12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
Annie
The restaurant is bustling with laughter, clinking plates, and murmured conversations. Sunshine streams through the large windows, reflecting off the polished wood tables and the colorful mosaic floor.
Noah and I sit at a small table near the window, his familiar, easy smile making me feel a little less guilty about indulging in a day off.
It feels good to finally spend time with my oldest friend. Noah and I have known each other since elementary school, and though we both have busy work schedules, we’ve always made an effort to stay close. Still, it’s been weeks since our last real catch-up, and I’m nervous about what he’ll think when I tell him about my new job.
Hell, he doesn’t even know I’ve moved into their home.
He looks the same as ever—casual yet put-together in a blue button-down shirt and dark jeans, his dark blond hair perfectly styled, though he’d deny he spends any time on it. His blue eyes are sharp and lively, darting between me and his plate as he cuts into a piece of grilled chicken.
“So, how’s life at the big, fancy firm?” I ask, twirling a forkful of salad. “You’re all busy and important now, huh? ”
Noah snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. I’m just a glorified paper-pusher in a slightly nicer office than the last one.”
“Come on, give yourself some credit,” I say, smiling. “You’ve worked your ass off for this.”
He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I have. And I have to admit that this job is better than the other one. It’s decent—good pay, less soul-sucking than the old marketing firm.”
“Less soul-sucking?” I arch a brow. “Wow. High praise.”
“Hey, in this economy, I’ll take what I can get,” he says, raising his iced tea like a toast. “But enough about me. How are you holding up? It’s been, what, a month?”
“Maybe longer,” I correct him, cringing slightly. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go MIA. It’s just been... hectic.”
He waves me off. “I get it. Adulting is hard. But you know you can call me, right? I’m not that busy and important.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I know, I know. I’ll do better, I promise. So, how’s the apartment? Still dealing with the world’s most annoying upstairs neighbors?”
“Oh, they’re gone,” he says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “But get this—new ones moved in, and they have three dogs.”
“No!” I gasp, covering my mouth to stifle a laugh. “How are you surviving? ”
“Barely,” he says with mock seriousness. “They’re cute dogs, but they bark at everything. Leaves, mail carriers, the wind. It’s like living in a kennel.”
“You’re too nice,” I say, shaking my head. “I’d have filed a noise complaint by now.”
He shrugs, grinning. “I’m thinking about it. But let’s not waste precious lunch time on my dog drama. What about you? Last time we talked, you were working reception at... uh, what was it?”
“Silver Screen Studios,” I say, setting my fork down. “And yeah, I was. But things... changed.”
“Oh?” He tilts his head, intrigued. “What happened? Did you quit? Fired?”
“Well...” I trail off, glancing out the window before meeting his curious gaze. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” he says, gesturing around the restaurant. “Enlighten me.”
I sigh, resting my chin in my hand. “Okay, so you remember how I said my boss was super intimidating?”
“Yeah, the billionaire guy,” he says. “Wagner, right?”
“Cole Wagner,” I confirm. “Yeah, so... his nanny quit out of nowhere, and he was in a bind. One thing led to another, and now I’m… a nanny.”
His jaw drops slightly. “Wait, what? You’re a nanny now?”
“Temporarily,” I say quickly, holding up a hand. “I think.”
“What do you mean, you think?”
“Well,” I say, unsure how to word it. “I moved into his house.”
Noah’s fork freezes halfway to his mouth, his blue eyes going wide. “You what?”
“I know how it sounds,” I say quickly, holding up my hands. “It’s not like that. I moved in to take care of Robbie—his son. It’s just more practical since I’m with him full-time.”
Noah sets his fork down slowly, leaning back in his chair. “So, let me get this straight. You’re living in some billionaire’s mansion, taking care of his kid, and you’re calling it temporary? And you never thought to call me?”
“Yes,” I say firmly, though the word feels shaky even as it leaves my lips. “And no. It was supposed to be temporary until he found someone else, but…”
“But what?” Noah presses, folding his arms across his chest.
“But I guess I’m doing okay at it,” I admit, my voice softening. “Robbie seems to like me, and I’ve kind of gotten used to the routine.”
Noah’s brows knit together as he studies me. “And what about him? What’s it like living under the same roof as Mr. Billionaire?”
