Page 1 of The Dragon’s Accidental Manny

ONE

CAM

The logo hadn't been the problem. It was excellent, and that was the problem.

I sat in the reception area of the Feeney Au Pair Agency and thought about how I got here. Not arrived at the office ‘cause I’d driven my car, the same one that had very little gas in the tank.

Nope. How did I arrive at needing a job where I didn’t pay rent and received a salary to look after someone else’s children? Because the area where I lived was so expensive and even a shared apartment took up most of my paycheck and required a large deposit up front.

I pictured the agency online form I’d completed.

Age: 31

Occupation: Graphic designer. Or I was until I’d been unfairly dismissed.

Address: I’d used a friend’s for the month I’d been sleeping in my car.

And now I was sitting in a plush waiting room about to interview for a manny position.

I tugged at my collar and glanced down at the creases in my shirt. I’d ironed it on the back seat of my current home, i.e. in the car, with a travel steamer I’d purchased at a gas station.

Trying to smooth out the creases didn’t work, so I distracted myself by glancing around the reception area. It had a high ceiling which made it feel more spacious than it was and the fresh flowers, rather than artificial, were a nice touch. The message it sent was discreet and high-quality.

But the logo? Oh no, that was where they’d let themselves down. It was an uninspiring serif. Instead of making a statement, it was a yawn. I told myself to leave it alone, as I’d been fired for doing that exact thing.

But that lasted sixty seconds, and grabbing my phone and laptop, I went outside and sat on the steps. Within a few minutes, I’d redesigned the au pair agency’s logo. It was cleaner, bolder, and more distinctive without being flashy.

I stood up and held up my laptop beside the logo on the wall, comparing my new one with the current version. “Much better.”

“Really?”

Damn. It was deja vu, and I cringed, expecting a tongue lashing. This time I’d designed my way out of a prospective position.

“Cam, I assume.”

I didn’t want to look because Meara Feeney had a reputation of being fierce. Scrunching my eyes closed, I counted to five and glanced up. Hmmm, her gaze wasn’t intense so much as… amused? I had to be wrong, though.

She looked me up and down, and I hoped she couldn’t smell motor oil on me because the scent had seeped into my car’s upholstery.

Meara motioned for me to sit on the top step and she did the same. It was a refreshingly different way of conducting an interview, but it was easier to tell me never to darken her door again when I was outside said door. She was one smart woman.

“Your portfolio is impressive.” She rattled off the details of my eight years working in an advertising agency as a graphic designer. “Why are you here, Cam?”

This had to be a trap, but it was too late to pretend she’d won a new logo design in a competition. I’d rehearsed three different answers to this question as I sat in my traveling home in the parking lot, but her piercing gaze changed my mind and I gave her the truth.

“I was let go.” I tried to keep the regret and disappointment out of my voice. “Which was an unfair dismissal.” This was harder than I imagined. “So I need income and somewhere to live, and I’ve worked with children, so a live-in manny position seems ideal.”

Meara didn’t react but asked what happened.

This was where it got weird, and I gripped my laptop hard, wishing it would magic me away somewhere. But the only way forward was to look directly at Meara and not cower because I wasn’t ashamed of my work.

“It was to do with the company logo.”

Meara eyed her own logo on the wall, but I powered on.

“The company’s one was so outdated and had the wrong weight and kerning. The color pallet hadn’t been updated since 2003. 2003!”

I took a breath. Maybe that repetition was a little too much because my voice had risen a couple of decibels. Meara had to be in her forties, so she might not be impressed with me pointing out how long ago that was.