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“You have no idea how rare your qualities are, River.”

I rather liked Meara and wished she’d stay rather than Ms. Feeney.

She tapped at the laptop and my phone dinged. “I’ve sent you placement details.” She explained the family’s regular manny was away for three months, and along with room and board plus a good wage, there was a definite end date.

“An end date is my favorite kind of date.” I grinned, hoping she would enjoy the joke and not glare at me.

Meara didn’t smile but she did laugh. I was tempted to bow because how often did someone who interviewed potential mannies get to laugh.

“I thought it might be.” She jerked her chin at the phone I’d pulled out of my pocket. “It’s a single father with three six-year-old daughters.”

“Triplets?”

Meara nodded.

“That sounds like fun.”

“People keep telling me that.” She didn’t sound convinced as she grabbed a folder from her desk. “And you have to sign this.”

I’d signed stacks of NDAs over the years. Rich people loved a secret, and a temp who talked didn’t get rehired. I skimmed the top line and signed at the bottom without reading the middle.

“You should never sign a document without reading it.”

Oh, we were back to Ms. Feeney. “Let me guess.” I closed the folder. “It says I can’t sell photos of the kids or gossip about the family.” I looked her in the eye. “Am I right?”

“More or less.”

“Then we’re good. I wasn’t going to do those things anyway.” I slid the folder back to her. “And I saved myself time reading that legal jargon that hurts my head.”

“The girls in the family are what I would describe as spirited.”

“Oh, do they knot the sheets together and climb out the window at night?” I’d be there to catch them and give them a stern warning while secretly admiring their sense of adventure.

Spirited was a word people gave children who didn’t conform to the norm, whatever that was. Many adults preferred children to do as they were told and not question why. The girls I was going to look after probably ate cereal for dinner and stayed up late. That might’ve been the extent of their “spiritedness.”

If I was a permanent job kinda guy, this one might’ve tempted me to stay longer. But from experience, the best work environments became stale after a few months. It was best to leave when I was still enjoying it.

“The home is out past the old quarry, twenty minutes from the last house on the road.” She hesitated before continuing. “I’ve made other special placements, so if you need to speak to another manny in a similar situation, I’ll send you his email. His name’s Cam.”

I had no idea what special placements were, but I shrugged it off.

She walked me out of the office, and I eyed the guy behind the front desk. I nudged Meara into a corner. “Your receptionist won’t be around much longer.”

Meara gasped, and she ran her gaze over him. “Is he ill?”

“No. He’s going to hand in his notice any day.”

She pulled me outside with the pretense of showing me a restaurant I’d asked about.

“I consider myself a good judge of character and that’s my job.” She pointed to the logo on the wall. “But how can you tell? Because he’s been with me for nine years.”

I rattled off details I’d noted.

“You’re good at reading people.”

“When I want to be.”

I waved goodbye, but as I drove off, Meara hadn’t moved, but she was talking on the phone. Maybe telling my new employer I was on my way or looking for another receptionist.