21. Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty One
Cole
Virginia’s calm, measured voice fills the otherwise quiet space of my home office as her voice comes over the phone. I lean back in my leather chair and listen as she efficiently goes over my schedule for the rest of the day.
Working from home always made things a bit more difficult, but Virginia had the routine down to a science.
“And your virtual meeting with Mr. Patel is scheduled in thirty minutes. It’s flagged as high priority,” she says, her tone professional and clipped as always.
“Got it,” I reply, jotting a quick note in my planner. “Anything else on the agenda for today?”
“Yes,” she says without missing a beat. “I wanted to remind you about the annual gala. It’s coming up in two weeks, so we’ll need to finalize catering, entertainment, and the guest list this week. I’ve already reached out to the usual vendors, but I’ll need your input on the finer details.”
The gala. Of course. The massive formal party I throw every year for my investors and key connections. It’s not something I look forward to, but it’s a necessary evil in maintaining my network. “Understood. Send me a list of what needs my attention, and I’ll get to it. ”
“I’ll have it to you by the end of the day,” she assures me. “I will go ahead and tell the party planner to coordinate with Ellis on when her team can be at the house to prepare.”
“Very good,” I say.”
“Will you need anything else, Mr. Wagner?”
“No, thank you, Virginia,” I say.
“Very well. I’ll confirm your attendance for the Patel meeting and patch you in when the time comes.” With that, the call ends, and I set my phone down on the desk.
The work feels rather chaotic today, which is unlike the way I usually work. It’s a result of spending the afternoon catching up on work after missing the morning and most of the day before. My laptop screen glows with spreadsheets and email threads, but my focus keeps drifting.
Annie.
I’ve been here all morning, intent on staying close to home so I can keep an eye on her after this morning. Not that she’s needed it. She’s spent most of her time planning Robbie’s pool party and reading, her face calm and composed every time I checked in discreetly. Still, the worry lingers that her mood could fall again.
The thought of Robbie’s pool party draws my attention. It’s such a simple idea, yet it’s never happened before. The realization sits uncomfortably in my chest.
How is it that I didn’t even know Robbie had friends to invite over?
I frown, leaning back in my chair as the thought rolls over me. Robbie has always been shy, but maybe that’s just how he is around me. At school, around other kids, maybe he’s different—more outgoing, more himself.
The possibility is comforting and unsettling. Comforting because it means he’s not as isolated as I’d feared. Unsettling because it reminds me of how much I still don’t know about him.
I shake my head, and my eyes land on the framed photo of Robin and Robbie on the mantle.
Robin was the outgoing one, the life of every party we ever attended. Where I preferred quiet conversations and work-related discussions, Robin thrived on laughter and connection. She could make anyone feel at ease, her bubbly energy contagious. People gravitated toward her.
The annual gala I throw at my home was always a lot easier with Robin around. Though I’m successful and connections are a huge part of that success, I tend to focus on the work rather than any purely personal discussions. Talking about my favorite book or movie or hobbies—not that I had time for any—isn’t exactly in my repertoire. That was always Robin’s territory.
I stare at the photo a little longer, the memories stirring something bittersweet in me. Annie reminds me of her in some ways. Not in every aspect—Annie’s a little more reserved, more intimidated by me .
But there’s a warmth to her, a genuine kindness that draws people in. She’s quick to smile, quick to engage, and though she’s not as outspoken as Robin—though she certainly does when she needs to—there’s a quiet strength in her that’s undeniable.
It makes me wonder how she’ll handle the gala.
The thought takes me by surprise, and I realize with a jolt that I haven’t mentioned the event to her. Maybe someone else has—Evelyn or Ellis—but I doubt it. And even if they had, they wouldn’t have told her she’s a guest.
I make a mental note to talk to her about it. She’ll need to know what to expect—how formal it is, who’ll be there, her role as more than just the nanny.
She’ll need to understand that this isn’t just a party; it’s a calculated display of power and connection. And while Evelyn and Ellis will be working the event, Annie won’t be. She deserves to enjoy the evening.
I glance back at the screen, the numbers and figures blurring as my mind drifts again. There’s a lot to prepare for—the gala, the pool party, keeping my professional and personal lives from colliding too violently and affecting Robbie.
And somewhere in the middle of it all is Annie.