Nicki is thrilled to land a job as a nanny for a wealthy, recently divorced mother of two. The pay is amazing, and the kids are angels. The only problem is their mother, Beyoncé. She's uptight, controlling, and impossible to please. The worst part...
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Nicki slipped the dress over her head and examined herself in her bedroom mirror. The shapeless shift dress was a deep shade of blue and went down past her knees. She frowned. She looked reliable, responsible, that was what she was going for. But she didn't look like herself. She pulled off the dress and tossed it onto her bed, then began flipping through her closet again. Surely she had something less frumpy that still looked professional. She needed to make a good first impression.
Nicki glanced at the alarm clock on her night stand, she only had five minutes until she had to leave for her job interview. She had a good feeling about this job. She'd been searching for a stable nanny position for months now. Over the past year she'd had jobs on and off but none of them had lasted. She'd had to deal with entitled brats, parents who treated her like a servant, or worse, parents who expected her to single handedly raise their children. However, this job sounded promising. A family she'd worked for in the past had recommended her to a friend of theirs, a divorcee named Beyoncé.
Nicki didn't know much about her other than the fact that she had twins, a boy and a girl. The address she'd been given was in an upper class suburb, so the family had to be outrageously rich. In Nicki's experience that usually meant spoiled kids and detached parents, but Nicki was staying positive. She pulled a blouse from her closet and held it up before her, it was white with a contrasting black collar. She slipped it on along with a black a line skirt and inspected herself in the mirror again. It was an improvement on the dress, although it was still a little drab for Nicki's taste.
For most of her life she'd been forced to dress conservatively, and now that she was free to experiment her tastes were on the wilder side. From her clothes to her hair, her appearance was ever changing. Over the years she'd dyed her hair every colour imaginable, from blonde to bright pink. But for now, she's gone back to a natural looking black. The kind of people wealthy enough to hire someone to take care of their kids full time didn't want pink haired nannies. They wanted only the most respectable, dependable people to watch over their little angles.
Her cell phone buzzed and she dug it out from under the pile of clothes on her bed. It was a message from her friend Lauren.
Good luck with the interview, let me know how it goes!
Nicki shot Lauren a reply and picked up her purse, tucking her phone away, it was time to get going. She paused by her dresser, then grabbed her favourite lipstick and swiped it across her lips turning them a warm shade of red before smiling into the mirror. That was more like it.
—
Nicki rang Beyoncé's doorbell. She'd never been to this part of the city before, all the houses were multi story mansions with photo perfect gardens and expensive cars parked in the driveways. But the house she stood before, a three storey mansion at the end of a quiet cul de sac, was the grandest of them all. The front door opened, and a tall blonde woman appeared. Her deep hazel eyes gazed down at Nicki on the doorstep. She had smooth cinnamon skin decorated with a myriad of beauty marks that trailed down her neck, high cheekbones and full lips. She looked to be in her early thirties. The woman gave her a tight smile.
