A strained snort escapes her mouth. "A nanny who's worth anything would be great."
A nanny? That could be...
Before I can complete my thought, Nadine's words inevitably come to the forefront.
Unsuitable. Unprofessional. Unbearable.
A despondent sigh escapes my lips. "I hope you find someone soon," I say, realizing that this job is definitely not for me.
The blond woman stacks her documents together and then holds the whole pile demonstratively in front of my face. "I've interviewed twenty applicants today. Twelve didn't even have qualifications, but I still agreed to talk to them."
"Why?" Curiously, I sit down on the chair next to her. A relieved sigh escapes my mouth. My legs can finally rest from all the standing.
"Because no one else responded to my job posting." Leaning her head into her hands, she suddenly looks exhausted. "That was my entire selection. I was even willing to make compromises, but no one wanted..."
Suddenly, I feel sorry for her. "You have to stay positive. I'm sure someone will come along." As if to reassure myself, I nod. "And if not, just increase the salary. That will definitely work."
My words should have given her hope, but she just looks at me, shaking her head. "We already pay four thousand euros per month. The nanny would only have to take care of one child and not do any household chores."
What? That sounds too good to be true. Not only am I left almost speechless, but the guests at the neighboring table also fall silent and cast furtive glances at us.
"Where's the catch?" I blurt out because I'm sure there must be one if she can't find anyone for the job.
"You catch on quickly." Finally, there's a smile on her bright-red lips that makes her seem a little less desperate.
I put my finger on my chin. "The child is temperamental, right? It's one of those little angry monsters that wreak havoc if you take your eyes off them for even a second."
I can't decipher her gaze, but I guess I've just offended her. Maybe she can't handle her own offspring and wants to pass them off to a nanny?
"No child is inherently evil. And if yours is causing problems right now, it doesn't mean they can't be solved," I say cautiously because it just needs to be said. Because if her child is truly difficult, then they must be struggling even more than their perfectly styled mother sitting across from me.
She doesn't reply.
"Often, there's more to it than meets the eye at first. It takes time and trust to understand what burdens a child. That's what you should take. We should all take more time for the children of this world because they have so much to offer if we just let them."
I bite my lip. Why can't I just keep quiet? She'll probably jump up from her chair, call me a cheeky brat who knows nothing about life, and storm out. The curious onlookers next to us would probably even enjoy it.
I observe her reaction. But it doesn't come. This is definitely strange. I should get out of here. Confused, I reach for the cups to clear them away.
"You're mistaken." Her hand finds my forearm. "That's not the catch." Apparently, she has no intention of letting me go, so I stay. Besides, she piques my curiosity. I want to know what's going on with her child, so I look at her expectantly.
"The position is temporary until September eighth. The start date is in just a few days. July first, to be exact. The employment contract includes a comprehensive confidentiality clause, and the place of work can change at any time." As if she wants to apologize to me for these circumstances, she shrugs.
"That's not only a catch, that's an anchor for a cruise ship." It's hardly surprising that she can't find anyone. Only a terribly naive person would accept such a questionable offer.
"You seem to be good with children," she says, suddenly looking very pleased. "How so?"
Now I'm the one shrugging my shoulders. Mainly to loosen up. "Worked in a kindergarten for a few months." My tone is quite cool, considering the storm brewing inside me.
Do I see enthusiasm on her face? Yes, her eyes are shining like spotlights.
Suddenly, she leans conspiratorially across the table toward me. "Listen, I can't reveal too much without aconfidentiality agreement, but the job is fantastic. The five-year-old girl you would be looking after is incredibly sweet. You'll work in a wonderful environment and go on amazing trips." Her voice is so soft that I can barely hear the words. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Well, who wouldn't? I've never been able to afford proper travel. And with the unbelievable salary...
"Here's my card." With her dangerously long fingernails, she slides a jet-black card with golden lettering across the wooden table.
It just says Tamika with no last name. Below that is a phone number and an email address. No address, no job title.
