Forbidden desires

"Good morning sir!

I'm the new nanny,you asked that I resumed today".

"Oh,the one from coco?

Yes sir! I replied.

Welcome,settle in,tomorrow you begin your duties.

Breakfast is at 7:00pm not a minute delay.

sheyla's school bus arrives at exactly 7:30,pls no delay. She gets to choose her hairstyles. No tea,compulsory cake in lunch box,bedtime,9:00pm sharp,no exceptions understood?

"Yes, sir," I replied lost in thought trying to recollect all he just mentioned.

We would see later in the day he said as he stormed out with his dangling suitcase.

"My name is peri ....yes peri,short for periwrikles,chuckles ,"yes I know,who bears that? Well periwrikles was mum's favourite sea food as at the time I was born.

" Chaotic right? Took her a whole 9months to come up with a name and she settled for that ? Issssh to say that dad agreed to.....

"Miss peri?"

I Jolted into reality,"yes miss peri"I said amidst smiles."I see,well I am Janet the previous nanny,here to pack up my...."

Did you get fired? I asked concerned.

"Oh no, I didn't,"I am relocating with my family."

"Oh, nice I said," relieved.

"Any tips for me?" I asked smiling

"Well you might need an helmet to protect your head from sheyla's antics"she stated laughing.

"That bad?"I asked worried.

"Oh, no, come on, I was only kidding,sheyla's a good girl,she only needs to get used to you,I hope she warms up to you soon."

"I'll leave you to settle in".

"Alright Janet,thank you and do have a safe trip."

* * *

As I stepped into the bedroom allocated to me, I was taken aback by its elegance. "Exquisite taste," I breathed, impressed. The king-sized bed was the centerpiece, with bamboo wood stands adorned with intricate, flowery patterns.

The artwork on the walls was a treasure trove of colors and emotions, a perfect antidote for a bad day.

I rushed into the bathroom, and my jaw dropped in wonder. "Never seen a bigger bathroom," I exclaimed, and it's in my favorite color, "purple!".

The marble tiles glistened like the ocean, radiating a sense of serenity. I flopped onto the bed, grinning from ear to ear.

"Home sweet home!" I squealed, feeling like the luckiest person alive. "I hope Sheyla and her father treat me as well as this room is decorated," I chuckled, laughter bubbling up from within.

* * *

Grrrrrrrrrrr! Grrrrrrrrrr! I woke up to a blonde-haired girl staring at me, her face inches apart from mine. I felt like I was dreaming, but when I closed and opened my eyes again, the unsettling reality remained.

I let out a terrified scream and sprinted to the door, only to remember I had just moved into Mr. Pius's house, who has a blonde-haired 9year old daughter, "Sheyla!"

I returned to the bedroom, trying to compose myself. "Sheyla?" I called, extending a hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you. I'm the new nanny."

Sheyla looked at my hand with disgust and pushed it away. "I don't like you!" she exclaimed. and "I want to have a cake!" she said, storming out of my bedroom.

I couldn't help but think, "It's only my first day, and I already have a hater!" Sheyla's parting words still lingered in the air. I murmured to myself, "Oh lord, remind me not to get on the bad side of Sheyla...

" Grrrrrrr... I picked up my phone to turn off the alarm and caught sight of the time - 6:00 p.m. already! I had slept for a long time.

Mr.pius had said I could resume work the next day,"why is sheyla being hostile toward me? "To say that she is requesting for a cake today of all days!.

Truth be told I had only started mastering my cake making skills after applying for this job.

Gina had suggested I included baking as a skill so I watched videos on YouTube to practice until I landed the job,well everything happened so fast, I got called up three days later,here I am in my full glory and disaster.

Walking into the kitchen my present dilemma could not distract me from seeing the kitchen in its glory,I would pay to cook here!

The utensils are arranged in order of their colours and sizes,they looked like they have never been used,sparkling clean!

It has a mother flipping air conditioner and an heat extractor!