I hesitate, stabbing at a cherry tomato on my plate. “It’s... fine. He works a lot, so we don’t cross paths much.”
“Uh-huh,” Noah says, his tone laced with skepticism. “And when you do?”
I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “He’s fine. Intense, but fine.”
“Intense how?”
I shrug, avoiding his gaze. “Just... focused. He’s the kind of guy who’s always in control, you know? Always thinking ten steps ahead. It can be a little intimidating, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Noah’s lips twitch like he’s suppressing a grin. “You sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Because,” he says, leaning forward with an amused glint in his eyes. “You’re talking about him like he’s this big, scary boss, but I can tell there’s more to it. I know you, Annie Fox, remember that.”
“There’s nothing more to it,” I insist, though my cheeks betray me by flushing.
“Oh, there definitely is,” he says, laughing. “Come on, Annie. You’re living in his mansion, taking care of his kid. You’re basically part of the guy’s life now.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” I say, shaking my head.
“Is it?” he teases, wagging a finger at me. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re blushing right now. ”
“I am not,” I say, though I can feel the heat rising in my face. “Please, he’s barely a part of his life. He’s too busy and rich and important. He doesn’t spend much time with Robbie, which is a shame because the kid adores him.”
“Sounds like someone’s got opinions,” Noah teases, grinning.
I shrug, fighting a smile. “I mean, wouldn’t you? If you had a kid, wouldn’t you want to spend every minute with him?”
Noah’s face drops at that.
I’m horrified. “I’m sorry, Noah. I didn’t mean to…”
But Noah is shaking his head. “No, it’s all right. I know what you mean. Listen, my dad didn’t want to be with us, so he’s not. I’m over it.”
I’m not entirely sure that’s true, but I reach across the table and place a hand over Noah’s, giving it a gentle squeeze. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.”
He shrugs, offering me a weak smile. “It is what it is. Not everyone’s cut out to be a parent, I guess.”
I watch him for a moment, my chest tightening. Noah’s always been good at brushing off the hard stuff, pretending it doesn’t bother him, but I know better. We’ve been through too much together for me not to see through his act.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, my voice soft.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he says, pulling his hand away to pick up his iced tea.
“Besides, this isn’t about me. We’re talking about your boss, remember? The one who’s apparently not winning any ‘Dad of the Year’ awards. At least mine didn’t hang around and pretend, unlike this Wagner guy.”
I sit back, letting the shift in conversation happen. If he wants to deflect, I’ll let him—for now. “It’s not that bad. I wasn’t trying to be mean. I just think... he could try harder, you know? Robbie’s such a sweet kid. He deserves someone who’s present.”
Noah tilts his head, studying me. “You really care about this kid, huh?”
I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, I do. He’s amazing. He’s so smart and thoughtful, and when he opens up, he’s hilarious. He just needs someone to see him, you know?”
“And you’re that someone,” Noah says, his tone warm.
I shrug, feeling a little self-conscious. “I’m trying to be. He deserves that.”
Noah leans forward, his blue eyes serious now. “Don’t sell yourself short, Annie. You’re not just trying. You’re doing it. And from what it sounds like, you’re exactly what that kid needs.”
His words catch me off guard, and I feel my throat tighten. “Thanks, Noah. That... means a lot.”
He waves a hand, brushing off the sentiment. “Hey, it’s the truth. You’ve always had a way of making people feel safe. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”
I smile, feeling a little choked up. Noah’s always been my rock, my safe place, and hearing him say that reminds me why.
Before I can respond, though, he grins and says, “So, how’s the mansion? You living the high life now or what?”
I laugh, grateful for the lighter turn. “Hardly. It’s beautiful, sure, but it doesn’t feel like home, you know? It’s so big and... kinda cold.”
“Cold?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow.
“Not temperature-wise,” I clarify, shaking my head. “Just... impersonal. Like it’s more for show than for living. Robbie’s room is the only place that feels warm. Everywhere else is just... marble and perfection.”
Noah chuckles. “Sounds like a billionaire’s house, all right. So, no secret passages or hidden treasures?”
“Not that I’ve found,” I say with a grin. “But I’ll let you know if I stumble across a vault or something.”
He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “You’d better. I want a cut of the treasure.”
