14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Annie
The slam of the door echoes in my ears as I rush down the hallway, my breathing shallow and erratic. My heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s trying to escape my chest. I don’t stop moving, my legs carrying me on autopilot as I weave through the maze of corridors until I’m outside.
The air outside is cool and damp against my face, but I barely feel it as I run. My chest heaves, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The roar of blood rushing in my ears drowns out everything else—everything but the black edging my vision, threatening to close in completely. I don’t know where I’m going; I just know I have to get away. Away from the house, away from Cole, away from what I’ve just done.
I push through the backyard, past the manicured gardens, until I find a building of some sort tucked near the edge of the property. My hand fumbles on the door handle before I shove it open, stumbling inside and slamming it shut behind me. I lean back against the door, trying to catch my breath, but the panic only tightens its grip.
I can’t believe I did that.
I press my hands to my face, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts from crashing down on me like waves. The confrontation with Cole replays in my mind on a relentless loop—my raised voice, his anger, the things we both said. And then his words, sharp and angry: You’re fired.
My stomach churns violently, and I double over, gasping for air. He said he wasn’t firing me—now. But what about later? When he’s had time to think? There’s no way he’s going to keep me around after this. No one stands up to Cole Wagner like that and keeps her job.
I was stupid. So, so stupid.
Tears sting my eyes as I slide down and my knees hit the floor. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely wipe my face. What am I going to do if he fires me? I don’t have an apartment to go back to. I don’t have another job lined up. I’ll have nothing.
What was I thinking? How could I let it get that far? My stomach revolts, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
I had no right to speak to him like that. He’s my boss. What the hell am I going to do?
My breath hitches as the panic tightens its grip. My breathing is unsteady and erratic, the scent of chlorine faint but distinct. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
When I walked into his office, I wasn’t planning on yelling at him. I wasn’t planning on pushing him like that. But the moment I saw him sitting there, calm and dismissive, my anger exploded.
The walls feel like they’re closing in, the room too small, the air too thick.
It was like I became someone else entirely.
My vision blurs as the edges go dark, my chest tightening to the point of pain.
It’s all too much.
Something cold touches my wrist, and I jerk.
The shock is enough to snap me out of the downward spiral, and my eyes fly open.
Ellis is crouched in front of me, his expression calm, and his gray eyes steady as they meet mine.
“Breathe,” he says, his tone brisk but not unkind. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slowly.”
I nod weakly, trying to follow his instructions. My breaths come in shaky gasps at first, but with each inhale, the black around my vision recedes.
“That’s it,” he says after a moment, his voice softer now. “Just keep going.”
It’s a while before my breathing evens out, but when it does, my body starts to tremble.
Ellis pulls back a bit and takes my hand, supporting my arm as he helps me stand.
“Come on. Let’s get you off the floor.” I grip his hand, surprised by how steady it feels against my trembling fingers. He helps me to my feet and leads me to a small couch against the wall.
“Hold this here,” he says, putting the cold cloth back on my wrist. I realize then that it’s a towel wrapped around ice.
Once I’m seated and he’s made sure I’m still holding it to my wrist, he walks away but not very far. There’s a kitchen on the far side of the surprisingly big room.
As I sit there, my surroundings start to come into focus for the first time. The space is sleek and modern, with clean lines and neutral tones. There’s a small kitchen tucked into one corner, a plush sectional couch, and large windows that let in the sunlight.
It hits me all at once—this is the pool house.
The room is calming in its simplicity. The neutral tones of the decor—white walls, taupe furniture, and accents of deep gray—are sleek but not overly modern. It’s not a space I’ve ever been in before, and the faint scent of chlorine in the air reminds me of the pool just beyond the wide glass doors.
I stare at the plush sectional couch across from me, my eyes tracing the careful arrangement of soft throw pillows, their crisp corners untouched by time. The pool house is immaculate, almost sterile in its perfection.
It occurs to me that Ellis might already have been in here. Hell, maybe he lives here. Truth is, I don’t know where his rooms are yet, so I might’ve crashed right into his living room.
