Getting A Mom: Baby Sitting His Daughter

Chapter 6

(Lonely in the Mansion)

Pearl let out a ragged sigh as the taillights of the limousine faded down the driveway. Mia was gone, but the silence she left behind pressed down like a physical weight. Pearl’s hands moved automatically, tidying the breakfast nook, stacking bowls and wiping crumbs, as if every surface could be polished enough to erase her anxiety.

She had barely registered the soft tread of Italian leather on marble before a wall of charcoal wool was inches from her face.

The bowls slipped from her hands, clattering across the floor with a deafening ring. Her heart jumped into her throat.

“Good morning… Mr Ace,” she stammered, voice trembling.

“Morning.” His eyes didn’t flicker, but the air around him thickened, taut and predatory. 

He bypassed her, moving toward the chrome coffee machine with a predator’s grace. Pearl froze in place, realizing she’d overstepped… again.

“I just wanted to get everything in order before you left,” she added, breath catching in her chest.

He hummed, the sound low and deliberate, as he watched the dark liquid swirl into his cup.

 “Your job here is to look after Mia. She’s stubborn, but she’s…” A rare, fleeting smile tugged at his lips. “…she’s a lovely girl. You shouldn’t be wasting time on household chores.”

Pearl’s stomach twisted. She wanted to nod, to say something clever, but all she could do was swallow. Invisible. Be invisible. Don’t mess this up.

“Yes, but I wanted to—”

“Do not! Interrupt! When I am speaking!”

The snap of his voice cracked like lightning. Pearl flinched, a shiver running down her spine. This house has a rhythm… and I am not part of it yet. Not fully.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, trying to steady her trembling hands.

Ace took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee. “What is your name again?”

“Pearl. Pearl Augustine.”

“Pearl.” The name rolled off his tongue like a coin, heavy and deliberate. “You have a lot to learn.”

He turned and strode into the living room. 

Pearl hesitated for a heartbeat, weighing her next move. Follow him. Observe. Learn. Any slip could cost me more than just a bad impression. 

She grabbed her cleaning gloves and hurried after him, heart hammering in her chest.

“The chef, the cleaning staff, and the gardener are all on leave,” Ace said without turning. “They return next week.”

Pearl nodded, biting her lip, her mind racing through menus, schedules, and her mental checklist. Mia. Meals. Bedtime. Rules. Don’t fail. Don’t be late. Don’t be obvious.

“Your primary focus is Mia. Get her to bed early. Be firm but fair. When she returns from school, she’ll want to discuss her day. Listen to her.” He paused, eyes piercing hers.

 “My rules are simple. I value my privacy above all else. Do not disturb me for trivialities. If it doesn’t involve my daughter’s immediate well-being, I am not to be bothered. I am your boss. You answer to me. If you need anything, call the driver. He will handle your transport.”

Pearl swallowed hard, nodding silently. Every word a rule, every glance a warning. I have to navigate this perfectly… one misstep, and it will all unravel.

“I have a question,” she said, her voice small but steady.

“Go ahead.”

“Since the staff is away… can I prepare the meals? For Mia, and—if it’s alright—for you as well?” She drew a deep breath. “I respect your boundaries, sir. I won’t be a problem.”

Ace studied her, sharp eyes assessing every nuance in her posture, every tremor in her voice. 

“Mia is particular about her palate. You can handle her meals. I will manage my own.”

Pearl let out a quiet exhale, though her heart still thundered. Control the chaos. Be precise. Don’t let him see you sweat.

“Alright. No problem, Ace.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Pearl could almost hear the whirring of her own thoughts. Every action is measured. Every word recorded. Breathe. Survive today.

Ace’s brow arched, expression shifting from cold to a fleeting curiosity. 

“Are we on friendly terms now, Miss Augustine?”

Pearl felt the blood drain from her face. “No, sir. I… I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond. He turned and walked out, the click of the lock resonating like a judgment. Pearl sank into a chair, pressing her hands to her face. Like father, like daughter. I am in deep now… and there’s no way out but forward.