I roll my eyes, taking a sip of water. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but you love me for it,” he says, his tone teasing.
I laugh, nodding. “That I do.”
For a moment, we sit in comfortable silence, the noise of the restaurant filling the space between us. It feels good to just... be here, catching up with Noah like old times.
“So,” he says, breaking the silence. “How’s it been living with him? The boss, I mean.”
I hesitate, fiddling with my napkin. “It’s... fine. Like I said, we don’t see each other much.”
“But when you do?” he presses, his eyes narrowing playfully.
“It’s professional,” I say firmly, though my cheeks heat at the memory of the other night.
“Uh-huh,” Noah says, clearly not buying it. “You sure about that?”
“Yes,” I say, my tone sharp enough to make him laugh. “Let’s talk about something else now.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll stop. For now.”
“Good,” I say, glaring at him, though there’s no heat behind it.
Noah shakes his head, still grinning. “You’re too easy to mess with, Annie. But seriously, if this guy gives you any trouble, you let me know, okay? I’ll take care of him.”
I laugh, the mental image of Noah squaring off with Cole too ridiculous to take seriously. “I’ll keep that in mind. ”
“Good,” he says, his tone teasing but his eyes serious. “Because I’ve got your back, no matter what.”
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tighten again, and I nod, my throat too tight to speak.
Then my phone buzzes on the table, and my stomach tightens when I see Cole’s name on the screen.
“Speak of the devil,” Noah quips as I pick up the phone.
“Hello?” I answer, trying to sound normal.
“Annie,” Cole’s voice is brisk, cutting straight to the point. “I need you to pick up Robbie.”
“What?” I say, confused. “What’s going on?”
“There’s a work emergency,” he says, his tone clipped. “I’ve left him at the museum’s childcare center, but I need you to get there now.”
“But—”
“Now, Annie,” he says sharply, cutting me off.
The line goes dead before I can say another word.
I lower the phone slowly, staring at the screen in disbelief.
“What’s wrong?” Noah asks, his brows furrowed.
“I have to go,” I say, grabbing my purse and dropping a few bills on the table. “Robbie’s at the museum, and Cole—he just—” I shake my head, still trying to process. “I have to pick him up.”
Noah stands, tossing some cash on the table. “Wait, what? He just left his kid at the museum?”
“Apparently,” I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Trust me, I know how it sounds.”
“Are you serious?” he asks incredulously, standing to follow me.
“I know,” I say, exasperated. “But I can’t just leave Robbie there.”
Noah snorts, shaking his head as we head for the door. “Apparently, his dad has no problem with it.”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” I mutter, pushing the door open and heading for the parking lot.
Noah keeps pace with me, his expression showing disbelief and concern. “Do you need me to come with you?”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, unlocking my car. “I’ve got it under control.”
He hesitates, clearly torn, but finally nods. “All right. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure everything’s okay.”
“I will.” I give him an apologetic smile as I slide into the driver’s seat. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving me off. “Go save the day, Supernanny. ”
I laugh despite myself and start the car, Noah’s sarcastic tone lingering in my ears as I pull out of the parking lot and head toward the museum.
***
Robbie’s room is bathed in the golden light of his bedside lamp. The soft glow reflects off the pale blue walls decorated with dinosaur decals—T-Rexes, Stegosauruses, and Velociraptors frozen mid-roar. His bookshelves are neatly packed with picture books, adventure stories, and a few chapter books I’ve been encouraging him to try.
I sit on the edge of his bed, waiting as he rummages through a small stack of books on his nightstand. The comforter, patterned with little dinosaurs, is pulled back, ready for him to climb in. Robbie’s brow furrows in concentration as he flips through the pages of one book, then sets it aside to inspect another.
“Take your time, buddy,” I say softly, suppressing a yawn. It’s been a long day, but this is one of my favorite parts—just me and Robbie, winding down together.
Robbie finally picks a book with a triumphant grin. “This one,” he says, holding it up.
“The knight and dragon one again?” I ask with a smile, though I already know the answer.
He nods eagerly. “It’s my favorite.”
“Good choice,” I say, patting the bed. “Hop in, and we’ll get started.”
Robbie climbs onto the bed, his little legs tangling briefly in the comforter before he settles in. But just as I’m about to start reading, he freezes, his hazel eyes wide with panic.
