“You want a live in?” And why was the turnover so high? Did it really have to do with the hours he kept or could that sweet little girl possibly be hiding a demon inside?
“For now, I think that’s best.” He eyed her carefully. “Interested?”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Teachers need background checks, so I can assume you’re not a criminal. You’re educated in the right department, and my daughter seemed to trust you. Plus, I’m desperate. It’s not fair to drag Addison into my stuffy office day after day when she should be playing and exploring like a regular kid.”
He glanced up the road where the mayor’s mansion towered. The historic, Georgian style house gleamed against the overcast sky. “I’m rarely home and there is an entire wing of the house that goes unused most days. I promise you would have plenty of space and there are more than enough rooms you could convert for studying. I assume you’re virtual.”
Her head was spinning. “Yes. For now.”
Skylar considered the lack of privacy at her home. She’d been sharing a bedroom with Hannah since they were babies. There was never a bathroom available when she needed one and hot water was on a rotation schedule. Plus, if the pay was actually as substantial as he made it sound, she might be able to afford more classes. They would be online, of course, because the job would be here, but still…
“How much are we actually talking?”
“Name your price.”
Did she have a price? She was currently bringing home about three hundred dollars a week. If she took the job, he’d be paying for her living expenses. That would be one less mouth for her mom and dad to feed, one less lightbulb on at night, one less shower a day. Should she deduct those expenses from her rate?
God, she sucked at negotiating for herself.
Unsure how to price such a job, she threw the ball back in his court. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re comfortable spending?”
“I’m willing to offer thirty thousand, but that’s negotiable.”
Her eyes bulged. “Thirty thousand dollars?”
“That’s a fairly low childcare salary, I believe.”
She wasn’t used to having credentials, which she supposed she now had. Huh, being an adult was pretty cool.
“Y—yes, that’s a decent starting salary.” She’d be a fool to turn him down. Was this seriously happening to her? She cleared her throat and tried to act professional. “How long would the position last?”
“Addison just turned four. She can’t start kindergarten for two years due to her birthday being in late fall. She’ll need a governess until then.”
Skylar smiled at the term governess, as it filled her head with visions of Julie Andrews twirling down a hill in the Alps and making clothing from curtains. Then her thoughts sidetracked to Jane Eyre and she catalogued how handsome her new boss was.
Stop that!
She glanced away to hide her blush. “I’ll have to let my grandfather know.”
“Of course.”
“And I’ll need some time to pack and—”
“Whatever you need. If you require a moving company, I can arrange that. Like I said, I’m desperate.”
She considered her half of the bedroom and the few items she owned. She really only needed to pack clothes and a few personal items. Maybe a couple books from her shelf. “I don’t think I’ll need a truck. I don’t have much.”
A woman in her thirties with blonde hair pushed open the door and popped her head out. “Rhett, you have a meeting with the union reps in five minutes, and Addison wants to know if she can have a snack.” She briefly glanced at Skylar, giving her a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and skipping any hello.
Mayor Buchanan sighed, appearing frazzled once more. “I’ll be right there.” His focus returned to Skylar, but he still spoke to the woman at the door. “The file on the refinery proposal is in my briefcase. Make three copies of the letter from the foreman and brew a fresh pot of coffee. Addison can have a banana.” He seemed to have a knack for focusing on multiple problems at once. “When can you start?”
Realizing he’d turned to conversation back to her, Skylar mentally stumbled through her schedule. “Tomorrow?”
“Perfect. Erin will go over the details with you.”
The woman—supposedly Erin—waited, holding open the door to Town Hall, and the mayor stepped over the threshold. “Thank you, Ms. Marcelli.”
When he said her name, the word seemed to whisper right up her spine in the form of a chill. “My pleasure.”
His eyes held hers for an additional second and she felt the strangest sensation in her stomach, but it disappeared the moment his tone returned to business. “I’ll, of course, need your background checks and all the normal payroll stuff. We can go over everything tomorrow. Be at my home before eight.”
She nodded, her attention pulling back to the familiar mayor’s mansion at the end of Main Street, just before the church. “Okay.”