death and I would never stand in the way of their relationship although, sometimes, it was really hard to bite my tongue when she went on and on about how ‘wonderful’ her father was. Wonderful? Maybe that was the case in her scenario but he was hardly that wonderful person for me.
Okay Asha. Stop. There’s no need to be bitter. So, Omari left you for a newer model. It’s not the end of the world.
I was driving back home after having dropped Ava off when my cell phone rang. I was going to let it go straight to voicemail, but something told me to look at the screen. My heart raced, when I recognized the same number that had been on the job advertisement I’d answered several days earlier and pulled into a small shopping area so that I could answer the phone.
“Abilasha speaking,” I spoke easily over the line, trying to mask the excitement of receiving a call back.
“Hi Abilasha, this is Nitza. I’m sorry for calling you so late in the evening, but my employer looked over your qualifications and wants to offer you the job.”
I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. I really needed this job. “Wow. Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome. We’ll need for you to come down and sign a few things before you actually move in. Is noon tomorrow a good time for you?” Nitza questioned.
“It’s perfect,” I answered her.
“Great,” she spoke firmly. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”
“You do the same,” I answered before hitting the call button.
I tossed my phone on the passenger side seat and said a thankful prayer for this opportunity before putting my car in drive and heading back to Andrea’s apartment.