Ellis walks back toward me, a glass of water in hand. He offers it without a word, and I take it, my fingers brushing his briefly. The glass is cool against my skin, the condensation dripping slightly onto my palm.
“Drink,” he says, holding it out to me.
I take the glass and sip it slowly, the cool liquid wetting my dry throat grounding me the way the cold towel had.
“Thanks,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.
He sits down across from me, leaning back with his arms crossed. His gray eyes are sharp, taking in every detail, and for the first time, I wonder what he’s thinking.
“I didn’t mean to crash in here,” I say after a long pause. “I just needed to get out of there and wasn’t really thinking.”
Ellis tilts his head slightly, studying me. “I figured as much.”
“Do you… live here?” I ask hesitantly, glancing around the room again. It feels personal in a way, like someone’s private retreat.
His lips twitch, a faint smirk breaking his otherwise serious demeanor. “No, I don’t live here. I have rooms in the main house.”
The small curve of his lips shocks me. He’s always been civil, but I get the impression he doesn’t like me that much. On principle, I guess.
I frown, trying to piece together how he found me. “Then… how did you—?”
“You ran right past me on your way out,” he says.
I blink, the memory of my flight from the house coming back in fragments. “I don’t remember seeing you.”
“You were a little preoccupied,” he says dryly.
Heat floods my face, and I think about how loud we were yelling. Had Ellis heard what we were saying? I lower my gaze, embarrassed.
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” I admit, my voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to… lose it like that. I just…” My words falter, and I trail off, unsure how to explain myself.
“You were upset,” he says simply, as if that explains everything.
“That’s no excuse,” I say quickly, gripping the glass in my hands. “I shouldn’t have yelled at him like that.”
Ellis raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “But you did.”
“I wasn’t planning on it, I swear. I went in there just to talk to him,” I murmur.
Ellis raises a brow, his expression unreadable. “You sure did talk to him.”
I wince, the memory of my outburst hitting me all over again.
He doesn’t respond right away, studying me with a critical eye. Finally, he speaks. “Mr. Wagner isn’t used to being challenged. Especially not like that. ”
“He was just so…” I shake my head, not sure how to put the frustration into words. “I don’t know. I just… I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. I know I overstepped. I know I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and— And now he’s probably going to fire me.”
My stomach sinks, and the nausea swims sickeningly in my stomach.
Ellis shifts, leaning forward slightly. “He’s not going to fire you.”
I glance up at him, startled by his certainty. “You don’t know that.”
“Mr. Wagner isn’t as ruthless as people think. He isn’t going to fire you for standing up for his son,” he says matter-of-factly. “Because he knows you’re right.”
The words hit me like a jolt, but I can’t bring myself to believe them.
“So you heard everything, huh?” I ask, my voice trembling again.
“I think everyone within a mile radius heard you two,” he says in that same even tone.
I bury my face in my hands, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over me. “God, I’m so sorry. That wasn’t me. I don’t yell like that. I don’t—”
“You shouldn’t be,” he says after a moment. “You told him the truth.”
I shake my head, disbelief coloring my voice. “The truth isn’t always what people want to hear. Especially not Cole Wagner.”
“No,” Ellis agrees. “But sometimes, it’s exactly what they need to hear. You did what no one else has had the guts to do in a long time. Even me.”
I blink at him, my mind struggling to process his words. After a moment, I slowly say, “I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I don’t dislike you,” he says simply. “But I admit I was skeptical at first. You’re young, and this family doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to caregivers. But I’ve seen the way you are with Robbie. You care about him. That’s more than I can say for most people who’ve come through here.”
The lump in my throat grows, and I look down at my hands. “I don’t know if it matters. Cole’s furious.”
“Mr. Wagner’s a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. He knows you’re good for Robbie, even if he won’t admit it.”
His words ignite a little spark of hope in me, but I don’t dare to indulge it too much. “You really think so?”
“I know so,” he says, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “But that doesn’t mean he’s going to make it easy for you. He’s stubborn, and he doesn’t like being called out—especially not in his own house.”
