Does it ever get easier to live like this? [Valya]

Businessman seeks personal assistant skilled in organization, good with kids.

Whittier fit that description, right? She was certainly organized, but how about the part about kids. Sticky, icky, smelly kids? How did Whittier get on with kids? Would she have the patience, the skill, that spark that a nanny needed in order to keep youngsters in line? She had no idea! She was not yet blessed with any nieces or nephews, and didn't even have any younger cousins. The youngest of four, she was raised with three rambunctious older brothers whom she would certainly not like to babysit. Alas, she was desperate to leave Sirens behind her, and perhaps this was just the opportunity that she needed to get her back on her feet.

After exchanging a few formal messages with said "businessman", he'd offered her the opportunity to meet and have an interview-type talk about what her skills were, and to see if she would be the right fit for the position. Her bland outfit, one she wore to her job at the ministry many days a week, was fitted with what she thought was a positively charming fake smile. She had even started to believe it.

Deep down, she really was excited for the opportunity, and she was trying her best to remain positive and open minded about the whole scheme of things in her life currently. She was alive after all, and fed, and slightly content. A new job was just what she needed to bring a bit of light back into her life. She could walk away from Red and never look back on her, and the other girls at Sirens would be left in her dust. With the right job, she could move out of her shitty flat and maybe into one more respectable. If this businessman was generous, things would look up from here, and maybe she wouldn't have to frown so much.

Making her way calmy to the address listed in the last of "V"'s letters, she surveyed the area around her. Regent's park was a fairly nice part of London, and though most could not afford one of the townhouses on this stretch of road, Whittier wasn't too nervous at all. If she screwed up majorly, she'd never have to see the gentleman again. He came from an entirely different walk of life, and unless his file came into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, they would certainly never cross paths again.

Making her way up the steps, she smoothed out the dress she had worn, checked her cardigan for loose fuzz from the ridiculous fur ensemble she sometimes wore to work at her night job, which it had been conveniently hung next to in her tiny closet. She took one last deep breath and rang the bell, waiting patiently for someone to greet her from the other side of the threshold.

Interview number 12 to replace assistant number 20. Over the past few years, the string of incompetence had made Valentin a bit bitter about this whole situation. He'd interview them, they'd throw him a set of pretty lies, and then a few weeks later something would go wrong. Scheduling, watching Serafima...If there was one thing he hated, it was useless people. He didn't mind if someone was trying, but most people assumed because he was laid back that things could just slip past him and he wouldn't react.

After the horrible job his manager had done, advertising him as the employer, Valya put his own ad in the paper. It wasn't much, but it would regain his anonymity. He was a businessman...well, sort of. He was in the business of making music, and that had business in it, so it was the same thing. At least this was the only interview he'd have today. Sima was dancing around the house, wearing a hat with bunny ears a top of it. Today was petting zoo day, then Valya would be spending the latter half of the day talking to the band about the new album that they were trying to release by December.

"Sima. Come here and let me fix your dress." He boomed in Russian, flopping down on his leather couch in the living room waiting for the eager little girl to stand infront of him. As he fixed her dress, he looked at her seriously. "Now, Serafima...I know you're tired of meeting these new people. I am too. We're going to talk to her and see if she can help daddy with work, and take care of you sometimes. If you don't like her, let me know and we don't have to see her again." He cupped her face as she nodded and kissed her nose. "Now sit down and we'll wait."

His eyes flicked towards his watch and it was almost as if as soon as the hand touched the hour, the bell rang. Nodding to himself as he stretched and rose from the couch, he walked over to the door, his bare feet padding against the wood floor. He was impressed. Punctuality was extremely important to him, and this was already looking good. He looked through the peephole and caught a flash of red before he opened the door. Smiling softly, he did one quick sweep over the professionally dressed woman and for some reason he could see her dancing scantily clad infront of him.

Valya waved her in the house and waited until she walked in, closing the door and held his hand out to her. "My name is Valentin Kolesnikov. You are Whittier de Burgh? Welcome to my home..." Her face was bothering him. Not as if she was repulsive, because that wasn't the case. She was quite beautiful. Her hair was distinctive. He surveyed her one more time, still trying to puzzle it out. "Have we met before? You look familiar." He said softly before a small weight impacted his legs. Turning back, he looked at the blonde tot peering around his legs. "Sima, I said wait on the couch." He chided.

Trying to convince herself that she was less nervous than she really was was turning out to be harder than it looked. She wiped her sweaty palms on the sides of her skirt, and shook her hands out, splaying her fingers as if the use of energy would make her heart pound just a hair less. She had to be worried, or else this wouldn't have mattered much at all, would it? If she wasn't careful than she wouldn't choose her words wisely, she wouldn't sound articulate, and she would, therefore, seem idiotic. She really did want a new job, even if this child turned out to be a demonic little tyrant. There was the chance that all she'd have to do would be to feed and keep the kid busy, and that would be easy enough. She could do that. She could keep an eye on a kid.

When the door finally opened, Whittier smiled, but her heart went in the opposite direction of the corners of her mouth. Valentin Kolesnikov. Crap, crap, crap. She was surely screwed.

Not only was Valentin extremely famous, a popular rockstar throughout the whole wizarding world, but she'd also seen him once or twice at Sirens, and there was now a very good chance that her cover was blown. Who would want a part time stripper watching their child full time? Whittier wouldn't. Imagine Julia watching a child. She would probably sell it.

"Hello," She said cheerily, stepping through the threshold, sweating profusely from nerves. She turned slowly to let him introduce himself, and holding herself as upright has humanly possible, she shook his hand firmly. "Yes." She said, knowing he knew her name already. Her brain was screaming that he'd probably better know her as Red, but she urged her sub-conscious to stuff it.

She glanced up at him in time to see him studying her face, and knew instantly that the gig was up. He had caught her. When the words left his lips, she knew instantly that he knew who she was. Of course he did. He was an intelligent man, she thought, and it would surely be her luck that this man, who saw millions of people yearly, would remember her face, the face of a dancer who'd never even danced for him. She would have to spill the beans. She couldn't live a lie.

"I don't know," She said, trying to remain as ambiguous as possible. Though she considered omissions a lie in themselves, if she at least seemed like she wasn't sure where he'd seen her, they could get through this. Breathing a laugh, she pointed to her head. "It might be the hair. Most can't miss it." Shrugging, she looked around the house. Nice.

She looked down when Valentin began speaking to an imaginary person, and when she noticed the pretty little thing sitting there, she grinned. Clasping her hands in front of herself, she waited to be introduced before speaking to the child in case she was shy. Instead, she smiled at the girl cheerily, thinking she was the cutest little thing in the world and hoping she was equally as charming on the inside. Her friendliness, which was shy itself, got the best of her, and she spoke softly. "Hello! I'm Whittier!" She held her hand out to the girl, hoping she would shake it.