Shonee’s POV
It was dark, but I could still sense movement and the sound of approaching footsteps.
Mirasol giggled beside me.
“Sshh! You don’t want to ruin this, do you?” I whispered and she whispered back an apology.
Voices echoed out, one I immediately recognized as Vincent’s. The other I wasn’t familiar with.
When Mirasol alerted me that they were close, I gave Gerta the signal with a simple whistle.
“We obviously have to handle those meetings tomorrow before-”
“SURPRISE!”
The lights came on, along with the confetti canons, filling the room with a loud pop and shiny, colourful papers.
Standing in the middle of the living room, Vincent appeared stunned. “Wha-”
“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Mirasol ran to him and wrapped her tiny frame around his legs.
“Oh, thank you, sweetheart.” Vincent picked her up and laid a dainty kiss on her cheek.
Then for the first time since yesterday’s…incident, Vincent’s eyes fell on me, locking on my face. “Shonee.”
“Vincent.” I put my hands behind me, watching him with the same intensity.
There was a moment of awkward silence until the gentleman behind him said, “Oh shoot! Because of the accreditation meeting, I totally forgot today was your birthday. I would have taken you out for drinks or something.”
Vincent tore his eyes away and let out a soft chuckle, “Naah, it’s not a big deal, Michael. I also forgot today was my birthday, but it seems my little princess remembered.”
“Yeah,” Mirasol beamed in his arms. “Gerta got you a cake and Shonee and I made a special dinner for you.”
“Really?” Once again, his eyes flickered over to me, and I found myself wondering what the heck was going on in that perceptive mind of his.
“Ah, you must be Shonee, the famous nanny.” Vincent’s friend approached me and extended a hand. “Michael Percy, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise.” I shook his outstretched hand, but he surprised me by lifting my hand and bringing it to his lips.
The contact was soft and harmless, yet it unnerved me. Probably because Vincent stood at the side, glaring at us like an intimidating lion.
I quickly pulled my hand out of his hold. “Soo…you work for Vincent?”
‘Yeah, I’ve been his personal assistant for a year and a half now,” Michael replied with a charming smile. “Honestly, he can’t survive without me.”
“Really?” Both Michael and I laughed, and I hoped it would reduce the subtle tension in the air as Vincent's gaze remained fixed on us.
“Uhh… dinner is all set and ready,” Gerta announced. “And there’s enough to go around, so Mr. Percy, you’re welcome to join us.”
“Oh, I’d love to. But only if the birthday boy agrees. I came here to work after all.”
Everybody’s attention shifted to Vincent, awaiting his answer.
"Why not?” He smiled, though I could tell that it was forced. “It's my birthday, and work can wait. Join us, Michael."
“Thank you, boss” He grinned while giving him a mock salute.
“Great. The dining room is right this way, please.” Gerta led the way and Michael followed. I could still feel Vincent’s gaze on me as I tailed the duo into the dining room.
We gathered around the table, the atmosphere shifting from surprise to warmth as laughter and chatter filled the room.
Vincent sat at the head, still wearing a slightly daunting expression from earlier, while Mirasol sat proudly beside him. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t seem perturbed by his boss’ unlively demeanour. Throughout dinner, he engaged in animated conversations with me, Gerta, and Mirasol, effortlessly blending into the group.
“Mmm, these fries are so tasty,” Micheal complimented. “Great job, Mirasol.”
“Thank you,” She smiled brightly. “Shonee helped too.”
“Ah, I didn’t really do much,” I shrugged. “My job was basically to run interferences while she finished up. She was pretty easy to work with.”
“Wow, Vincent.” Michael turned to him. “It seems like you’ve got a professional cook on your hands. You must be proud.”
“I am, actually. Very proud.” Vincent’s eyes found mine again and this time, I was the first to turn away.
Honestly, I didn’t understand the fervent stares. After yesterday’s kiss, Vincent made it super clear that nothing could happen between us. So why the heck was he acting as if Michael’s interest in me was ticking him off?
