3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Cole
The aroma of fresh coffee greets me as I step into the kitchen, rubbing the lingering exhaustion from my eyes. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, bathing the space in warm light. The polished counters gleam, every surface as pristine as a showroom thanks to Evelyn’s meticulous care—even when she’s been out late the night before.
Evelyn is already bustling around the kitchen, moving with practiced efficiency as she places a plate of eggs and toast on the island. Her dark hair is pulled back into a sleek bun, and her crisp white chef’s coat is spotless, as always. She glances up as I enter, offering a quick nod.
“Good morning, Mr. Wagner,” she says briskly, her tone as professional as ever. “Coffee’s fresh. Would you like a cup?”
“Morning. I can grab it myself,” I reply, heading for the coffee pot.
Robbie is already seated at the breakfast table, his small frame almost swallowed by the oversized chair. He’s wearing dinosaur pajamas, the green fabric dotted with cartoon T-Rexes and Triceratops .
His plate holds a stack of pancakes, neatly cut into bite-sized pieces, though his fork is currently untouched as he’s trying to balance two pieces of bacon on the plate.
“Good morning,” I say, sliding into a chair at the table.
“Good morning,” he replies, his tone unusually bright.
That catches me off guard. I glance at him, surprised. Robbie is usually quiet in the mornings—quiet in general, really. Conversations with him are sparse, and I’ve come to expect little more than polite nods or a few mumbled words.
Evelyn brings a plate of eggs and toast to the table, setting it down at my usual spot. “Here you go, sir. Let me know if you’d like anything else.”
“Thank you,” I say then turn to Robbie. “How are the pancakes?”
“They’re good,” he says with a small smile. “Evelyn made them look like dinosaurs.”
Evelyn gives a small smirk as she wipes her hands on a dish towel. “He’s a fan of the T-Rex, so I thought I’d surprise him this morning. He seems to be in a better mood than usual.”
I watch him for a moment, trying to pinpoint exactly what’s different. There’s a lightness in his expression that I can’t quite place, very unlike the usual guarded demeanor I’ve grown used to.
He’s focused now on his task, his little tongue caught between his teeth .
“You’re in a good mood this morning,” I observe.
His hazel eyes brighten, and he sits up a little straighter, letting his bacon fall to the plate. “Annie read me a story last night.”
I pause, lowering my mug. “Did she?”
Evelyn raises an eyebrow at that, glancing over her shoulder from where she’s started cleaning up.
Robbie nods, his face lighting up. “It was about a knight and a dragon. She did voices and made the dragons roar and everything. It was funny.”
The corners of my mouth twitch in what might be a smile, though I mask it with another sip of coffee. “That sounds... nice.”
“It was,” Robbie says, picking up his fork and finally digging into his pancakes. “She stayed until I fell asleep.”
I watch him for a moment, noting the unusual ease in his demeanor. It’s not just the words he’s saying—it’s the way he’s saying them. Robbie rarely volunteers information like this, let alone with such enthusiasm.
My chest tightens at the thought. Last night, I’d been so focused on getting through the gala and managing the crisis of the nanny situation that I hadn’t thought much about how Robbie would react to Annie.
I’d really only just thought about someone being in the house to watch him .
“She sounds like she was fun,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.
“She was,” he says, stabbing a piece of pancake with his fork. “Do you think she’ll come back?”
The question hits me harder than I expect. Robbie’s voice is so hopeful, so innocent—and very unexpected.
Evelyn pauses near the sink, glancing over her shoulder as if curious about my answer.
Uncomfortable with the audience, I set my mug down, already bracing for the disappointment I know is coming. “Annie was just helping out last night. She has her own job at the office.”
His face falls slightly, the excitement dimming in his eyes.
“Oh.”
The single syllable carries more weight than I expect, and I feel a pang of something I can’t quite name.
“I’m going to call the agency today,” I say, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ll find someone new, someone who can be here all the time.”
Robbie doesn’t respond. He stares down at his pancakes, poking at the syrup-soaked pieces with his fork. The energy that was so vibrant just seconds ago seems to have drained out of him, leaving the quiet, withdrawn version of him I’ve grown used to.
