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“Why are flamingoes pink?”Leo asks as he plays with a pair of salt and pepper shakers on the gingham tablecloth. After a long day out in the sun, Roman picked out a café overlooking the birds. My feet are glad for the reprieve, currently throbbing in my sneakers. A week in the place wouldn’t be enough to see every single animal and display.
My eyes search for Roman across the outdoor seating area and find him at the front of the queue, getting our ice creams. I feel slightly childish considering the fact Roman isn’t buying anything for himself, but who am I to turn down a chocolate sundae — from a billionaire, no less? I’ll agree to anything so long as he’s paying.
“Well, their feathers turn pink when they eat a lot of shrimp.” I take the salt out of his hands before he decides to season the tablecloth.
“What color would they be if they didn’t eat shrimp?”
“I guess they would be white.”
“And why do they stand on one leg?”
I’m saved from teaching a biology lesson on flamingoes when Roman places a huge glass bowl of ice cream in front of each of us.
“Don’t eat it too quickly,” he murmurs, ruffling Leo’s hair before he looks at me. “You too.”
“Dad…?” Leo gulps down a huge, syrupy spoonful of his mint chocolate ice cream, and then another, clearly disregarding his father’s orders.
Roman hums distractedly as he checks his phone. I’m surprised: he’s only taken it out intermittently throughout the day, always when Leo is engrossed in the animals. I must really have gotten under his skin last night.
The thought sparks pride and something more, something addictive, inside me.
I affect him just like he does me. I may even have some control over him. After so long of being the victim, being small, it’s exhilarating, especially with a man like him. He could change the whole world with his money, but I could change him with a few words.
“Can I play in the park?” Leo asks in the most innocent, cutest manner.
Roman sighs. “I just got you ice cream. It’ll melt, bud.”
“Please?” Leo clasps his hands together, begging, and Roman quickly admits defeat.
“Fine. Just stay where I can see you!”
Leo is already zooming off to the playground. I make sure to keep an eye on him as he lines up to use the curly slide painted gray to mimic an elephant trunk. Places like this always make me wary, especially when I’m taking care of a billionaire’s son. If anyone knew about Roman’s wealth — which, considering his generous tipping and expensive getup, isn’t hard to figure out — they could easily use Leo as leverage. It’s an awful thought, but he must see the possibility too, surely.
Or maybe not. He’s typing on his phone as though the worry hasn’t crossed his mind.
I sigh and pluck a piece of fudge from Leo’s glass, which earns his attention.
“You didn’t have enough already?” His brows knit together, casting a shadow over his eyes.
I shrug. “Mine didn’t come with fudge.” I chew the gooey, sugary mess and then ask, “You’re going to let it go to waste?”
“Guess so.”
“Are you lactose intolerant or something? Because they probably do dairy-free ice cream…”
“No, I’m not lactose intolerant.” He shakes his head as though I’m being ridiculous, then finally slips his phone away.
With only the table between us, it feels too intense, so I quickly avert my gaze back to the playground. Leo seems to have made a friend, a girl just a little older than him, with red pigtails and a gap where her front teeth should be.
“So… are you going to tell me why?” I ask through a mouthful of chocolate chips. I take small bites, afraid I might quickly end up with it around my face otherwise. That wouldn’t be a very professional look. Then again, we skipped ‘professional’ a long time ago. There’s nothing normal about a nanny tagging along to a zoo outing with the kid’s dad. It’s hard not to feel like we’re playing happy families when I look around to find groups who look just like us.
“Why what?” His voice is sharp, as though he already knows the answer.
“Why do you keep him a secret? He’s a good kid. You should be proud of him.”
“I am proud of him.” There’s a warning in those words; sharp and dangerous.
