Daphne Collins, a 21-year-old aspiring artist who is attempting to make her way in the world of the bustling New York City. Though when a new nannying job gets offered to her, she takes it, hopeful that it'll give her the extra money and nudge to ma...
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Chapter Song - There She Goes by The La's & My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift
"Daddy, are mermaids real?" Bridie asks me, munching on her mac 'N' cheese, Hallie sat next to her eating her toast for dinner.
I shrug. "I'm not sure, but the ocean is very big and a lot has been unexplored, so we can't rule it out," I answer her truthfully.
She nods. "I think they are, because I want to be one," she says and I just go with her wild imagination.
"How do you become a mermaid?" Hallie asks Bridie.
Bridie shrugs. "I don't know, I'll have to ask them," she answers her sister and I smile at their conversation.
They always talk about the weirdest topics, their minds running free with each other as they explore every possible scenario or concept around a certain topic. It's truly entertaining.
"Where's mummy? She makes my toast and doesn't burn it," Hallie grumbles, giving me a angered look.
I'm not really a toast person, I have porridge every morning and a cup of black coffee. Though when I do have toast, I like mine burnt, I guess I forgot Hallie likes it barely toasted, so it's on the edge of still being bread.
"Sorry sweetheart," I apologise. "But mummy's upstairs getting ready," I answer her past question.
"Ready for what? Where's she going?" Hallie asks, Bridie listening in, just as eager to know.
I smile at their love for Daphne. "We're going to an art gallery tonight, they're having a show and some of mummy's pieces are being showcased," I answer them and they squeal with delight.
"Now, are you two done? Because you can't wear track-pants and jumpers to an art gallery," I tell them and they giggle, nodding at my question.
Hurrying the girls upstairs, I pick out their outfits and help Bridie with the buttons on her shirt, before leaving them to check on Daphne.
I walk into our bedroom, the bathroom door wide open, Daphne standing in front of the sink, her products messily strayed around the counter.
I step in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning on the doorframe, my arms crossed over my chest as I watch her get ready.
She brushes through her blonde hair, pinning two piece back on either side. Noticing me in the mirror she smiles shyly, shaking her head as she tries to focus on her make up.
"Stalker," she says, though a smile is enveloped on her face.
I let out a light laugh. "For you, yes," I reply and she rolls her eyes.
I step forward, wrapping my arms around her waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. She places a hand on my face, rubbing my scruffy beard with her hand.