Wait… the cogs in my head began to turn… could he actually be jealous?
I glanced over at Micheal. He wasn’t bad-looking at all. His mass of wavy brown locks had been put together in a stylish masculine hairdo. He had thick eyebrows, wide eyes, a small nose, and slender lips with a simple moustache on the top.
I put a fist under my chin. To tell you the truth, I wouldn’t mind dating him if he expressed an interest. At least it would take my mind off you-know-who.
Michael continued to finish his fries. “I can frankly, without a hint of doubt, say that this is one of the best birthday dinners I’ve ever had. Last year, I attended my cousin’s birthday in Russia. Though she’s never cooked in her life, for some reason, she insisted on making a big pot of thick goulash to celebrate.”
“Oh goulash,” Gerta sounded intrigued. “How was it?”
“Honestly, it tasted like prison food,” Michael responded, and we all burst into a hearty laugh. “But we all managed to scarf it down our throat cuz we didn’t want to upset the birthday girl.”
“Your story reminds me of when my first daughter was turning sixteen and she decided to make lasagna for the whole family,” Gerta narrated. “That girl nearly burnt the entire house down.”
We all laughed.
“What about you, Shonee?” Michael quizzed.
“Hmm?”
“What’s the craziest birthday dinner you’ve ever had?”
“Uhh…” My fingers rapped against the table; my mind lost in thought. “The closest thing I have had to a crazy birthday dinner was about three years ago, during my first year of college. I was so stressed out over my mid-sems that I even forgot it was my birthday until my friends dragged me over to a make-your-own pizza party down by a lake.” I smiled fondly at the memory. “The crust and everything had already been made, all we had to do was pick our toppings and put them on the pizza.”
“Wow, I can’t imagine what you guys put on it,” Michael chuckled.
“I know right? We went full bonkers, putting everything ranging from beer, siracha, cookies, milk, vodka…”
“Vodka?” Gerta lifted a surprised eyebrow.
“I won’t mince words, Gerta. It was beyond disgusting,” I chortled, and everyone laughed along. “But we still ate it anyway, and we had a good time. We danced, had fun, and then we went skinny dipping.”
“Skinny dipping?” A strange fire blossomed in Vincent’s eyes, and it sent a wave of heat up my cheeks.
“Uhh…” I cleared my throat. “Let’s just say I was borderline drunk and not in the best frame of mind.”
“Huh.” He simply nodded, and it sort of made me regret mentioning the skinny-dipping part. Now he probably thinks his daughter’s nanny is brash and likes to live on the wild side. I took a sip of my champagne to help quell the embarrassment lurking inside me.
“I wish I was there,” Michael remarked, and my head snapped in his direction.
The table automatically fell silent, all eyes on Michael.
He must’ve sensed the discomfort because he quickly backtracked. “I meant the party. I wish I was at the party, not the skinny dipping part,” He let out a nervous chuckle. “C’mon, that would be so inappropriate.”
“Yeah,” Gera joined in with an anxious laugh and I had to fake one too.
Vincent, on the other hand, didn’t. His jaw had stiffened, and he looked like he was minutes away from blowing a gasket. My eyes zoomed in on his right hand on the table; he kept on coiling and uncoiling them, like he wanted to punch someone, but hadn’t decided yet.
It was obvious who he wanted to punch because his eyes remained fixed on Michael, and it got me wondering—why the heck was Vincent acting this way?
“Everybody is talking about skinny dipping,” Mirasol whined. “What is this skinny dipping?”
A sense of alarm wafted into my system. “Uuhh… Gerta! Don’t you think it’s time for the cake?”
“Yes!” Gerta, quickly catching on, got up from her chair. “Let me go get the cake.”
“Yay, cake!” The little girl cheered, completely forgetting her earlier question and I heaved out a sigh of relief.