The Employer

Chapter 6

Marc Nassar

"I like Ms. Celeste's hair," Nina declares from her seat at the breakfast table.

"Oh, her hair is soooo pretty," Laila responds to her sister. "And her mouth is nice. Do you think she has lip gloss on?"

While the girls continue to point out every single thing possible about Celeste's appearance, I rifle through the fridge for something to feed them. I let out a frustrated sigh. I sent Heidi away so I can spend some alone time with the girls, but I have no clue what to make.

I'm also annoyed that I've been acting like a complete idiot. Every single question I asked Celeste at the table was one hundred percent not okay to ask in an interview. And if we don't hire her, she one hundred percent has grounds to sue me for discrimination. I don't think she would, but still. I'm usually not that stupid.

And Kristina had every right to call me out on my bullshit when she pulled me aside. I ended up confessing like a caught thief that Celeste and I met yesterday after the accident. When I shared my concerns about it being too coincidental, Kristina didn't seem as upset with me. But she still didn't hold back her annoyance at being sent on some made up mission with her daughter.

Fair enough.

And then while I was talking with Kristina, Melissa messaged me back with a picture and description.

Celeste Peters is a 22 year old, Caucasian. No father on record. Mother deceased. No record of criminal history. Not even a citation. Current employment is a diner called Paula's Fast Feast and prior work includes various diners across the county.

Residence looks like a small studio on the outskirts of the city. Only living relative is a younger brother who has a wife and child.

I've included a picture below. A bit young for you Marc, but hot nonetheless. ;)

I relayed some of the information with Kristina, but of course she got even more upset with me for not giving Celeste the benefit of the doubt. Okay, so Celeste was telling the truth about almost everything. But she still lied on her resume.

I should have told Kristina about the resume. I really should have. But I didn't.

Something very strange is happening. I'm caught between wanting to see Celeste win this position and not wanting her in my home ever again. I'm not sure if the former is simply because I'm taking pity on her— the woman with the despairing look in her eyes, inaudibly begging for help. If it was just pity, I'd have given her money and sent her off already. No, there's something else happening that I can't put my finger on.

And that thought leads me to never wanting her near me again. There are too many unknowns. I've always been in control, but only seconds around her prove that I'm not. When Celeste speaks and my gaze locks on her cerulean eyes, which Nina and Laila are currently harping on about, I find myself forgetting the fundamentals. My insides vibrate and my senses heighten when I think about how I haven't been able to anticipate her next move yet. 

Shit. Exhibit Z on why this woman cannot under any circumstances work in this house: I cannot have these confusing thoughts spin around in my head like a tornado when I already have so much going on.

I sigh as I spot the leftover chicken from last night's dinner at the back of the fridge. It's perfect. I'll try a lettuce wrap situation. It might be a stretch for the girls, but they need to eat it.

"So what's on the schedule for today?" I ask them as I start fixing up their plates.

"Dad, can I get a green jacket like the one Ms. Celeste has?" Laila asks, completely missing my question.