The drive back onto the Cherry Street estate seemed to accentuate Matthew's already unsettled stomach; the gum didn't help it, either. Lloyd's gas pedal felt especially sensitive, almost smashing through the second gate onto the private grounds. "I can't do this," he told himself, the old car trundling along the house's winding drive. "I'm no woman. I..." He groaned and threw his head back, the car slowing to a standstill before being shifted into park. "Why did he invite me back? He knows what he wants." He pondered what could've changed in the last couple weeks; he came up with nothing.

Lloyd's response was to roll back slightly when Matthew took his foot off the brake.

His phone buzzed with his father's number.

Groaning, Matthew ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Fuck it, whatever," he sighed, chewing the nicotine gum fervently. "I'm already here... let's get rejected again." Shifting back into first gear, he muttered, "Maybe it only really is just because I want to see Elliot's voodoo doll."

Even downcast, the house sank comfortably into the ground, it's sweeping arched roof giving the sense of shelter against the gloomy day.

Parking the car as far from the front door as possible, Matthew cleared his throat and took his plastic folder with him. Turning back to Lloyd, he whispered, "Same deal, Lloyd. And I know you can't do this, but if I die here, please, please, please don't get cut up for scrap." Tapping the hood, Matthew departed from the little blue car. He approached the front door, quickly spitting his gum into some overgrown bushes by where he assumed the kitchen was.

Mrs. Weiss answered after he knocked. "Mr. Robinson, won't you come in?" she asked, gesturing into the dark entryway, slippers in hand. "I'm surprised to see you again."

Breathlessly chuckling, Matthew wiped his feet on the mat and entered. "I would, more so, say that it's, just, sheer luck." He kneeled down to remove his shoes.

She shut the door and gestured him into the living room once the house slippers were on. "I'm a little surprised you reapplied after everything that happened. Would you like anything to drink? Mr. Yang's finishing a conference call at the moment."

Matthew sank into a low seat under the chandelier, which groaned underneath him. Everything reeked so strongly of a cold loneliness that it made him regret spitting his gum out. "I'm all right for right now. Thank you."

"What made you reapply?" she asked.

Scratching his arm, he answered, "Elliot made a voodoo doll of me. I just wanted to see how it turned out." Never before had Matthew wanted to curl into a ball and hide.

Mrs. Weiss cocked her head to the side. "Ah," she started, as if there was more to the sentence. She flattened her shirt and sat a little straighter across from him.

Matthew turned away, glancing through the glass doors to the terrace out back; his stomach couldn't settle. “I – it was also to, to see how the children were getting on, last I saw them. How's Eli's hands?”

“They're fine,” she answered quickly. The older woman breathlessly nodded. Adjusting her blouse, she added, "Your reapplying came at an opportune time, if I'm quite honest. The nanny we hired some time after your interview just quit."

'What the fuck is wrong with this guy?' he wondered, glancing around the living room. "R-really? Such a short time?" he asked.

Mrs. Weiss shrugged. "I don't think the applicants come in knowing what's fully expected of them from Mr. Yang." She paused, though Matthew felt it was deliberate. "The job is...” The woman clicked her teeth. “...well, it can be quite grueling, if I'm honest."

He swallowed. "That...sounds ominous," he chuckled, hoping it would lighten the mood.

The woman smiled and nodded, glancing away.

Matthew turned away, eyeing some water-stained walls with a good helping of dust on the room's edges. 'At least this probably won't be as bad as the actual interview.'

She turned her eyes towards the dining room before bringing her gaze back to Matthew. He thin smile still warm yet professional, she chuckled. "I do apologize, Mr. Robinson. I don't mean to rattle you like this. Mr. Yang has become increasingly impatient with those who take on this role. He expects a bit."

"Wel – wait, what does he expect?"

"Mr. Robinson."

Matthew immediately stood and turned.

Mr. Yang, standing in the hall to his office, straightened the front of his suit jacket. His decorated house slippers clashed wonderfully with the rest of his ensemble. His brown eyes dipped to the cuffs of his jacket. "Deborah, I've finished my call. Please ensure the children have had their lunch. If not, please prepare something for them."

Mrs. Weiss nodded, stood, and retreated to the kitchen.

Fixing the ends of his sleeves, his glare moving to Matthew, he asked, "Mr. Robinson, would you like to follow me?"

Matthew fumbled to his feet, following the older man toward his office, the stench of smoked cigars pungent as he followed. He was in secondhand heaven.

Mr. Yang closed the door behind him, and swooped into his padded seat behind the desk. Hands clasped on his desk, he started by asking, "I feel the need to state that the position, including my desire for the applicant to be female, has not changed."

He nodded, swallowing. "Yes, sir. I'm aware."

"Yet, you reapplied."

"I...don't understand," Matthew began. "I mean, I saw the advertisement still up, and I wanted to know how the children were getting on since I last saw them."

"...hm." This was short and quiet, contemplative almost. Mr. Yang leaned back in his chair for a moment.

“If I may ask, sir, why did you invite me back if what you're looking for hasn't changed?”

The older man's face twisted into a disappointed snarl before he sighed, rolling his eyes. “You seem to be on the same wavelength as my daughter, Lilliana.” He sighed. “She wanted to know how the interview went and hoped I wasn't too much of a...'mean potato' to you.”

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smirking.

“Having just recently lost our previous nanny after a measly five days, your reapplying seemed quite opportune for me. That being said, I would like to further discuss the details of the position with you."

Matthew's eyes narrowed.

"Consider it as a 'part two' of the initial application process." Sitting a little taller, Mr. Yang smoothed out the creases on his sleeves. "Many applicants have come in thinking the position is one thing, then end up feeling quite put-off by the work I ask them to accomplish."