Holly Molly! This is my dream kitchen!

I can barely put up with heat, and this kitchen is as cool as a paradise,I might as well move my bed here!.

I ran my hand on the cabinets they were so smooth and the sleek water sinks geez! I was lost in admiration until sheyla walked in.

"Hey! Are you going to stand there like an old,expired statues or bake my cake?"

Jolting back to reality I scrambled to find the cabinet where the pans and ingredients are kept. Sheyla's presence in the kitchen made me fidgety.

It took a while to find the cabinets, and the bitter girl stood there, watching me with disgust, without offering any help. Of course, she knew where they were!.

Once I found the cabinets, I moved on to the next phase of my dilemma: how to bake this cake.

Before I could start, Sheyla screamed, "Vanilla and little dots of strawberry flavor!" Then, she stormed out.

I muttered sadly, "Wait, I can barely bake a cake, and now it comes with a preference?" Maybe I should just pack up my bags and leave.

I'll probably end up fired after this attempt. Luckily, Sheyla had left, so I pulled up one of my favorite YouTube videos on how to bake a cake and followed the content creator's instructions.

I carefully measured out the ingredients, trying to focus on the recipe rather than my growing anxiety.

As I mixed and stirred, I couldn't help but think about Sheyla's demanding behavior. Why is this 9year old girl so determined to make my life difficult? Just as I was about to put the cake in the oven, I heard a faint cry from outside the kitchen.

"It's not supposed to be a plain vanilla cake! It's supposed to have little dots of strawberry flavor!" Sheyla's voice echoed through the hallway.

I took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "Okay, okay! I'll add the strawberry flavor!" I muttered under my breath, wondering how I was going to manage this.

As I frantically searched for strawberry flavoring, I knocked over a bag of flour, covering the countertop in a fine white powder. "Seriously?!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in frustration. Just then, Sheyla walked into the kitchen, a scowl on her face.

"What's taking so long? I want my cake now!"

I forced a smile onto my face, trying to placate Sheyla. "I'm so sorry, Sheyla. I'm just having a little trouble with the recipe. But I promise, your cake will be ready soon."

Sheyla crossed her arms, her scowl deepening.

"I better not have to wait much longer. I'm starving!"

I nodded hastily, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead. "Yes, of course. I'll just... um... add the strawberry flavoring now."

As I hastily added the flavoring, I couldn't help but wonder how I had ended up in this situation.

I was a nanny, not a professional baker! And yet, here I was, trying to create a elaborate cake for a demanding child. Just as I was about to put the cake in the oven, Sheyla spoke up again.

"And don't forget to make the frosting pink!" I felt a surge of frustration, but I bit my tongue and nodded.

"Yes, of course. Pink frosting." As I slid the cake into the oven, I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation.

What other demands would Sheyla make? And would I be able to deliver? Twenty-five minutes later,the timer went off, and I carefully removed the cake from the oven.

It looked... decent. Not perfect, but decent. I let it cool for a few minutes before attempting to frost it.

As I mixed the frosting, I added a few drops of red food coloring to give it a pink hue.

Sheyla walked into the kitchen just as I was spreading the frosting onto the cake. "Is that... pink?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

I nodded, trying to sound confident. "Yes, it's pink. Just like you asked for." Sheyla eyed the cake suspiciously, but didn't say anything else.

I took that as a good sign and continued to decorate the cake with sprinkles and edible glitter.

When I finished, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. The cake didn't look perfect, but it was... passable. I hoped Sheyla would be satisfied. "Okay, Sheyla, your cake is ready," I said, trying to sound cheerful.

Sheyla walked over to the counter, her eyes fixed on the cake. For a moment, she just stared at it. Then, her face scrunched up in distaste.

"This isn't what I wanted," she said, her voice dripping with disappointment.

My heart sank.

I had tried my best to make the cake according to sheyla's specifications, but apparently, it wasn't good enough.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to sound calm. "I thought I followed your instructions."

