5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Cole
The clock on my desk ticks closer to five, each second grating against my nerves. The office outside is quieter now, with most of the staff wrapping up for the day. I tap my pen against the desk, staring at my computer screen but not really seeing it. My thoughts are elsewhere.
It’s been hours, and Annie still hasn’t given me an answer. How hard could it be? Double the pay, room and board, transportation—it’s not like I’m asking her to walk across coals.
Maybe this was a mistake. She’s a receptionist, not a nanny. She has no experience caring for a child, let alone managing someone like Robbie. What was I thinking?
I lean back in my chair, dragging a hand through my hair. I’m just about to scrap the whole idea and call the agency when there’s a sharp knock at the door.
“Come in,” I call, straightening in my seat.
The door opens, and Virginia steps inside. Her usual no-nonsense expression is in place, tablet in hand. Behind her is Annie, clutching her hands together nervously .
“Miss Fox is here,” Virginia announces before stepping aside to let Annie in.
Annie hesitates at the threshold, glancing at Virginia like she’s hoping for some kind of reassurance. None comes. Virginia gives her a brisk nod and exits, closing the door firmly behind her.
I watch as Annie turns her head to look at the closed door, her expression uncertain. She’s nervous—that much is obvious.
It gives me a moment to study her.
Her blonde hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, a few loose strands framing her face. The fitted blouse she’s wearing accentuates her curves, and the pencil skirt hugs her hips in a way that’s hard to ignore. Her blue eyes dart back to me, catching me mid-assessment.
I raise an eyebrow. “Well?”
She blinks, straightening her shoulders. There it is—that look. I know it well. It’s the look people get when they’ve decided to take the deal, when they’ve convinced themselves it’s the right move.
Still, I wait for her to say it.
Annie takes a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the notebook. “Yes,” she says finally. “I’ll do it. I’ll be Robbie’s nanny.”
“Good,” I say, leaning forward slightly. “Pack your desk up and be at the house first thing tomorrow morning.”
Her eyes widen, and she looks completely bowled over. “Now? Right now? You want me to start tomorrow morning?”
“Yes,” I reply matter-of-factly. “Will that be a problem?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again, clearly trying to find the right words. “Well... it’s nearly five o’clock. I can’t pack up my life in one night. I can’t even pack up my desk before the end of the day.”
I fight the urge to smile at her harassed expression. There’s something endearing about how flustered she looks, but I suppress it. Instead, I adopt a brusque tone. “Your desk will be packed by the time you get back downstairs.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Someone’s packing my desk? What if I had said no?”
I don’t bother answering that.
“You don’t have to be fully moved in by tomorrow morning,” I continue, ignoring her incredulous tone. “Pack a bag tonight. We’ll have movers pack up the rest from your apartment, or you can take the weekend to do it yourself, and the movers will transport it. Your choice.”
She takes a step back, her blue eyes wide and flustered. “I’d rather do it myself,” she says quickly.
I nod once. “Fine.”
There’s a beat of silence as she processes everything.
“Remember,” I say, turning back to my computer, “7:00 a.m. tomorrow. You’ll be introduced to Ellis and the rest of the staff and take Robbie to school. Ellis will accompany you.”
I sense her hesitation, the faint shuffling of her shoes against the carpet.
“Well, okay,” she says eventually, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I guess I’ll see you then.”
“I won’t be there,” I reply without looking up. “But Evelyn will be.”
“Oh.” There’s a pause, then she adds, “Thank you for the opportunity. Um... bye.”
I glance up just in time to see her heading for the door. My gaze lingers for a moment, trailing over her curvy hips and long legs in that pencil skirt. It’s not intentional—it just happens. And I feel my body respond as my pants tighten a bit uncomfortably.
Snapping my attention back to the computer, I suppress the urge to scowl at myself.
This is business, I remind myself. Strictly business.