My shoulders were even tighter with stress when I left the second agency than when I had arrived in the city that morning. Both agencies had seemed professional enough, with great qualifications, but they had no one on their books currently looking or willing to take on a live-in position. They said they would keep the listing open on their internal job boards, but they had no idea of knowing when they might find someone interested.

I turned my phone off airplane mode and notifications started pinging. I scanned through them, dismissing the irrelevant ones, and stopped on a text from Abrar. My hopes lifted. Maybe he'd had better luck than I had?

May have some options. Naheed says stop by Omega House before you leave town.

My breath whooshed out of me in a sigh of relief. Granted, there was no certainty that Naheed would have someone who would work out, but just having another possibility helped ease my mind. I sent Abrar a quick thanks before I reached my car, then placed a quick call to Helen to make sure she'd be okay with Chloe if I came back a little later than I expected.

Omega House was a lot bigger than I remembered, though much of it was hidden behind the rain. I tried to think of when I had last visited... More than three years ago, because the last time I remembered coming here, Jen was with me. I felt the familiar pang that popped up when I did something without Jen for the first time. It happened much less often now, and the pain was no longer crippling. I missed her. I would never stop missing her. But I knew she would have some choice words to say if I allowed my grief to paralyze me. 

The front door was easy to find, but once inside, I was lost. There was a receptionist and behind her, a beefy looking security guard. He analyzed me as I approached. I must not have set off any of his internal alarms, because he continued to watch me with continued neutral alertness. 

"I'm here about a job..."

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked.

"Uh, I don't know. Abrar Patel sent me. His brother-in-law Naheed said to stop by."

"What's your name, hon?"

"Wyatt Stanley."

She flipped through a couple sheets of paper. "Yep, you're on the list. Just go through these doors, take the second left, go through the cafeteria to the exit on the right, and a right out of there."

"Thanks." 

I was taking the second left when I realized I didn't know who exactly I was looking for. Was I looking for Naheed? I guessed it would be obvious once I got there. Wherever there was.

The place had definitely changed since I was last here. The walls were covered in murals and I stopped to read several of the plaques describing them. I was surprised to learn that every mural was created by a resident. I had assumed from their complexity and intensity that a local painter had donated their time. After reading several all the way through, I realized I needed to get my feet moving or I'd be even later than I had promised Helen.

I passed through the cafeteria, which was nearly empty, but I did draw a few curious eyes. I could hear the voices, bangs, and swishes of a busy kitchen. They must’ve been preparing for dinner.

Then I was through the exit to the right and...damn it. Was I supposed to go left or right? Damn it. You'd think I'd have been able to keep the directions straight. It wasn't like they'd been particularly complicated. If I'd come straight here instead of dawdling over the murals, maybe I wouldn't have forgotten. 

I went left. 

I seemed to be in an administration wing, so I was probably in the right area. If I just knew what I was looking for. I checked my watch. It was quarter after four. I'd known when I'd headed this way that there was no chance I would miss rush hour, which had added weight to an already stressful day, and my current confusion didn't help at all. I wandered slowly, checking all of the office labels. Medical personnel only. Overflow linen closet. Assistant financial director. That one seemed promising. Whoever that was, they had to work with Naheed. I knocked on the door, and when I received no answer, I tried the handle. Locked. Well, it had been worth a shot.

I kept walking until I heard voices. Finally, someone who could help me. They came from behind a door labeled The Birch Room. I knocked tentatively and then poked my head in. Seven people sat around a conference table, and they all turned to look at me. 

"Can I help you?" an older woman asked. She had a no-nonsense air about her, from the timbre of her voice to the tilt of her head. 

"Ah, yes. I'm looking for Naheed Shah. Or well, I think I am. His brother-in-law Abrar sent me. I mentioned I'm looking to hire a nanny and they said to stop by. Oh, my name is Wyatt Stanley."

The woman's eyes sparked and she stood. "If you'll excuse me for just a few minutes, everyone. Feel free to continue, I'll catch back up."

I stepped back and she closed the door behind her. 

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything important..." I said. 

She waved my concern away. "Our weekly department meeting. Trish can handle it until I get back. Wyatt, you said your name was? I'm Marge." She stuck her hand out and I shook it. "Do you mind waiting for a few minutes? I'm not the person you need to talk to, but I can get them shortly."

"That's absolutely fine."

She took me down another hall and opened an office door. I didn't get a chance to see its label before she ushered me in to sit. The room was fairly bland, with a couple of bookshelves, small filing cabinets, a desk and two chairs against the door with the wall. "It won't be but just a moment," she assured me.

"Thank you."

She closed the door behind me. My knees bounced while I waited, a nervous habit of mine. If I could get this nanny situation settled before I went home tonight, it would solve a lot of my stress. I forced myself to take a couple deep breaths and took a seat against the wall.