Chapter 3

• My scared eyes lift to hold hers, and I nod.
• “Okay?” She smiles as she pulls me into a hug.
• "Okay." I glance back in the mirror, fix my hair, and straighten my dress. I'm completely rattled.
• We walk back out and take our place next to Mr. Masters. He’s in his late thirties, immaculately dressed, and kind of attractive. His hair is dark with a sprinkle of grey.
• “Did you have a good flight?” he asks as he looks down at me.
• “Yes, thanks,” I push out. Oh, that sounded so forced. “Thank you for picking us up,” I add meekly.
• He nods with no fuss.
• Emerson smiles at the floor as she tries to hide her smile.
• That bitch is loving this shit.
• “Emerson?” a male voice calls. We all turn to see a blonde man, and Emerson’s face falls. Ha! Now it’s my turn to laugh.
• “Hello, I’m Mark.” He kisses her on the cheek and then turns to me. “You must be Brielle?”
• “Yes.” I smile then turn to Mr. Masters. “And this is…” I pause because I don’t know how to introduce him.
• “Julian Masters,” he finishes for me, adding in a strong handshake.
• Emerson and I fake smile at each other.
• Oh dear God, help me.
• Emerson stands and talks with Mark and Mr. Masters, while I stand in uncomfortable silence.
• “The car is this way.” He gestures to the right.
• I nod nervously. Oh God, don’t leave me with him.
• This is terrifying.
• “Nice to meet you, Emerson and Mark.” He shakes their hands.
• “Likewise. Please look after my friend,” Emerson whispers as her eyes flicker to mine.
• Mr. Masters nods, smiles, and then pulls my luggage behind him as he walks to the car. Emerson pulls me into an embrace. “This is shit,” I whisper into her hair.
• “It will be fine. He’s probably really nice.”
• “He doesn’t look nice,” I whisper.
• “Yeah, I agree. He looks like a tool,” Mark adds as he watches him disappear through the crowd.
• Emerson throws her new friend a dirty look, and I smirk. I think her friend is more annoying than mine, but anyway... “Mark, look after my friend, please?”
• He beats his chest like a gorilla. “Oh, I intend to.”
• Emerson’s eyes meet mine. She subtly shakes her head and I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. This guy is a dick. We both look over to see Mr. Masters looking back impatiently. “I better go,” I whisper.
• “You have my apartment details if you need me?”
• "I'll probably turn up in an hour. Tell your roommates I'm coming in case I need a key."
• She laughs and waves me off, and I go to Mr. Masters. He sees me coming and then starts to walk again.
• God, can he not even wait for me? So rude.
• He walks out of the building into the VIP parking section. I follow him in complete silence.
• Any notion that I was going to become friends with my new boss has been thrown out the window. I think he hates me already.
• Just wait until he finds out that I lied on my resume and I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. Nerves flutter in my stomach at the thought.
• We get to a large, swanky, black SUV, and he clicks it open to put my suitcase in the trunk. He opens the back door for me to get in. “Thank you.” I smile
• awkwardly as I slide into the seat. He wants me to sit in the back when the front seat is empty.
• This man is odd.
• He slides into the front seat and eventually pulls out into the traffic. All I can do is clutch my handbag in my lap.
• Should I say something? Try and make conversation?
• What will I say?
• “Do you live far from here?” I ask.
• “Twenty minutes,” he replies, his tone clipped.
• Oh…is that it? Okay, shut up now. He doesn’t want a conversation. For ten long minutes we sit in silence.
• “You can drive this car when you have the children, or we have a small minivan. The choice is yours.”
• “Oh, okay.” I pause for a moment. “Is this your car?”
• “No.” He turns onto a street and into a driveway with huge sandstone gates. “I drive a Porsche,” he replies casually. “Oh.”
• The driveway goes on and on and on. I look around at the perfectly kept grounds and rolling green hills. With every meter we pass, I feel my heart beat just that bit faster.
• As if it isn’t bad enough that I can’t do the whole nanny thing… I really can’t do the rich thing. I have no idea what to do with polite company. I don’t even know what fork to use at dinner. I’ve got myself into a right mess here.
• The house comes into focus and the blood drains from my face.
• It’s not a house, not even close. It’s a mansion, white and sandstone with a castle kind of feel to it, with six garages to the left.
• He pulls into the large circular driveway, stopping under the awning.
• "Your house is beautiful," I whisper.
• He nods, as his eyes stay fixed out front. “We are fortunate.”
• He gets out of the car and opens my door for me. I climb out as I grip my handbag with white-knuckle force. My eyes rise up to the luxurious building in front of me.
• This is an insane amount of money.