The Employer

Chapter 7

Celeste Peters

Of course, what an asshole!

I clench my fists and take a deep breath to try to calm myself down.

I wouldn't be working for him. I wouldn't be working for him. I wouldn't be working for him.

Thankfully Kristina confirmed that thought when we continued the interview in the living room before coming to the kitchen.

After she apologized profusely for Marc's inappropriate questions earlier, and then asked me just a handful more interview questions about my working style, she filled me in on what this job would be about and the day to day. Essentially it's almost exactly what Louisa said yesterday— preparing meals for the staff and the girls on top of making weekly planning lists and doing grocery runs. And no mother of the house to feed too. I almost asked what happened but forced myself not to pry like some nosy person who sees this type of arrangement as something more than a job.

"Ay dios mio! Celeste, I am so, so, so very sorry! I will speak to Mr. Nassar about this!" Kristina says while touching her head, pulling me back to my present reality— trying to not let Marc's jab get to me. He knows nothing about me, even if he did somehow find out my age.

I take a deep breath and try to muster up a smile. "It's alright, Kristina. Like you said, I wouldn't really be working for him, right? Just morning coffee with copious amounts of sugar?" I say with sarcasm.

She laughs. "Yes, just coffee! And there is no sugar here even if you tried. Trust me, we've all tried to sneak it in at some point." She laughs again and my heart warms. Her kindness hits me like a fresh aromatic bouquet in the face. I would love to work with this woman. She is so unlike anyone I've ever worked with. Is she real or am I dreaming?

"He usually eats at work or skips a meal," she says before a deep valley forms between her eyebrows. She looks around as if someone might be peering in and then her shoulders relax slightly as she turns back to me. "I've not seen Mr. Nassar like this before," she says in a whisper like it's the hottest piece of gossip. "He is usually very quiet, and very...how do you say," she puts a finger on her chin and glances up briefly, likely searching for the word, "composed?"

"I think Marc just hates me then."

She gasps. "No, no, no! Mr. Nassar doesn't hate anyone. He's very kind to everyone. That's why I'm very confu—" Her mouth opens as if a lightbulb just went off over her head. She looks at me with wide eyes before blinking a couple of times.

I wait for her to say something but she doesn't. She just scrunches her brows while still staring at me like I just grew another limb. "What is it? What happened?" I ask.

She straightens her back and quickly shakes her head. "Nothing. Lo siento. Let's do the food trial." Her professional demeanor is back on and the woman ready to dish secrets about her boss is no longer here.

Does Marc even have secrets?

Don't do it, Celeste. Don't even think about going there. You're here to win this job, not play dress up and eat popcorn.

"Sure, what does everyone like to eat?"

Kristina rattles off a list of meals that all sound easy to make. Salads, sandwiches, fruit platters, veggie platters, and the like. "Please use whatever is available in the fridge or cupboards. I will be close by if you need anything."

I thank her and get to work. Rifling through the fridge, I think back to all the recipes I know and love. Eating healthy is something I always try to do, even if my vices include a less than healthy amount of alcohol that I'm currently trying to rectify. (And even if I'm apparently a sadist when it comes to sugar.)