I let out a shaky laugh, wiping at my eyes. “Yeah, I got that impression.”
Ellis stands, smoothing out his suit. “Give him time. He’ll come around. In the meantime, don’t let him intimidate you. You’ve already done more for that boy in a few weeks than anyone, including his own father, has in years.”
For a moment, I’m shocked at hearing Ellis speak like that about Cole. He’s always been so prim and proper. Mr. Wagner this, Master Robbie that. So formal and loyal.
So, to hear him speak about Cole like that is a surprise—enough even to shock me out of the lingering dredges of my panic attack—because even though I’ve never had one before, I somehow know it couldn’t have been anything else.
“What if he changes his mind? What if he decides I’m more trouble than I’m worth?”
Ellis smirks faintly again. “You’ll just have to prove him wrong, won’t you?”
His words hang in the air between us.
I’m not sure if I believe him, but the surety of his words has dulled the sharp edges of my fear, at least for now. My fingers fidget with the edge of the towel sitting damp on my lap.
A sudden ping breaks the silence. It’s the gate sensor. Ellis pulls his phone from his pocket, his sharp gray eyes flickering over the screen. Almost immediately, a second ping sounds from my pocket.
Ellis glances at me as he straightens. “They’re back. ”
My stomach twists, an immediate rush of panic surging through me. Robbie’s back. I can’t let him see me like this—red-eyed, shaky, and completely unraveled. I glance around the pool house as though looking for an escape, even though I know I’m cornered.
“I can’t—” The words spill out of me, breathless and frantic. “Robbie can’t see me like this. He’ll know something’s wrong.”
Ellis tucks his phone away, his expression calm and composed, as though this is just another day to him. “Then don’t let him see you like this,” he says simply, gesturing toward the couch. “Take a moment. Breathe. He’s just getting back. It’ll be a few minutes before he even makes it inside.”
“But—” I stammer, my words tangling together in a mess of doubt and guilt.
Ellis raises a hand, cutting me off. “I’ll go greet them at the door,” he says firmly. “Take the time you need to collect yourself. There’s no rush. He can manage a few minutes without you.”
His tone doesn’t leave much room for argument. He turns and steps toward the door.
“Ellis?” I call after him, my voice cracking slightly.
He pauses, his hand on the doorknob, and turns back to look at me.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice soft, and I hope sincere.
He nods once. “If you find yourself about to have another panic attack, put something cold on the inside of your wrist or in your palm. Just keep it there until the pressure releases,” he says simply, and then he’s gone. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving me alone in the quiet of the pool house.
I lean back against the couch, my breathing still uneven but slowly calming as the silence wraps around me like a blanket. The realization that Robbie is back—that I’ll have to face him and somehow pretend everything is fine—settles heavily on my chest.
I press the cold towel to my wrist again, though the ice is nearly melted by now, willing myself to focus on the sensation. Inhale, exhale. One breath at a time. I can do this. I have to do this.
As much as I want to disappear, I remind myself why I’m here in the first place. Robbie. He’s the reason I stayed after that fight, the reason I didn’t pack up and leave the moment Cole yelled that I was fired. Because that little boy needs someone in his corner, someone who won’t give up on him.
And right now, that someone is me.
The thought steadies me, even as tears threaten to sting my eyes again. I squeeze them shut, taking one more deep breath before finally pushing myself to stand.
Robbie’s back, and it’s time to face the day. But just for now, I’ll look for a bathroom and take these last few moments to regroup. Then I’ll go to him, and I’ll be the person he needs me to be. The person I promised myself I’d be when I took this job.
***
The moment I step out of the pool house, the cool, almost evening air brushes against my skin, and I pause, drawing in a long, steadying breath. My heart still beats a little too fast, but the sharp edges of panic have dulled, replaced by a nervous energy that hums through me.
I smooth my hands over my shirt, trying to shake off the lingering tension as I make my way toward the main house.
The backyard is still and quiet, the only sound coming from the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. The pool is closed, which is why I never spend much time out here.