“Rexy!” he cries, sitting up abruptly.
I glance around the room and spot the green stuffed dinosaur sitting on the chair by the window. “He’s over there,” I say, already getting up to retrieve him.
Robbie visibly relaxes, but his hands fidget with the edge of the comforter as I cross the room. Picking up Rexy, I can’t help but smile. The little dinosaur is well-loved, with a slightly faded fabric and a tiny tear near one of his legs.
“Here you go,” I say, handing it over.
Robbie hugs Rexy tightly to his chest, his small fingers stroking the plush fabric. “Thanks, Annie.”
“No problem,” I say, sitting back down. “You really love Rexy, huh?”
He nods, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t sleep without him.”
“Why’s that?” I ask gently, tilting my head.
Robbie hesitates, his fingers still running over Rexy’s back. “He keeps the bad dreams away. ”
My heart tightens at his words. “Do you have bad dreams a lot?”
He shrugs, looking down at the comforter. “Sometimes.”
I pause, unsure how far to push. “Do you want to tell me about them? Maybe it’ll help.”
Robbie hesitates again, but then he nods, his voice small. “Okay.”
I adjust my position, turning to face him fully. “I’m listening.”
He clutches Rexy tighter and takes a shaky breath. “Sometimes... I dream that everyone leaves. Like I’m all by myself, and no one comes back.”
My chest aches at the vulnerability in his voice. “Oh, Robbie,” I say softly. “That sounds really scary.”
He nods, his eyes filling with tears he doesn’t let fall. “I don’t like being alone.”
“You’re never alone,” I say, my voice firm but gentle. “Not really. I’m here. And your dad... even if he’s not around all the time, he’s always thinking about you.”
Robbie doesn’t look convinced, but he nods slightly, pressing his cheek against Rexy’s head.
I stroke his hair, trying to find the right words. “You’re so brave, you know that? And Rexy’s here to help, too. You’re not alone, not ever.”
Robbie relaxes a little at that, his grip on Rexy loosening slightly. “Thanks, Annie.”
“Anytime,” I say, smiling at him. “Now, what do you say we read this story?”
He nods, settling back against the pillows. I open the book and start reading, putting on the voices he loves so much. Robbie giggles when I make the dragon roar, and the sound is like a balm to my aching heart.
We’re halfway through the story when he speaks up quietly, interrupting me mid-sentence.
“Annie?”
I glance at him, surprised. “Yeah, buddy?”
“Why doesn’t Daddy love me?”
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I can’t breathe, let alone respond.
“What?” I finally manage, my voice barely steady. “Of course, he loves you, Robbie. Why would you think he doesn’t?”
Robbie looks down at Rexy, his fingers curling around the plush dinosaur’s tail. “He doesn’t do anything with me. He’s always working. And today... he just left me there.”
Anger flares in my chest, hot and sharp, but I push it down. This isn’t about me or my feelings toward Cole. This is about Robbie .
“Robbie,” I say softly, leaning closer. “Your dad loves you so much. Sometimes adults have to work a lot, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”
Robbie shrugs, not meeting my gaze. “It feels like he doesn’t.”
I want to scream, to march into Cole’s office and demand he explain himself to his son. But I can’t do that. Not now. Not here.
“I know it’s hard,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “And I know it doesn’t always feel like it, but your dad does love you. He just... doesn’t always know how to show it.”
Robbie looks up at me, his hazel eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I say firmly. “He’s not perfect, but he’s trying. And I’ll remind him how important it is to spend time with you, okay?”
Robbie nods slowly, his grip on Rexy relaxing a little. “Okay.”
“Good,” I say, smoothing his hair. “Now, let’s finish this story, huh? I think the knight’s about to save the day.”
Robbie smiles faintly, settling back against the pillows again. I pick up the book and start reading, my heart heavy with unspoken words and anger.
As I read, I glance at him occasionally, watching as his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. By the time I reach the last page, he’s fast asleep, Rexy tucked securely under one arm.
I close the book quietly and set it on the nightstand, then tuck the comforter around him. For a moment, I just sit there, watching him sleep.
“You deserve so much more,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Then I switch off the lamp, tiptoe out of the room, and close the door softly behind me, my heart aching for the little boy who thinks his dad doesn’t love him.