Two weeks after the auditions
Shonee’s POV
“Tadaa!” Mirasol happily presented her first-ever self-made Greek salad.
“Mmm, looks so good.” I picked up a fork, ready to take a bite until she swatted my hand away. “Hey!”
“You can’t eat it until it’s on the dinner table.” Mirasol grabbed the bowl.
“Looks like someone’s hungry,” Gerta laughed, “Come on, let’s set the table.”
For dinner tonight, we were having grilled lemon chicken and rice with Greek salad. The heavenly smell of the chicken had my stomach growling ever since Gerta pulled it out oven.
Grabbing the dished-out rice, I followed Gerta and Mirasol into the dining room, setting the meal on the table. They had already started laying out the plates, and I was just about to help them when I caught sight of two staff members lugging some suitcases into the living room.
I immediately abandoned plates and headed over, wondering if Avril had returned from her Paris Fashion Week trip.
But to my utmost surprise, she wasn’t the one who walked past the front doors.
Vincent strutted in, dressed in his regular suit, and holding his phone to his ear. When his dark pupils landed on me, his movement suddenly came to a halt. “Yeah, Michael? Lemme call you back.”
He brought the phone down, eyebrows pulling into a curious frown. “You’re still here?” He quizzed, bringing up the memory of our last altercation before he took off like the wind.
“Welcome back, boss,” I remarked, though a hint of sarcasm found its way into my tone.
“Daddy!” Mirasol came barreling towards her dad, who in turn, did not hesitate to pick her up and gave her a twirl. Gerta appeared at my side.
“Hey, pumpkin!” Vincent kissed her cheek before setting her down.
Frankly, it was my first time seeing him be affectionate with his daughter and it sort of pulled at my heartstrings.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy before. What’s the occasion?”
“I missed you,” Mirasol pouted. “You left without saying goodbye.”
“I know sweetheart, Daddy had to leave in a hurry. But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” He ruffled her hair, then as if realizing something, dropped his hand. “You have purple hair?”
“Yeah!” Mirasol responded, oblivious to her dad’s sudden serious demeanour. “Shonee did it for me! We had a big reveal and everything, it was awesome!”
As expected, Vincent’s dark eyes flickered over to me and though part of me wanted to buckle under their intensity, I crossed my hands against my body, holding my posture. I was not about to let him intimidate me.
“I don’t suppose Avril told you about my rule against hair dyeing?” He straightened his jacket and held my gaze, awaiting an answer.
“She didn’t, but Mirasol mentioned it,” I voiced out.
His eyebrows furrowed. “And you still went along with it?”
I shrugged. “She’s a kid. I let her have some fun.”
I swear that despite his calm composure, I saw his left eye twitch. I knew my answer triggered the anger dwelling inside him, but I didn’t care. As Mirasol’s nanny, I did what I could to make her have a normal childhood.
Sensing the tension in the air, Gerta quickly jumped in. “Uhh…you’re right on time, sir. Dinner is ready. We have everything set up in the dining room.”
In the next few minutes, we were seated at the table: Vincent at the head and Mirasol and I occupying the seats on his right.
“Try the salad.” The little girl recommended it to her dad. “I made it myself.”
“You can cook?” Vincent quirked up an inquisitive eyebrow.
“Yeah!” Again, oblivious Mirasol nodded in excitement. “I have cooking classes with Shonee and Gerta every Tuesday and Thursday.”
I quietly nibbled on a piece of chicken.
“Really? I don’t remember cooking classes being on your schedule.”
“It wasn’t until Shonee added it.”
Vincent’s cutlery clunk hard against his plate and I could feel his eyes boring deep holes into my skull. “You altered Mirasol’s schedule? Without my permission?”
“Yeah,” I replied, slipping a piece of chicken into my mouth. “Avril gave me her permission, so…” My shoulders shrugged. “I didn’t see the need to ask you. Plus, you weren’t even around.”
“That schedule,” Vincent began in a tone clipped in brewing vexation, “…was created by some of the best professional preschool teachers in New York, and you altered it?”
“Daddy?” Tears welled up in Mirasol’s eyes and even I began to feel guilty. “P-please don’t be angry.”
Vincent took a deep breath, trying his best to wash the anger away. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just… Daddy is having a hard time adjusting to things around here.” He shot me one more look, telepathically informing me that he wasn’t done with the schedule issue. “C’mon, let’s go set up your favourite bubble bath.”
Plucking the dinner napkin from his lap, Vincent got up from his seat, ready to take Mirasol to her bathroom. But the moment he drew close to her, the little girl shook her head.
“No.” The earlier tremble was no longer visible in her voice. “I want Shonee to do it.”
The room obviously fell quiet for a split second, until I pushed out of my chair and helped Mirasol out of hers. Taking her hand, we walked out of the dining room, feeling Vincent’s eyes on our retreating forms.
*****
“Ok.” I settled on the side of Mirasol’s bed, tucking her in. “We’ve bathed, and brushed our teeth, what do you think about a bedtime story?”
Mirasol shook her head, toying with the frills on the hems of her duvet. “No, it’s fine.”
I gave her tummy a soft pat. “Look Mira, I know your dad scared you tonight, but you should know that he means no harm. Your dad has just got a lot of grown-up issues on his mind.”
“I know,” she mumbled before adding, “Do you think he’ll come see me play at the event on Saturday?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world, and neither should he. If he tries to miss it, I’ll go right over to his workplace, hurl him to the ground and tickle him like this until he comes with me.” My hands roamed Mirasol’s frame, tickling some laughs out of her.
“I don’t think daddy will like that,” she finally managed to say past the chuckles.
“You leave that to me, Mira.” With that, I laid a soft kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight.”
Mirasol smiled sweetly. “Goodnight Shonee. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Turning off the light, I carefully walked out of her room, making sure to keep the noise down as I shut the door.
“You turned my own daughter against me?”
Sighing, I let go of the door handle. “No, Vincent. I did not turn your daughter against you, you did that yourself.” I pivoted on my heel, just in time to see his eyes narrow down to slits.
“Excuse me?”
“Always on the move for work, leaving her behind with that stupid homeschool schedule. It’s almost as if you don’t care about her.”
The moment I walked past him; Vincent rudely grabbed my arm. “You think I’m doing all this because I want to?”
“It sure looks like it.” I yanked myself out of his hold. “You ran off after that argument with Avril and you didn’t even bother calling to check up on your daughter. Face it, Vincent. You’re a terrible parent and you’re just lucky Avril hired me to take care of Mirasol.”
Vincent's jaw clenched, his eyes flaring with a mix of anger and frustration. “You don’t know the first thing about my life or the sacrifices I make for my family.”
“Maybe not,” I retorted, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But I do know Mirasol deserves more than being an afterthought in her own father's life.”
We stood in silence for a moment, the tension between us palpable. Finally, I spoke with conviction, “You can be a better father, Vincent. It's not too late to change.”
He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “You're just her nanny. What do you know about parenting?”
“I know enough to see that a child needs more than material things,” I replied firmly. “They need time, attention, and love. And right now, Mirasol needs her father.”
Vincent's gaze wavered, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But just as quickly, he regained his composure.
“I appreciate your concern, but I don't need parenting advice from the help,” he sneered.
“Fine,” I said, putting my hands up in surrender, though part of me wanted to punch him for calling me the help. “But remember this, Vincent: your daughter is growing up, and she won’t wait forever for you to figure it out.”
With that, I turned away, leaving him standing in the hallway.