Sheyla crossed her arms, her face scrunched up in a scowl. "The frosting is too pink. And the sprinkles are wrong. I wanted rainbow sprinkles, not just colorful ones."

I felt a surge of frustration. How was I supposed to know the difference between colorful sprinkles and rainbow sprinkles?

"I'm sorry, Sheyla," I said, trying to sound apologetic. "I'll try to do better next time." But Sheyla just shook her head. "I don't want a next time. I want this cake to be perfect. Now."

I took a deep breath and tried to think of a solution. But before I could come up with anything, Sheyla's face lit up with a sly smile.

"I know what to do," she said, her voice dripping with mischief. "I would call my dad and ask him to bring home a new cake." My eyes widened in alarm. The last thing I wanted was for Sheyla's dad to come home and find out that I had failed to make a decent cake. But before I could protest, Sheyla had already grabbed the phone and was dialing her dad's number.

Sheyla's dad answered on the first ring, and Sheyla immediately began complaining about the cake.

"Dad, the nanny made a cake, but it's all wrong! The frosting is too pink, and the sprinkles are wrong."

I could hear Sheyla's dad trying to calm her down, but Sheyla was having none of it.

"Dad, can you please get a new cake when returning? I want a cake from the bakery, not this ugly thing." I felt my face growing hot with embarrassment.

I had tried my best, but it seemed like nothing I did was good enough for Sheyla.

Sheyla's dad finally agreed to come home with a new cake, and Sheyla hung up the phone with a smug look on her face. "See, I told you my dad would fix it," she said, looking at me with a superior attitude.

I forced a smile onto my face, trying not to let Sheyla's behavior get to me. "I'm glad we could find a solution," I said, trying to sound cheerful. But inside, I was seething.

I had never met a child as spoiled and demanding as Sheyla. And I had a feeling that this was only the beginning of a very long and challenging day. It was already 7:30 pm, and I had barely eaten all day.

I quietly walked back to my room, carrying the rejected cake and a bottle of juice. I sat down on the bed, munching on the cake angrily.

It wasn't that bad, but I knew Sheyla would have found something to complain about. As I ate, I started to feel a little better.

At least I got to enjoy the cake, not Sheyla. I laid back on the bed, waiting for Mr. Pius's return.

I knew another round of questioning was imminent, and I steeled myself for the conversation to come.

I let out a sad sigh, feeling a mix of emotions: frustration, exhaustion, and a hint of disappointment.

How did a simple cake become such a disaster? Just as I was starting to drift off into a melancholic reverie, I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Mr. Pius was back. I sat up straight, smoothing out my rumpled clothes and trying to compose myself.

Mr. Pius knocked on my door, and i called out, "Come in."

He entered the room, a look of concern etched on his face. "How was your day?" he asked, his eyes scanning the room and landing on the remains of the cake.

I hesitated, unsure of how much to share. But something about Mr. Pius's kind expression put me at ease.

I took a deep breath and launched into the story of the cake, Sheyla's demands, and my own frustration.

Mr. Pius listened attentively, his expression growing more serious with each passing moment.

When I finished,Mr. Pius's expression suddenly turned stern, and he frowned at me.

"However, I do expect more from you, Peri.You said you could bake when you applied for the job.

"Sheyla's demands may be...particular, but it's your job to ensure she's happy and satisfied."

I felt a surge of surprise and disappointment. I had expected Mr. Pius to understand my side of the story, but instead, he seemed to be scolding me.

"But, Mr. Pius, I did try my best," I protested. "Sheyla's expectations were very high, and I'm not a professional baker."

Mr. Pius's frown deepened. "That's no excuse, Peri. You need to step up your game and meet Sheyla's standards. She's a sensitive child, and she deserves the best."

I felt a sting from Mr. Pius's words, and I began to wonder if I was cut out for this job. Was I really expected to cater to Sheyla's every whim and demand?

"Yes, Mr. Pius," I said quietly, trying to hide my disappointment. Mr. Pius nodded, his expression still stern.

