Samantha sat in the driveway and nervously checked the address on her phone. The house was typical for Palos Verdes, a rambling expanse of brick clinging to the high, narrow crest of land that overlooked the Pacific, fronted by a wrought iron gate and surrounded by a forest of small trees and blooming plants. Sam smoothed her dark slacks with her hands and composed herself as she got out of the car. This was a job interview after all.
The slim young woman emerged from the car. She wore an emerald silk top that contrasted nicely with her milky, pale skin and brought out the green in her eyes. Her thick, unruly head of red hair was French braided behind her ears to keep it under control, and her steps were confident in sensibly low heels. Sam was aware of her beauty, and was equally aware that it could be both an asset and a liability for a young woman in a business setting, so she dressed to make the most of her appearance, while staying conservative in her choices.
The driveway sloped down to the large iron gate that guarded the last section of drive before the garage. Samantha parked before it and took the short set of stairs she'd been told about that led off the drive to a sidewalk that circled in front of the house. She walked past low, spreading jade plants with delicate white blooms beside gaudy birds of paradise that were ubiquitous around the coast. At the bottom of the stairs, a smaller gate featured a discrete plaque that said "Private Entrance" and another below it that read "Office," with an arrow pointing to the left. As Sam followed the fence to the entrance on the far corner of the property her stomach fluttered. She didn't usually get this nervous at interviews, especially when it was just a part-time secretarial position, but she really wanted this.
The job itself didn't particularly excite her, but part of the salary came in the form of room and board. Samantha had just been accepted to the MBA program at Irvine. Her scholarship covered tuition, but not living expenses, and in Los Angeles that was no small matter. She could live on campus, though even that wasn't cheap; and after four years as an undergrad, she was sick of dorm life. Her other options were a long commute from an undesirable neighborhood, or a really long commute from a slightly less undesirable neighborhood. Palos Verdes was about 40 minutes from Irvine - not exactly around the corner, but better than any of her other options. And this place, she thought as she walked to the Office door, was gorgeous.
When she first saw the ad on Craigslist she was suspicious. It read like the kind of thing her mother warned her about when she moved to California from Texas four years before - some sex maniac luring young women into his home to do god-knows-what to them. She replied anyway, out of curiosity tinged with hope. After initial correspondence, she learned that her potential boss was Angela Meister, a psychologist who saw clients in her home. Her website looked professional, and she was licensed with the state of California. The offer seemed legit. Now, after seeing the house in the gorgeous neighborhood, she wanted the job more than ever.
An "Open" sign showed through the window in the door, so she entered. Inside, she found a small reception area with a couch and a pair of comfortable looking armchairs. Samantha noted several glossy photography books laid out on the coffee table in front of the couch; however, she had no more time to examine the décor because a friendly female voice said, "Hello. You're right on time."
Sam started, for she hadn't seen the woman emerge from an inside door. She recovered quickly, put on her best business-friendly smile, and hurried forward, hand outstretched. The other woman gripped it and shook it firmly. "I'm Dr. Meister, feel free to call me Angela."
"Samantha Braden, my friends call me Sam." As soon as it was out of her mouth she thought she sounded too informal. "Or you can call me Samantha," she added, "Or Sam. Either one." She kicked herself mentally. "Sorry, I'm a little nervous."
"No need to be." Dr. Meister smiled genuinely. Sam was immediately struck by her beauty. She was probably near forty, but her skin had obviously been well protected from the California sun and was nearly unlined. Her hair was straight and dark, hanging down her back in a thick ponytail. She was shorter than Samantha, with a trim, athletic figure evident even in her blouse and slacks. She looked up at Sam with deep brown eyes that were alert and engaging. "Come, let's have a seat and get started."
The office matched the reception area - comfortable, tasteful and expensive-looking. Samantha sat on a small sofa while the doctor sat in a chair opposite. There was a desk with an office chair, and various degrees and licenses hanging in frames over it, but the office was otherwise decorated like an upscale living room, with several stunning landscape prints on the walls.
"So, you're starting business school at Irvine this fall?"
Samantha focused her attention on Dr. Meister and nodded, than added, "Yes, ma'am," a hint of her Texas upbringing peeking out.
Dr. Meister smiled again, "Congratulations. And, as I said, please call me Angela, no 'ma'ams'; you'll make me feel like an old lady."
Samantha blushed but nodded, deciding that if she was quiet she was less likely to say something stupid.
Dr. Meister - Angela - continued. "Your resume looks good. In fact, a B.S. in business from UCLA makes you a bit overqualified. On the other hand, you don't seem to have any actual secretarial experience."
Samantha's heart sank, but before she could explain how her course schedule left little time for a job, Angela continued.
"Don't worry, the job isn't difficult and someone with your academic record should be able to learn what's needed without any problem. Really, the main issue is one of personal compatibility. You won't just be working for me, you'll be joining the household."
Samantha nodded her understanding, although inside she was a bit thrown by the remark. It seemed like an odd way to describe the arrangement.
"Tell me about yourself," Angela prompted.
"Well I'm from Hickory Creek, TX. That's a suburb of Dallas. I received an academic scholarship to UCLA, and I graduated in May."
"Yes, I saw that on your résumé."
Sam watched the woman's expression shift slightly. Had she given the wrong answer?
