Don't Play With Fire

Chapter Twelve

"I did make it sound like they were seven, now that I think about it." Santiago said with a chuckle but I wasn't laughing. "Look, they may be nineteen but they are very.. spoiled. Especially Elena. I knew if they were alone, they'd have fifty parties before I came back."

I raised my eyes up as the girl poured orange juice into a glass while on the phone. "She doesn't seem to want me here, Santiago.."

"I know, I already had her mother call her. A little check will keep her in line." My eyebrows shot up. "But Y/n, I need you to make sure she's back in the house every night by nine. She's dating this boy and I hate his guts, I don't want my nineteen year old daughter getting pregnant. I'm not saying you need to be barred in, but when it hits night time..Got it?"

"You don't have to worry about that. And your son?" I asked, just as I saw a sudden pillow fly out of nowhere and crash into Elena's head, making her drop the glass.

Santiago sighed on the other line. "He's a big kid. He'll spend most of his time in the room with his friends playing video games."

"Got it." The boy then rounded the corner laughing. "Well, I'll let you go."

"Call me if you need anything." He said before hanging up, leaving me to face these grown ass 'kids'

"So uh.." The guy chewed on a pop tarts nodding at me. "You the nanny?" He said with a teasing tone. "Gonna change my diapers?"

"Shut up and clean this mess, Diego." Elena huffed before grabbing her phone, starting out of the kitchen. "I'm going to get food."

"I was going to um.." She stopped and gave me an over dramatic 'what now?' look. "I can cook breakfast." Her head tilted as I shrugged softly. "I actually planned a meal. You guys like frittatas?" When they both continued to look at me in confusion, I shook my head. "One of the best Italian breakfasts you can have. I'll make it."

"Whatever." Elena huffed out before climbing the stairs again with a groan at every step. I shook my head softly at her with a chuckle before pulling open the fridge.

"So," I hummed at Diego as he sat on the edge of the counter. "You work for my dad?"

"I do." After getting all the ingredients, I turned around and saw his curious eyes. "Just started recently." I then washed my hands before pulling on a black apron that was hanging up.

He nodded softly and watched me crack eggs into a bowl, whisking them. "You come from America, huh?" I nodded and he chuckled. "You sound American."

"I guess you're right." I sighed out, hoping he'd just leave so I can cook. I didn't like being bothered when cooking unless it was a cooking date of course. When I looked up after a few seconds, he was still sitting there.. watching me. I set the bowl down and faced him with raised eyebrows. "What's up?"

He shrugged. "I've always wanted to go to America but dad says it's too dangerous. But why would he teach us fluent English and learn everything about America if we can't go." I silently stared at him, waiting for what the hell that had to do with me. "Can you tell me about it?"

I pulled my head back in shock at how small he sounded. He was definitely a sheltered kid. "Uh.. sure. What do you want to know?"

"How about, the girls? The ones here are very stuck up."

I laughed softly. "Sorry to ruin it but those girls exist everywhere." He frowned and I nodded. "Yeah, especially if you go to California. But, where I'm from, they love to party and are very outspoken. Which is all the girls I've been with." After having everything prepped, I poured the egg mixture into a skillet over fire before started to chop up the green onions and peppers.