"Good. I expect to see improvement tomorrow. And Peri?" "Yes, Mr. Pius?" I replied, looking up at him.

"Make sure you apologize to Sheyla for not meeting her expectations. She was very upset, and I don't want her to feel uncomfortable around you."

I felt a lump form in my throat as I nodded, feeling a sense of frustration and resentment.

Why was I being forced to apologize for something that wasn't entirely my fault?

I nodded reluctantly, feeling a sense of unease. Apologize to Sheyla? After the way she had treated me? It didn't seem fair.

But I knew I had to keep my job, so I swallowed my pride and went to Sheyla's room to apologize.

Sheyla was sitting on her bed, playing with her dolls. She looked up at me with a smug expression, and I could tell she was enjoying the fact that I was apologizing to her.

"I'm sorry, Sheyla," I said, trying to sound sincere. "I know I didn't make the perfect cake, and I promise to do better next time." Sheyla's expression didn't change, but she nodded slightly. "Okay," she said.

"But next time, make sure it's perfect." I nodded, feeling a sense of relief that the apology was over. But as I turned to leave, Sheyla's voice stopped me.

"Oh, and Peri?" she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Yes, Sheyla?" I replied, turning back to her. "Make sure you make me breakfast in bed tomorrow," she said, smiling smugly.

"I want pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream."

I felt a surge of frustration, but I knew I had to keep my cool. "Okay, Sheyla," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll make sure to make your breakfast exactly how you like it."

As I left Sheyla's room, I couldn't help but wonder what other demands she would make of me.

And how long I could keep up with her spoiled behavior. I trudged back to my room, feeling drained and exhausted.

The events of the day had taken a toll on me, and I just wanted to collapse onto my bed and forget about everything. As I lay down, I felt my eyelids growing heavy, and before I knew it, I had fallen fast asleep.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was blaring in my ear, and I was groggily opening my eyes to find that it was already 8:00 am.

I sat up with a start, realizing that I had overslept and forgotten to make Sheyla's breakfast.

Panic set in as I threw off my covers and rushed to the kitchen.

But it was too late. Sheyla was already sitting at the table, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.

"Where's my breakfast?" she demanded, her voice shrill with anger.

I hesitated, knowing that I was in trouble. "I-I'm sorry, Sheyla," I stuttered.

"I overslept and forgot." Sheyla's face turned red with rage. "You forgot?!" she exclaimed. "How could you forget?!

I specifically told you what I wanted for breakfast!"

I took a deep breath and tried to apologize again, but Sheyla wasn't having it. She stormed out of the kitchen, leaving me feeling guilty and anxious.

I knew I had to face the music eventually. Mr. Pius was going to be furious when he found out that I had forgotten to make Sheyla's breakfast. And Sheyla...well, I didn't even want to think about what she would do next.

I was trying to figure out how to salvage the situation,when I heard the sound of Mr. Pius's voice behind me.

"Peri, what's going on here?" he asked, his tone stern and disapproving.

I turned around to face him, feeling a sense of dread wash over me.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Pius," I stuttered.

"I overslept and forgot to make Sheyla's breakfast." Mr. Pius's expression darkened. "Forgot?" he repeated.

"How could you forget something as important as Sheyla's breakfast?"

I shook my head, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"I don't know, Mr. Pius. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." But Mr. Pius was unconvinced.

"See that it doesn't," he said, his voice cold and detached.

"Sheyla's happiness and well-being are my top priority, and I expect you to remember that.

" I nodded, feeling a sense of shame and disappointment.

I knew I had let Mr. Pius down, and I worried that I might lose my job over this mistake.

Just then, Sheyla herself appeared in the doorway, a triumphant look on her face.

"Daddy, Peri forgot my breakfast," she said, her voice dripping with malice.

Mr. Pius's expression turned even darker. "I've already spoken to Peri about it, Sheyla," he said.

