HUSH, MY EX-CONVICT HEART

CHAPTER THREE: HER CHOICE

ZORA’S POV

On the morning of the interview, I woke up really early.

Scratch that, I could barely sleep the night before.

I kept turning and tossing in bed, nervous about how the following day would go. I looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

It was 6:30 already.

I said a quick prayer and rushed to get ready for my interview. By the time I was dressed and ready, I could perceive that breakfast was cooking.

“You didn’t have to make me breakfast,” I said as I walked into the kitchen.

Gina, who had her back against me, said,

“Of course, I had to. You…”

By now, she was facing me, a strange look of disgust on her face.

“Please, don’t tell me that’s what you’re putting on for the interview?” she asked me.

I looked down at what I was wearing and it didn’t seem bad at all.

A white blouse, a grey pair of pants that seemed a little too faded from a lot of washing, and a flat pair of shoes. My hair was in a bun and I wasn’t putting on any makeup or accessories.

“You look like you just lost your husband and are in your mourning phase,” she said.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“I don’t see anything wrong in what I am putting on. Besides, this is my best interview outfit,” I said.

Her eyes widened as if she had just heard the most disturbing news.

“Scratch breakfast, you need an entire makeover. You’re not leaving this house like this,” she said.

“Gina…” I tried to argue.

“Don’t Gina me. I'll rather kill myself than let you leave the house in this,” she said eyeing me from top to bottom.

Seeing as there was no room for escape, I followed her back into the room.

She started with my hair that I had tied up in a bun. She brushed it carefully and used a curler to curl it neatly.

“Your shoulders are tense,” she said.

“My shoulders are not tense,” I argued.

“They are. Loosen up a bit, Zo,” she replied.

And I tried to.

Next, she left the room and returned with a red summer dress, a pair of heels, a make-up kit and some jewelry.

After making me put on the dress, she started my makeup.

“I don't need this. I'm not about to go there to impress a little kid,” I said.

“Just stay calm,” she ordered and I did.

After a few minutes, she stepped back, looking at my face like an artist admiring their work.

“That’s looking more like it,” she smiled.

I got up and walked to the mirror and the person staring back at me was still me but a version of myself I had long forgotten.

The makeup was very minimal but still, it made my face brighter and more beautiful. Tears hung in my eyes but I let them stay there.

I wasn't about to let them ruin Gina's work.

I turned to Gina.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She simply smiled back.

“Breakfast is ready,” she announced as we returned to the kitchen.

“I don't have time for breakfast now. I'm running late,” I replied.

She forced a sandwich into my hands.

“Then eat this in the cab. I can't have you starve on your way to an important interview,” she said.

I pulled her into a warm hug before heading for the door.

“Go get that job,” she said as I walked out of the house.

**********************************************

The cab ride to Beverly Hills was smooth. It was a totally different vibe from Gina's neighborhood - cleaner roads, tall trees, and buildings that looked like they'd never seen a bad day.

It was a different world entirely.

When we arrived at the building I was heading to, I wasn't surprised when I saw the building.

It was just as intimidating as I had expected it to be.

A chill wind blew across the space and goosebumps engulfed me. I rang the doorbell and the door was opened by an older woman.

“Hi, I'm here for the nanny position. I'm Zora Stevens,” I stated.

“You're late. You're the last person we were waiting for,” she said sternly.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't…” I tried explaining myself.

“Come in,” she interrupted.

I followed behind her quietly. She led me to a room where six other women were waiting.

I did a little quick comparison - sharp, well-dressed, confident. That was how they all looked and a feeling of low self-esteem washed over me.

They all looked like the job was made specifically for them. But I remembered Gina's struggle with the bakery and reminded myself that I was going to do everything to help her.

With that thought, I didn't allow myself to be intimidated by the other ladies anymore.

I took my place on the last seat and folded my hands. The older woman addressed us, telling us about the little child we were going to be taking care of.

“Kira is a sweet little child but she doesn't speak. Try whatever you can not to force her to,” she mentioned.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for the child already.

Soon, the ladies were called in one after the other. Once they went in and came out, I kept my eyes fixed on their faces to watch their expressions.

It was composed but uncertain.

Eventually, I was called in for my interview.

**********************************************

I had expected to meet with the employer but instead, I was led to a room.

A little girl sat on the carpet in the middle of the room, playing with a Barbie and Ken doll.

She looked about 4 or 5 - the same age my child would be.

She was wearing a pink dress with a cute pink bow on her head and a pair of white socks with lace edges.

“Hi, I'm Zora,” I said as I walked into the room.

She looked up at me for a second.

Her eyes.

They were blue-grey and very beautiful. She was a very cute child.

She looked away and went back to what she was doing.

I didn't say a word.

I just took off my shoes and sat down on the floor across from her. She looked taken aback at first but continued playing with her dolls.

“I love Barbie too,” I mentioned.

Then I began to tell her how I had a collection of Barbie dolls when I was her age and how I loved them so much.

By the time I had finished my Barbie tales, I noticed she was listening to me very raptly.

Suddenly, she got up and walked away only to return with a Barbie-themed coloring book. I asked her if she wanted us to color it together and she nodded.

Five minutes into it, the door opened.

“Your time is up,” the older woman said.

I said my goodbyes to the pretty little girl. When I rejoined the other applicants, the Older woman addressed us again.

“This isn't like every other interview you've been to. This is quite special and that's because Kira would be choosing her nanny herself,” she said.

The room was filled with murmurings as each of us looked at the other.

Just then, the door opened and he walked out.

The other applicants gasped in shock.

I could tell he looked familiar but I was trying to remember where I had seen him from.

Just then, my mind clicked and I remembered who he was.

Fabian Kingston.

One of the city's most popular billionaires.

In his arms was Kira, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

Is she his child? I wondered.

Fabian looked different from the pictures I saw of him in the blogs and news, years ago before I went to prison.

As he walked into the room, his presence rearranged the atmosphere.

“Let's get this started,” he said.

He walked down the line, stopping in front of each woman but Kira's face remained buried in her father's neck.

Until he stopped in front of me.

She lifted her head and her blue-grey eyes found mine.

Then she looked back at her dad and nodded her head before pointing at me.

The room went silent.

My heart stopped not because she chose me.

But because of the way Fabian looked at me.

Like he already knew who I was.