Realizing that I had stopped, my feet hurriedly carried me further into the mansion.

Aurora laughed behind me then reappeared in my vision as she led me over to a room right of the entrance.

It was the living area.

The room was just as big as the other places that I've seen in the home. Aurora grabbed a pillow, and plopped down in the exact position from where she took the soft object from.

She motioned for me to sit with a head nod, so I sat a pillow away from her; we were close enough to hear each other's voices.

Once we were situated she immediately got to the point.

"I have a few things to do today at the office. You seem good with kids, so I'm trusting you to care for my daughter rightfully. She isn't allergic to anything, but can get an upset stomach from too much peanut butter, no sweets after seven, she needs to be in bed by nine-thirty, and. . . that's pretty much it. The rest is common sense. Is everything that I said clear?" she finished off with a head tilt.

I nodded.

She put on a million dollar smile, "Excellent."

"Is your mamma a good baker?" Ariella carried a puzzled look while asking the question.

I grinned at the mention of my mother.

"Actually, she is. She owns a bakery back in my hometown. You'd love it. The bright colors and aroma of freshly baked sweets is to die for." I daydreamed about my mother's business with such admiration.

The bakery was a business that she began just two years before I moved from Michigan. I would help around when times were the busiest that being on some weekdays and every holiday. The bakery was a place where my mom and I bonded over one of our favorite hobbies; baking.

She squealed happily and bounced in the chair she was sat in, "You've got to take me!"

I laughed, "Of course. I'd—"

The alarm for the cookies rang loudly through the open kitchen, putting the six year old and I's conversation on hold.

Ariella's big, brown orbs lit up as bright as day, "They're done!"

She hopped off of the chair that was only a few feet high from the ground before dashing over to the oven.

I smiled at how happy she seemed while following behind her. When I reached the blazing hot oven I gently pushed the kid away to avoid her being burned.

I grabbed a mitten and pulled open the door to the appliance, coming in immediate contact with the smell and sight of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

Ariella had a taste for them and it wasn't seven as of yet, so I willingly made her a batch of the sweets.

I carefully placed the pan on top of the stove to cool before turning towards the fridge and opening it.
Ariella came up and squeezed in between the little space that there was from me to the fridge door, grabbing a carton of milk.

I watched as she once again squeezed her way between the fridge and I and grabbed a stool from the pantry. Once the carton of milk was sat atop the counter and the six year old was standing on the stool with a cheerful grin I giggled.

God, isn't she the cutest?

I answered my own question in my head before grabbing two glasses and a plate. I sat the cookies which were now cool on the plate then sat it beside the milk that Ariella had gotten along with the two glasses.

"You can handle this right?" I questioned her as I held up one of the slim glasses.

She nodded while concentrating on pouring milk into one of the cups. I smiled at the way her small tongue stuck out of her mouth in concentration. Her eyes were also slightly closed.

I'd never seen anyone as determined to pour a glass of milk than Ariella Romane.

I pulled out my phone and took the moment to take a picture of her.

"And . . . done!" she sat the carton down after filling the other glass halfway full.

"You sure did pour something." I cringed at the mess she made, but nonetheless praised her with a high-five.

After fully tucking the six year old into her princess themed sheets and blanket I silently crept downstairs.

I was being careful not to make a noise when someone spoke up causing me to yelp and tightly grip the stair railing — saving myself from the fall I was about to take.

"Why does it look like you're trying to steal something?"

I looked up — my eyes immediately falling on Aurora. Her keys were in her hand and her hair was now up in a ponytail rather than in an all down hairstyle. In the hand opposite of where the keys were was her coat.

I then realized that the recent question had been directed towards me, "Oh, I just put Ariella to bed, and I didn't want to wake her."

After placing her belongings to the side she nodded and advanced in my direction.

I felt my cheeks heat up causing Aurora to laugh.

"Anyways. Thank you for watching over Ari. I know that she can be a handful."

The blonde was now in front of me with her hands stuffed in the black dress pants that she wore.

I shook my head, "It's no problem. She was an angel."

"Of course she was." she mumbled with a smile to herself before pulling five one hundred dollar bills from her pants pocket.

She hovered the money in the front of me as it sat prettily in between her fingers.

"I expect to see you soon, yeah?"

I stared into her coffee brown eyes — feeling as if I was being swirled into the mixture.

"Uh— yes. Definitely." I confirmed with a head nod.

Aurora smirked before releasing the bills from her slender, long fingers and placing it into my hand.

"See you then, Iris."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 (𝐖𝐋𝐖)Where stories live. Discover now