I walked through the door.
The parlor was the kind of room that made you feel underdressed no matter what you were wearing. High ceilings with ornate molding. Windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, letting in golden afternoon light. Furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum, arranged in a semi-circle facing the entrance.
And on that furniture, four girls.
Four almost-identical girls.
I say almost because up close, the differences were more apparent than I'd expected.
The one on the far left had short hair. Wine-red, like all of them, but cropped close to her jaw in a style that screamed rebellion. Black streaks ran through it. Her legs were thrown over the arm of a chaise lounge, combat boots dangling. She was staring at me with the kind of intensity usually reserved for prey.
Cassidy.
Next to her, practically bouncing in her seat, was a familiar face. Harlow. Her hair was the lightest shade of the four, almost rose-gold in the sunlight, with pink tips that caught the light. Twin tails today, held by ribbons that matched her sundress. She waved at me.
I didn't wave back. Probably should have.
Third from the left sat someone new. Perfect posture. Designer dress. Hair styled into waves that probably took an hour to achieve. She held a tablet in her lap, stylus poised, like she was about to take notes on my performance.
Student Council Vice President Vivienne.
And finally, apart from the others, a girl sat by the window. Her hair was longer than her sisters', falling past her shoulders in a dark curtain. The wine-red looked almost black in the shadows. She held a book, but she wasn't reading it. Her purple eyes were fixed on me, heavy-lidded, giving nothing away.
Sabrina.
"Isaiah Angelo." I stopped at what felt like an appropriate distance. "I'm here about the personal assistant position."
Silence stretched for approximately three seconds.
Then Cassidy broke it.
"You actually came."
"Was I not supposed to?"
"Most people would've run after the security processing."
"It was thorough."
"It was paranoid."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive."
"Please, sit." Vivienne gestured to an empty armchair facing the semi-circle. "We have much to discuss."
I sat.
"So." Vivienne crossed her legs, tablet at the ready. "You're aware of the position's requirements?"
"Generally. Personal assistant duties. Schedule management. Errands. That sort of thing."
"And you're aware of the compensation?"
"Ten thousand monthly. Dr. Reyes mentioned it."
Harlow made a small noise. "That's a lot of money for a high schooler! You could buy so many things! Like snacks! And clothes! And more snacks!"
"Harlow." Vivienne's voice carried a warning.
"What? I'm being supportive!"
"You're being distracting."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive!" Harlow grinned at me. "See? I can do it too!"
"Can we focus?" Cassidy sat up slightly, though her posture remained decidedly un-ladylike. "I have things to do."
"You have nothing to do. You never have anything to do."
"Can we focus?" I echoed Cassidy's words. Four heads turned to me. "I have some questions about the position."
Vivienne's eyebrow rose. "You have questions?"
"Is that unusual?"
"The previous candidates didn't ask questions. They were more concerned with... impressing us."
"I'm not here to impress you. I'm here to figure out if this job makes sense for my situation."
Another silence. This one felt different. Surprised, maybe.
Sabrina, who hadn't spoken yet, tilted her head slightly. A small movement. The only indication she was paying attention.
"Ask your questions," Vivienne said finally.
I leaned back in the very expensive chair.
"The estate is approximately half a mile from the front gate. The front gate is approximately forty-five minutes from the nearest train station, depending on traffic. Public transportation to this location is effectively non-existent."
"Your point?"
"My point is logistics. If I'm expected to be here regularly, I need to know how I'm getting here. Is transportation compensation included in the salary, or is it separate?"
The sisters exchanged glances.
"You don't have a car?" Cassidy asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Don't own one."
"Why don't you own one?"
"Because cars cost money and I allocate my money to other things. Like food. And rent."
Another exchange of glances. This one accompanied by something that looked almost like confusion.
Right. They've probably never met someone who doesn't have a car because they can't afford one.
"Transportation can be arranged," Vivienne said slowly, like she was working through the problem in real-time. "We have drivers on staff. They could collect you from the train station as needed."
"That would work. I'll need that in writing."
"In writing?"
"Employment contracts should specify all compensation and benefits. Verbal agreements are difficult to enforce."
Vivienne's expression shifted. Something like respect flickered there before disappearing. "You've done this before."
"I've had jobs before. Different jobs, but the principle is the same."
"Fair enough. What else?"
"Hours. Am I on call, or are there set schedules?"
This time, it was Harlow who answered. "Well, we were thinking you'd be available when we needed you! Like, for homework help and errands and hanging out and—"
"Harlow," Vivienne interrupted. "Let me handle this."
Harlow pouted but fell silent.
Vivienne turned back to me. "The position is flexible. Weekdays would primarily involve after-school hours. Three to eight, generally. Weekends are more intensive."
"Define intensive."
"On-call. Friday evening through Sunday evening."
"On-call meaning?"
"Meaning available. Here. At the estate."
I processed this. "You want me to stay here. Friday through Sunday. Every weekend."
"The guest suite is quite comfortable. Better than most hotels, honestly."
"That's not the issue."
"Then what is?"
"I have family."
The word hung in the air. Family. Such a simple concept. Such a complicated reality.
"You're eighteen." Vivienne checked her tablet. "Legally an adult. Why would family be a concern?"
"Because I have a fourteen-year-old sister who depends on me."
Cassidy uncrossed her legs, sitting up straighter. Harlow's perpetual smile faltered. Even Sabrina's expression shifted, just slightly. A crack in the mask.
"You have a sister." Vivienne's voice was different now. Softer.
"Yes."
"And she... depends on you?"
Too much information. You're giving them too much. Pull back.
"I can't stay here every weekend. Not overnight. She's fourteen. She shouldn't be alone that long."
"You could bring her. We have lots of rooms. She could stay too."
"That's generous. But not practical."
"Why not?"
"Because this is a job, not a vacation. And..." I stopped. Took a breath. "Because some things aren't for sale."
The silence that followed was the loudest yet.