“So you’ll really be taking me to school tomorrow, Isa?” Anna asks as she pulls my hand and leads me to the kitchen island, where her grandmother still sits.
“Yes, kiddo. Hank and I will be ready to celebrate your first day with you tomorrow morning. Any requests for breakfast?” I ask as I twirl the end of her ponytail.
Mateo interrupts us. “Actually, I’ll be coming along as well tomorrow, since it’s Anna’s first day. I also need to register you with campus security so you can do pickups without me.”
I nod, keeping my face blank of emotion, hoping that’s what a professional nanny face is supposed to look like.
“And as for breakfast, when I don’t have morning practice or an away game, it’s kind of our thing to make breakfast together. Anna and me.”
Well, then. Point taken.
“Sounds good. Can you tell me where her uniform is so I can—”
“A week’s worth of uniforms are dry cleaned and hanging in her closet, and her after-school activity gear has been sorted by day and is stored in the laundry room closet.”
Shit. He’s basically done everything I was planning to do to keep myself busy tonight and prepare for her first day. Now it feels like I’m lingering in his home, with no actual nanny duties to complete.
As if sensing my looming panic, he decides to throw me a bone. “Listen, Isabella. Your first day officially starts tomorrow. Why don’t you get settled in for the night, and tomorrow, I can have my assistant email you any things that need attention for the week?”
“But it’s only six o’clock,” his mother complains as he subtly shakes his head and makes his way back to the refrigerator. “It’s dinnertime, and I spent all morning cooking a feast. Mateo is going to heat it up for us. There is more than enough for everyone.” She smiles salaciously. “Besides, you can’t go off to bed without eating some good Puerto Rican food. We’ve got to feed those beautiful new curves of yours. Right, Mateo?”
His knuckles look white from where one hand grips the refrigerator door as he releases a deep groan near the gallon of milk.
I’m used to my mom and Bethzaida poking innocent fun at my delayed body development. Because truly, who grows tits and ass after they turn twenty-three? Now at twenty-five, I feel more confident in my curves, and I’m owning them.
Luckily, I grew up in a home where every bite of food was meant to be enjoyed and bodies were meant to be appreciated for all that they do for us. And I guess it’s also been par for the course to have family friends ask which devil I made a deal with in order to get a free ass in this economy, since I used to be flat as a pancake.
But while I’m used to these comments, constantly being around hilarious Latinas, I know it must be making Mateo uncomfortable, which was the number one thing I was trying to avoid during this trial period.
So I lean in and give Bethzaida another kiss and take a large step back.
“Actually, I think I’m going to settle in for the night. Get my things organized and ready for the big day.”
Mateo turns, his expression stoic.
“Nonsense, you can’t skip dinner—” Bethzaida starts.
“I already ate,” I interrupt. “A really big early dinner at my mami’s house. You know, as a sendoff and whatnot. So I’m truly very stuffed.” I pat my empty stomach twice to really seal the deal.
“I’ll show you to your room,” Mateo says as he starts leading the way past me. Seems like I made the right call, since he covered an impressive distance in such a short amount of time.
“Buenas noches,” I call over my shoulder. “See you in the morning, kiddo!”
“Buenas noches,” they both respond, Anna carefully blowing on a hot piece of plátano maduro. My stomach almost weeps.
I turn back around and stop abruptly. Mateo is standing by an open door, which I assume belongs to me for now, with his arms crossed, studying me.
I keep a smile on my face as I walk past him and into the room. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Like the living room, an entire wall is a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks Central Park. The rest of the room is decorated in soft tones, meant to complement the city skyline. Plush carpets, an ivory desk on the wall to my right with a table lamp adding a gentle glow to the sunset displayed behind the massive king-size bed.
“Wow.”
Mateo clears his throat to get my attention but doesn’t enter the room. “The door on the left is your ensuite bathroom. I went ahead and got a few things for you.”
I fully turn to look at him. His hands now rest in the back pockets of his jeans. “You got me stuff? You didn’t need to do that.”
He waves it off. “I don’t have many guests, except my mother, but she has her own unofficial guest room upstairs next to Anna’s room, and it’s fully stocked with her things. Just wanted to make sure you had what you needed to settle in for the night. It’s probably all the wrong stuff, so you can probably—”
“I’m sure it’s perfect. Thank you.” I bite my lip, and his eyes immediately track the movement.