Well, that has to change, I decide. It’s L.A., for God’s sake. Why the hell is the pool closed? It’ll be hotter than sin soon, and there’s a five-year-old boy—and his nanny—ready to play in the pool.
As I walk up the path, the mansion looms ahead, its sheer size and grandeur a reminder of just how out of place I feel in this world. I’m acutely aware of every step I take, my sneakers brushing softly against the stone of the path.
When I reach the back door, I hesitate for a moment, resting my hand on the cool metal of the handle. I glance down at my clothes—slightly wrinkled from sitting in the pool house—and smooth them down again, hoping it’s not obvious that I just had a full-blown panic attack. My fingers tug at the hem of my shirt, straightening it, and I pull in another breath.
You’ve got this. Just act normal.
The door creaks softly as I open it, stepping into the warmth of the house. The faint sounds of activity filter through the air—pots clattering in the kitchen, the muffled hum of distant conversation, and then a sound that makes me stop in my tracks.
Robbie’s voice.
It’s bright and animated, carrying through the hall with an excitement I don’t hear often. I freeze for a second, the sound washing over me like a balm. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but it’s enough to know he’s happy. For once, I let myself smile. Telling Ellis all about his trip to the grocery store, no doubt.
I move quietly, the polished wood floors cool beneath my feet as I walk through the hallway. The voices grow clearer, guiding me toward the source. I pause when I reach the foyer, my hand brushing the smooth wood of the staircase as I glance around. The sound isn’t coming from the foyer, as I expected—it’s coming from the sitting room just off to the side.
I take a step closer, careful not to make too much noise, and peek around the corner.
Robbie is perched on the edge of one of the armchairs, his little hands waving animatedly as he talks. He’s facing away from me, so I can’t see his face, but I imagine it’s lit up with enthusiasm, his hazel eyes sparkling in a way that they don’t often enough.
It takes me a moment to register who he’s talking to, but when I do, my stomach flips.
Cole is sitting across from him, his posture relaxed but his attention fully on Robbie. Just the way I said. No laptop, no phone, just him.
He’s leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, and there’s a faint smile on his lips as he listens. It’s a softer expression than I’ve ever seen from him, and it catches me off guard.
I hover in the doorway, watching the scene unfold like an outsider peering into a life that isn’t mine.
Robbie is talking a mile a minute, his words tumbling over each other as he recounts the details of their grocery trip.
“And then Evelyn said I could pick out my own cereal, but I didn’t know which one to get, so she said I could get two!” Robbie’s voice is breathless with excitement. “And there were so many! Did you know there’s a cereal with dinosaurs on it, Dad? Real dinosaurs!”
Cole nods, his smile widening just enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I didn’t know that. Did you get it?”
“Yeah! Evelyn said it’s okay as long as I don’t eat too much sugar,” Robbie says, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “But I think she only said that because she didn’t want me to get three cereals.”
Cole chuckles, a soft, genuine sound that makes something in my chest ache. “Sounds like a smart rule.”
Robbie grins, clearly pleased with himself, and launches into another story about the grocery store. I shift my weight, feeling like an intruder even though neither of them has noticed me yet. Usually, I’d clear my throat or step into the room to announce myself, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Not now.
Evelyn must already be in the kitchen, and Ellis is nowhere to be seen. For a moment, it’s just the two of them—father and son—and I can’t bring myself to interrupt.
I must make a small sound, though, as I step back because Cole’s gaze flicks up, locking with mine. For a second, my breath catches.
His green eyes are calm, very different than the anger I’d seen in them earlier. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even change his expression, but there’s a subtle acknowledgment in his gaze, a silent understanding.
I nod once, a small gesture, before I step back and turn toward the hallway.
Robbie is still talking, oblivious to the exchange, and so very excited to be telling his dad about his trip to the store.
My heart is still racing, but this time, it’s not from panic. It’s something else entirely—something I can’t quite name.
As I make my way up the steps, the faint sound of Robbie’s laughter follows me, light and unburdened. It’s a sound I’ll carry with me for the rest of the day, a reminder of why I’m still here.