Profession

9| Profession

☼Willow☼

My name is Willow.

Willow Chloé Bardot.

But apparently, that seems unknown to Mr. Moretti because he hasn't used my name once when calling me. It has been four days since he was back from his business trip, and I've seen him once since then.

He showed himself at dinner last night but otherwise, he is locked up in his office. His office is one room away from my room and whenever I have to pass by, I walk so slowly and carefully that it makes me look and feel idiotic.

Today is a weekend and I'm up, early as usual, and making breakfast. It was currently 6:50 a.m. and I had baked some peanut butter cookies. I had also brought out some eggs to scramble alongside some bacon and toast.

By the time I was done setting the table, it was 7:30 a.m.

"Good job, Willow," I said mentally patting myself on the back for finishing on time.

"Good morning, Wooly." Isabella's small voice grumbled making me snap out of my thoughts.

Right on time.

"Morning, Bella," I said with a smile turning in the direction of the voice.

Isabella rubbed her eyes with her small fist as she came into the kitchen with Lucas holding her hand. She was wearing her pajamas that had Nemo printed all over them and with the state her hair was in, it made her look like an overworked painter. She had a pout resting on her lips which made me laugh as I went to scoop her in my arms.

She isn't a morning person.

"Morning, Will Pill," Lucas said with a grin as I attached the little girl to my hip. "What's for breakfast, it smells good."

"Did you guys brush your teeth?" I asked, two sets of heads bobbing in response.

I laughed as I ruffled his hair, his smile growing wider as his hair got messier.

"I made toast with some eggs and bacon," I said going to put Isabella in her seat. "I made some cookies too."

"Whoa," Lucas said taking his seat, his eyes set on the stack of cookies in the middle of the table.

I immediately started serving them, making sure not to spill anything.

"You guys can have the cookies after breakfast, okay?" I said and they hummed in agreement before starting to eat.

I wasn't that hungry because I had some toast while I was cooking. But still, I put four cookies on my plate and poured myself a glass of warm milk before sitting next to Isabella.

Isabella loves warm toast, she was already halfway through one and I had to tell her to slow down, or she would choke on bread. I had to make her drink her orange juice and feed her some eggs before allowing her on the toast again.

She couldn't count her fingers while holding the toast, so she tapped her little fingers around the bread instead.

I took a cookie and bit into it, happy that it had enough peanut butter as I wanted. I smiled to myself before raising my glass to drink the milk.

"Good morning, Daddy." Isabella greeted beside me making me stop mid-sip.

I immediately put my glass down and looked up toward the entrance.

"Good morning, Dad." Lucas greeted him also.

"Morning, children." Mr. Moretti's groggy voice made my eyes widen.

Why did I think his morning voice was going to sound like he usually sounds? Calm and collected.

His eyes dropped to mine as he started to walk in, making me stand up from my seat. I tried to put my hands behind me, but it only made my chest push out and I didn't have a bra on.

I was wearing a pair of matching pajama sets. It was black and the cotton was thin but soft, the sleeves were long, and the pants reached my ankles. I got them as a gift from Grams last Christmas. My hair was thrown in a bun that was presentable enough for this time of the morning.

I ended up awkwardly putting my hands by my side.

"Good morning, sir," I greeted with a small smile.

His eyes on me didn't waver as he continued to walk inside the kitchen. My brows furrowed slightly, and my smile slowly started to drop when I saw that he was starting to approach me. His steps were firm and certain, his hair was disheveled and curly, and it was a contrast from his normal straight, styled hair. He was wearing a black T-shirt with black sweatpants.

He was walking to me.

Uhm.

My legs felt frozen in place, but my feet managed to take one step back in a stagger. My voice got caught up in my throat and I felt dumb and confused.

Does he have something to tell me?

I suddenly felt the need to hold my breath when he stood in front of me. My head craned up to look at him and deep inside all I wanted to do was smack myself senseless for making myself look at him.

"Nanny," he said, his deep groggy voice breaking the silence. "Good morning."

Shit. Holy s**t—

I blinked twice at his sculptured face before nodding quickly in acknowledgement. His eyes lingered for a second before drawing back the chair I was previously seated on and sitting on it.

I let out a breath and hurriedly walked to the other side of the table where Lucas was.

Mr. Moretti flashed Isabella a tired smile making her return the gesture with the same energy.

Lucas had finished his food, drinking more of his water than orange juice.

"Still have room for a cookie?" I asked him which earned me an enthusiastic nod.

I smiled taking out two cookies from the pile and putting them on a saucer for him.

My eyes briefly darted to Mr. Moretti who was picking up a cookie from my plate. He observed the cookie with scrunched eyebrows as if he was trying to uncover a secret behind it before stuffing it in his mouth.

I felt a faint smile form on my lips at the sight of his cheeks being filled up.