He nodded. "Mrs. Weiss was saying something about it before you came in."

Mr. Yang nodded. "Yes, so I'm amending the interview process, so applicants don't feel so...overwhelmed by what I'm asking of them."

Nodding again, Matthew's eyes stayed fixed on the man on the other side of the desk. "Wait, hold on. Am I the guinea pig in all this?"

The older man shook his head. "No." Leaning down, Mr. Yang withdrew a paper from his desk drawer. "Unfortunately, you are not my first applicant I've explained the job to, on this scale," he explained, flattening the paper on the tabletop.

Matthew recognized it as his resume.

"Yes. Well, as the advertisement stipulated, I'm looking for someone with strong organizational skills, creative problem solving, and someone who can encourage the children's interests in a...for lack of a better word, manageable manner. This includes curbing Elliot's more...unsociable behaviors and interests, as well as providing a healthy model of behavior for them to learn from." Mr. Yang swiped his hand over the resume. "Additional duties include ensuring the children are fed with three good, hearty meals a day, preferably vegetarian-based, managing their daily routines, organizing outings one to two times a month to ensure their routines are not stagnant, teaching them conflict resolution, helping with homework when the school year begins, dropping them off at school, and so on." He stood. "You will also be in charge of any and all shopping that needs to be completed, from light bulbs to groceries to cleaning products to the children's clothes. The proper funds, including money for gas, will be provided for." He paused. "Any questions so far?"

Matthew found himself raising his hand. He immediately dropped it, biting the inside of his cheek. "I'm not a strong cook, sir. In the hypothetical event that you offer me the position."

Mr. Yang blinked, glare softened for a moment only to harden in what looked like disgust. "In the hypothetical event that I do offer you the position," he paused, taking in a slow breath, "I suggest you start learning."

He glanced away, swallowing back the nerves in his stomach.

"Additional duties include notifying me when dinners are ready, as I've been trying to make time to eat with the children. If I am busy and am unable to attend dinner, my meal needs to be set aside in the refrigerator; microwavable at worst, reheated, by the nanny, at best. My job allows me to work from home, but there are unspecified weekends, weeks, and days where I will be called out of town or state. In response to my schedule being as hectic as it is, any person who accepts the position will have to live in the house, so as not to agitate any situation that comes up. Any work-related calls to the house, should I not take them, will also be managed by the nanny, ensuring that the calling party knows I am gone, and notifying me that the call occurred." Mr. Yang paused again. "Any questions?"

Matthew shook his head. Something about the man's voice cut cold through him.

"The nanny will also be in charge of the management of the estate, specifically the upkeep, from cleaning to repairs. I am in charge of the finances, while they will be in charge of any repairs needed to ensure its structural safety and inhabitants' safety. Fixing leaks, getting the tools to patch something, or calling someone, that's their job. Should the nanny need to make structural or visual changes, as this is a historically landmarked structure, they will need to go through the necessary channels before making any changes. Is anything I just said unclear?"

He regretted getting out of the car. He so wished he had a cigarette with him.

"Every weekday after 7:30 PM and every other Sunday are yours to do with what you'd like unless otherwise notified; weekdays you are on call until the children are put to bed at the latest. I will also be asking whoever accepts this position to assist in corporate functions held here, be it simply waiting on guests. The position is full-time, for obvious reasons. Pay is competitive, for obvious reasons, as well. As I'm asking you to perform duties that a housekeeper, maid, secretary, and hired help would typically do, starting salary would begin at $50,000 annually with opportunities for bonuses should the work be satisfactory, with a medical and dental plan included. If that does not sit well with you, I'm afraid I cannot go higher than that. "

A deepening nauseous pit formed in Matthew's stomach.

"Should the field study assessment be in your favor, I will be performing background checks to ensure the honesty of your answers from our first interview, as well as. checking the authenticity of your resume, to ensure work ethic and quality of character. At least three references are required, which you have already submitted. Upon hiring, I will be studying your performance over the next two weeks. When that period is over, I, personally, will re-evaluate whether the position is right for you. If it is, then we will discuss pay and benefits more in-depth. If it isn't, you will be let go, and I will not be providing a reference for you. Should you feel the need to lodge a complaint with me, please know that there are no official channels currently against individuals hiring independently for nannies. However, I'm certain that there are already complaints against me filed at several different nanny agencies, so you can try there." Mr. Yang paused. "Do you have any questions regarding the position, Mr. Robinson?"

His head spun. Everything in him screamed to run. It was too much. Way too much. How could he be so nonchalant in expecting one person to do everything he expected? No wonder everyone quit. Matthew needed to leave. He had to. He'd probably die if he took the job. There was, there was just so much. He couldn't cook. Looking after one kid was enough, but looking after the house, two kids, and him, managing calls, repair work, all of it was...was...no. He just

"Mr. Robinson?"

Matthew met the man's hard brown eyes. "S-sorry," he found himself saying, surprising even himself. "I...needed a moment to process it all." He wasn't sure where the hesitant smile came from, either. "I'll admit, it isn't a light load to ask of one person."

Mr. Yang stared down his nose at the younger man before admitting, "Those roles are only temporary. In due time, I will be seeking a devoted housekeeper and cleaner. However, I do understand that this job can be quite...overwhelming."

That did not help alleviate Matthew's growing concerns. "Understood, sir."

Leaning against the desk, Mr. Yang considered the younger man carefully. "After hearing everything, are you still interested in continuing the interview process, Mr. Robinson?"

Matthew grit his teeth lightly together and considered the question carefully, taking a moment to steady the spinning in his head. Meeting the man's gaze again, he found himself nodding.

He clasped his hands behind his back and asked, "All right. Now, are we ready for the field study assessment?"