The change is unsettling, more so than I want to admit.
“Robbie,” I say after a long pause. “Is something wrong?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t look up.
“You can tell me,” I add, though my voice sounds stiffer than I intend.
“I just liked her.” He shrugs, his small shoulders barely moving. “Didn’t she like me?”
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. What can I even say to that? How do I begin to respond?
Why would Robbie even say something like that?
Before I can find the right words, Evelyn is there already, rushing to his side.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says gently, her voice warm and soothing. “Of course she liked you. How could she not? You’re such a sweet boy.”
Robbie looks up at her hesitantly, his big hazel eyes searching her face for reassurance.
“Really?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Evelyn nods, offering him a small smile. “Really. Why would you think that she didn’t like you?”
He shrugs one shoulder, his eyes glued to the table. “She doesn’t want to come back.”
“Honey,” Evelyn says, pulling my son into her arms. “she probably just has a lot of responsibilities at work, that’s all. It doesn’t mean she didn’t like spending time with you. ”
Robbie frowns, his fingers curling tighter around his fork. “But I want her to come back.”
“I know, sweetheart. Sometimes adults have to make tough decisions about their time, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy being with you.”
I watch the exchange silently, a knot tightening in my chest, feeling completely useless. I’ve never been good at this—this comforting, this explaining. Evelyn handles it with ease. Everyone handles it with ease—even Annie, apparently, though she claimed she’d never babysat before.
Everyone except me.
Robbie nods slowly, though the disappointment is still clear in his expression. He picks up a piece of pancake but doesn’t eat it, just stares at it like it’s suddenly lost its appeal.
Evelyn stands and puts on hand on Robbie’s head and musses up his hair. Over his head, she gives me a pointed look as if to say,Your turn.
I clear my throat, unsure how to even begin. “Robbie,” I say, my voice softer than usual. “I’m going to find someone who can be here for you all the time, someone who can do the same things Annie did. Maybe even better.”
Robbie’s gaze doesn’t lift from his plate, and his grip on the fork tightens. “But I don’t want someone else,” he mutters.
I feel a pang of guilt, sharp and unexpected. I’m used to dealing with high-stakes negotiations, multimillion-dollar deals, and board room standoffs. But this? This is entirely different, and I feel woefully unprepared.
“You liked her,” I say, more as a statement than a question.
He nods. “She played dinosaurs with me.”
The simplicity of the words hits me harder than I expect. I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair.
The sight of him like this—so small, so dejected—nearly breaks me. Robbie doesn’t ask for much—in fact, he never asks me for anything. For him to latch onto Annie like this... it’s unexpected.
Evelyn breaks the tense silence, her tone a little lighter this time. “Well, we can’t make any promises, but who knows? Maybe Annie will visit again sometime. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Robbie looks up at her, the smallest glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You think so?”
“Maybe,” Evelyn says with a soft smile. “But in the meantime, we’ll make sure whoever comes next will play dinosaurs with you, too, okay?”
Robbie nods reluctantly, finally putting the piece of pancake in his mouth.
I exhale slowly, grateful for Evelyn’s intervention. She always seems to know what to say, how to smooth things over. But as I watch Robbie quietly return to his breakfast, the guilt lingers.
“Thanks, Evelyn,” I say under my breath as she passes by me to grab another dish.
“Anytime,” she replies, her tone low. But her next words are firm. “You need to think about what he’s really asking for, Mr. Wagner. It’s not just about a nanny.”
I don’t respond, but her words stick with me as I drain the rest of my coffee.
“I have some calls to make,” I say, standing. “Finish your breakfast.”
Robbie nods again, his gaze still fixed on his plate.
I walk out of the kitchen, my footsteps echoing in the quiet house. The morning sunlight feels too bright, too harsh, as I head toward my office.
I tell myself it’s fine. Robbie will adjust. He always does.
But the image of his downcast expression lingers, and for the first time in a long while, I wonder if I’m the one who needs to adjust.