The Breeding Program (4 page)

'Perfect. The gate'll be open, just come up to the house. I'll see you then, Kate.'

'Great, I'll -'. He hung up before she could finish. He hadn't even given his name.

Kate stared at the phone for a moment, not daring to entertain the notion that she might just get the job. She couldn't believe she might be working at Green Gables, the beautiful manor house she'd passed each day on the way to school as a kid. She'd always dreamed of hopping the fence and strolling around the vast, perfectly manicured grounds. She'd imagined sitting by the pool, exploring every inch of the house. Nothing would have made her happier than to escape her own home to climb over the high walls to the manor house.

As a kid Green Gables had made a cruel joke of her own home. Just down the street, her single level house was a fraction of the size. Just one bedroom, a small kitchen, a cubbyhole of a bathroom and the lounge, the room she'd called her bedroom since she was young enough to know the word.

Kate's parents had been dirt poor, thanks in no small part to their habit of drinking their wages as soon as they arrived. They owned the house, for what it was worth, but there was never any money left over to pay the bills once the cheap whiskey and gin had been bought. Kate's past was crowded with cold, uncomfortable nights when the power had been cut off, and her whole life had become devote to escaping the nightmare of her childhood.

The house had passed to Kate by default after her parents had died: her father in a drunken car accident when Kate was in high school, and her mother just two years ago, of complications from cirrhosis. There had been no money to pass down, and with the house in desperate need of repair and the cost of college piling up Kate had turned to childcare to pay the bills.

She'd turned out to be good at it, too. She loved kids, and kids loved her. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that she'd never gotten to enjoy her own childhood, and being around kids allowed her to play all the games she'd missed while she'd been busy taking care of her parents.

Whatever the reason, she loved her job. She knew working as
au pair
wouldn't pay enough to finally escape her life of poverty, but once she'd scraped through college and into the midst of a recession she knew she'd have a better chance working in childcare than finding a way to use her degree in English Literature. Nobody needed an in depth analysis of The Canterbury Tales, but people would always need someone to look after their kids.

This job, though, would pay more than enough to fix up the house well enough to finally sell it. Without that weight around her neck she could move on, leaving the ghosts of her past behind.

She just needed to impress her - she hoped against hope - future employer.

Chapter Two

Kate fussed over her skirt as she walked up the long driveway, the gravel crunching beneath her feet and making her teeter on her heels. She smoothed her already perfectly ironed skirt as she walked, holding a manila folder containing her references under her chin as she tugged on the hem.

Kate had thought long and hard about her appearance in the hours since the call. She'd picked out and discarded a dozen outfits, eventually settling on something she called Mary Poppins chic. A navy pencil skirt reached to just above her knees and a simple, ever so slightly transparent white blouse showed a hint of the bra beneath. Her thick, dark brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail that reached between her shoulder blades. Not overtly sexy, she thought, but attractive enough to win a few points if her interviewer was that kind of guy.

Shortly before reaching the house Kate approached a woman crouched on all fours by the side of the driveway. As she neared she saw the girl, younger than she'd looked from a distance, tugging out weeds along the verge. She wore plain, dirt streaked gardening attire, but it was obvious she was showing a slight baby bump beneath her shirt. It was even more obvious that under the ground in dirt and sheen of sweat she was very attractive.

Poor girl,
thought Kate as she drew level.
What a job.

The girl noticed Kate as she passed, dropping her trowel and holding up a hand to block the sun. She gave her a friendly smile, which Kate returned.

'You're here for Samantha's job?' the girl asked brightly.  'The
au pair
?'

'Yes, I am,' replied Kate. She couldn't think of anything better to say.

The girl laughed. 'Oh, he'll like you. You look just like Sam. Good luck'

Before Kate could reply the girl turned back to her weeding, uninterested in further conversation.

Well,
thought Kate,
she's probably just pissed off I'll get to work indoors.

She reached the broad steps leading to the front door, passing between two stone lions standing guard. Kate marveled at the imposing entrance with its heavy hardwood doors and, with a deep breath, grasped the knocker and swung down.

Almost immediately the doors were swung open by a tall, well built man. In the first few moments Kate sized him up, as she sized up all her employers. Strong jaw, with faint lines surrounding his eyes and a two day beard hiding dimpled cheeks. Bright, alert, green eyes beneath dark eyebrows to match his short, neat hair. Maybe 45 years old, but very well maintained. His nails weren't manicured but were neatly trimmed, and his large hands looked strong and weathered.

Beneath his white shirt he was muscular, but they weren't gym muscles. There was nothing showy about his physique; nothing to suggest he spent hours vainly sculpting his body. He simply looked like a man who spent a lot of time outdoors doing hard, physical work, a figure at odds with his clothing.

The French cuffs of his white shirt were pinned with simple but tasteful cufflinks. Both his shirt and pants were clearly expertly tailored, and his black Oxford shoes were understated but undoubtedly expensive. A silver Omega chronograph peeked out from a cuff. No wedding ring.

All of this came to Kate in an instant. Years of judging whether her father would hug her or hit her had left her with the uncanny ability to size people up in moments. She got little from this man but an abundance confidence. He was, it was impossible to deny, the master of the house.

'Ah, you must be Kate,' he said with a broad smile. 'I'm John. Come on in.'

Without waiting for a response he turned back into the grand hallway, striding across the marble floor towards an open door to the left of the wide central staircase. There he paused, waiting for Kate to catch up and enter before him.

The room was an office cluttered with open books, newspapers and notepads. An antique mahogany desk was hidden beneath the mess, the jade leather surface only visible between piles of papers. John leaned against it, dislodging an iPad and a few sheets of paper onto the floor. Ignoring the mess he gestured for Kate to take the ragged, beaten oxblood Chesterfield armchair that sat before it.

John grinned. 'I got one rule. This is my sanctuary. As you can see, nobody cleans this room but me, and even I don't do it. You'll never set foot in here without my permission, but the rest of the house you can treat as your own. Deal?'

Kate was taken aback. 'Uh, sure, deal. No problem.'

'Then the job's yours, if you want it. You start Monday. I have to get back to work, but Samantha will show you the ropes. Matt - that's my son, Matt - he'll be with his mother for the next month, so you'll have an easy run in.' John looked over Kate's shoulder. 'Ah, here's Sam. Off you go, and good luck.'