"But I think it's clear that Peri needs to shape up and start taking her responsibilities more seriously."

I felt a surge of fear at Mr. Pius's words. What did he mean by "shape up"? Was I in danger of losing my job?

"I'm sorry sir!"

"You have no excuse peri he said angrily."

"Sheyla, you are late for school,the school bus called earlier they are experiencing some troubles so I would be dropping you off at school today,we would grab breakfast on our way."

I watched them as they drove off,a part of me relieved that the little devil and her assistant are off my back,other part of me was scared of what is to come.

* * *

As I worked in the kitchen, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Mr. Pius's anger still lingered in the air, and I knew I had to make it up to him.

I decided to make his favorite lunch, chicken parmesan, and maybe even bake a cake to apologize to sheyla for my mistake.

As I cooked and baked, my mind wandered back to Sheyla and her behavior. I couldn't believe how spoiled and entitled she was. And Mr. Pius, enabling her behavior like that... it was frustrating, to say the least.

Just as I was finishing up lunch, I heard the sound of the front door opening. Mr. Pius and sheyla was back, and I knew I had to face the music.

I took a deep breath, wiped my hands on my apron, and went to greet him.

"Hello, Mr. Pius," I said, trying to sound cheerful.

"I made your favorite lunch, chicken parmesan."

"Hey sheyla," I baked a cake,this time with dots of strawberry flavor and rainbow frosting I smiled.

Mr. Pius looked at me sternly, but I could see a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"Peri, I... appreciate the effort," he said. "But let's talk about what happened this morning."

My heart sank, and I knew I was in for a lecture.

Mr. Pius led me to the dining room, where we sat down at the table. He looked at me sternly, his eyes narrowing.

"Peri, I'm extremely disappointed in you," he said, his voice firm but controlled. "You know how important it is to take care of Sheyla's needs, and yet you forgot to make her breakfast. That's unacceptable."

I looked down at my hands, feeling a surge of shame and regret.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Pius," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It won't happen again." Mr. Pius sighed, rubbing his temples.

"See that it doesn't," he said. "I expect more from you, Peri.

You're not just a nanny, you're a caregiver. And caregivers need to be reliable and responsible."

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. I knew I had let Mr. Pius down, and I was determined to make it up to him. But just as I was about to apologize again,

Mr. Pius dropped a bombshell.

"Peri, I've been thinking," he said, his eyes glinting with a hint of steel.

"Maybe it's time for us to re-evaluate your position here. Maybe you're not the right fit for our family after all."

My heart sank, and I felt a wave of panic wash over me.

Was I going to lose my job? I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

Lose my job? But I had just started, and I needed this job to support myself.

"Mr. Pius, please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I'll do anything to make it right.

I'll work extra hard, I'll take on more responsibilities... just please don't fire me."

Mr. Pius looked at me, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes, but then it was gone.

"I'll think about it, Peri," he said finally. "But in the meantime, I expect you to shape up and start meeting my expectations.

Can you do that for me?"

I nodded eagerly, relief washing over me. "Yes, Mr. Pius. I can do that. I promise." Mr. Pius nodded, seeming to accept my promise.

"Good. I'll be keeping an eye on you, Peri. Don't disappoint me." With that, he stood up and walked out of the dining room, leaving me feeling shaken and uncertain about my future.

"We had lunch already so we won't be having what you cooked you can as well savor on it like you did to the cake."

My cheeks flushed in embarrassment,I looked down at the floor, trying to hide my face.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Pius," I stuttered. "I didn't mean to..."

Mr. Pius waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine, Peri. Just... be more mindful in the future, okay?"

I nodded, still feeling embarrassed. I knew I had to get a grip and stop making mistakes like this.

As Mr. Pius walked away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration. Why was I always getting into trouble? And why did Mr. Pius seem so determined to make my life difficult?

I sighed and began to clear the table, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled over me. But as I glanced at the chicken parmesan I had made, I couldn't help but smile wryly. I guess I would be having lunch after all...