What the f**k, Willow?

After he chewed for a moment, he suddenly paused, his hands that were placed on the table stilled as if he had tasted something he didn't like in the cookie.

I opened my mouth to ask him, but he swallowed, raising my cup of milk immediately to his lips.

Something isn't...right.

"Will," Lucas called making me peel my eyes away from his father's shaky hand to him.

"What is it, Lucas?" I asked, frowning at his panicked eyes.

"This has peanut butter in it," he told me.

I nodded confusedly, my hand dropping on his shoulders.

"Is something wrong, Luke?"

"Dad can't have peanuts," he said, his voice rising in panic. "He's gonna die."

I felt my stomach drop to the base of my guts. I immediately shot out of my seat, my eyes darting to Mr. Moretti.

"Daddy?" Isabella called, her eyes glancing up at her father worriedly.

He was already starting to get up. The table was supporting his weight as he tried to stand up completely.

"s**t," I muttered as I rushed to get to his side. "Mr. Moretti, are you okay— of course, you're not, what am I saying?" I blurted as I reached him.

I was starting to panic, I didn't know what to do. I don't even know what's happening.

"Are you allergic to peanuts, sir?" I asked as I tried to put his arm around my neck.

"Yes." he managed to choke out.

His face was red, his lips swollen, and his eyes watery.

When I managed to make him stand with my support, I started to walk out of the kitchen.

"Do you have medications or EpiPen anywhere?" I asked again as we hurriedly walked out.

"My room," he responded.

"Okay," I grunted. "Lucas, stay here and look after your sister, okay?" I told him when I saw him start to follow us.

He nodded, his eyes starting to get glossy. I didn't have the time to tell him not to cry, not when his father was having an allergic reaction.

"I don't think we're gonna make it in time." I breathed when we got to the bottom of the stairs. "Maybe I should ask one of the securities for help–"

"We'll make it." Mr. Moretti said gripping onto the railing by his side.

I wanted to tell him that we couldn't, especially since the stairs were so much, but I didn't have to courage to argue with him, not even in this state.

I nodded weakly, my eyes starting to get glossy too. I put one of my arms behind him and the other firmly gripping his arm that was looped around my neck.

We climbed the stairs, we were faster than I had expected. At one point, his hands got weak and slipped from the railing almost making us fall but I managed to hold my feet, my ankle twisting in the process, but we went on.

It was when we finally reached upstairs that I realized that I didn't know where his room was.

"Mr. Moretti," I started to say but he moved forward making me follow his direction.

His room was right next to his study. His room is the room next to mine.

I never knew that!

His hives had started to show when I placed him on his bed. He weakly pointed to his side drawer before his hand fell limp at the edge of the bed.

I ransacked the drawer in a flash. The EpiPen's were hidden below a hefty pile of paper's and I didn't know why he would hide a medication, especially one that is as important as this.

I pulled out the injection and stabbed it into his thigh making his body jerk once. I disposed of the syringe on the carpet and attended to my employer's limp body.

"Mr. Moretti?" I called quietly when I saw that he wasn't moving. "Mr. Moretti, sir, can you hear me?" I asked going over to kneel near where his head was propped on a pillow.

A single tear escaped my eye creating a trail for countless to follow.

Did I kill their father? Did I just kill a human?

"Sir, can you hear me, please?" I stifled a sob, my body was shaking from panic. I don't know what to do.

Why isn't the EpiPen working? Was I too late?

My shaky fingers pushed back the hair that was framing his face before holding his face with both hands.

"Open your eyes," I cried patting his cheeks. "Come on, wake up. Wake up, please."

I patted his cheeks again, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't, my fingers ran cold, and my butt dropped to the floor. My stomach twisted and I could taste the bile rising in my throat.

I burst into tears, my hand covering my mouth as I did.

I killed him, he's dead.

My legs dragged up and I hugged my knees to my chest, I buried my face between them as I cried.

"This is all my fault." I wept. "I should've never baked cookies, I didn't know you were allergic, I swear."

I feel miserable. I single-handedly killed the father of the children I'm babysitting.

"I should have asked for help," I sniffled. "If we had gotten here sooner then you would've been okay, this is all my fault, I'm sorry."

Another wave of tears burst through. I wish there was something I could have done to save him.

Willow, you f****d up. You killed him. His children are now orphans thanks to you.

What am I going to tell the kids? How am I supposed to explain all this to Julia when she comes? How is Theo going to take this in?

They're all going to hate me.

Isabella and Lucas are going to hate me.

I hugged my legs tighter around me, my head feeling heavy and my eyes burning from all the tears I'd shed in the past few minutes.

I was starting to think of how to approach the kids when I felt a light pressure on my head.

My hair was brushed back before the pressure was back at the top of my head again.

"I'm okay," a weak calm voice said making me stiffen momentarily.

"Willow."