The Job Hunt

As I stepped out of that office and out of the gate, I thought to myself, “why are companies so stingy, how can I work from Monday through Saturday for just N40, 000? I am a graduate for crying out loud, I spent time and money at the university”. Walking down the street, I didn’t really notice my surrounding or the look I got from people as I was engulfed in the reflection of my past.

I grew up in a very comfortable home, my parents were rich until six months before their death, I was in my first year at the university when my parents died. Six months before there death my dad’s business had crashed and my parents had to sell most of the properties to pay off loans, leaving just our house and one car behind. Barely six months after, they suffered a fatal car crash in which none of them survived. I am an only child and I was pampered to an extent, we didn’t really have any relative as my dad was an only child and lost his parents at a tender age and my mum was an orphan. Their death had an excruciating toll in my life. I had to struggle to finish University as my dad had the foresight to set some money aside, which he tagged my college fund. That, saw me through school and my service year and now I was almost at the state of being penniless, I needed a job fast. As I looked up and was about to cross to the other side of the road, I saw this huge, beautiful building, it was a lovely white and pink house, with well-trimmed flowers and a big black gate. On the gate, there was a sign on the notice board that said, “nanny/housekeeper needed”, hmm! I thought, if companies didn’t pay well, I bet the people that lived here will pay quite well, should I try my luck or not? An Economics graduate, as a nanny, that won’t be the first, I thought”. I summoned my courage, walked up to the gate and knocked.

A uniformed security man opened the gate for me, “Good day, my name is Cara, am here for the advertised job pointing at the notice board hung on the gate”, he lifted his eyebrow and looked me up and down. Well, I was coming from an interview and I guessed he thought I was overly dressed for the job. I had on, a well-tailored black corporate gown and a pair of nude coloured heels. I wasn’t a bad looking girl too, I was 5’9, with a figure Angelina Jolie would kill for, the shoes made me taller though, I was chocolate skinned and had a pretty innocent face to finish it up, I was far from innocent though as I have done a lot of crazy things. “Are you sure madam, he asked”, Yes I am, I answered. He ushered me in and asked to follow him. As we walked towards the huge house, I thought to myself, “Wow!, this people must be freaking rich”. As we got to the door step of the house, he rang the doorbell, an elderly woman answered, and the security man introduced me, he left back to his duty post as the woman ushered me into the house and offered me a sit. She introduced herself as Mrs Obi, the housekeeper and excused herself, she came back two minutes later and took me to a room or rather a study, it was so masculine, it smelled of pine and leather and it looked like rooms on magazines pages.  She told me to make myself comfortable that her “Oga” will be with me shortly and left.

I couldn’t help myself, I walked around the room in awe, on the huge desk was picture of what I guessed was the couple, “they are really beautiful” I thought. They had a boy and a girl on their laps. As I bent to pick the picture, someone cleared his throat behind me, I turned around so fast I nearly fell, as I regained my balance, before me stood the most handsome man I have ever seen, and he was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. He was like 6’3 and he had brown eyes and very pink lips, he was wearing a blue sweatshirt and black pants. “Umm…Good day Sir”, I stuttered, when I caught myself and realized I was staring. He looked puzzled and with what I assumed was a smile, he said,” Good day to you too…umm…” Cara, I supplied, Good day Cara, he said. He was staring too I realized. “If I got the job and this was my boss, am in deep shit, I thought to myself”.

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