42. Chapter Forty Two
Chapter Forty Two
Annie
I take a slow breath, smoothing my hands down the front of my dress.
I made this.
The fabric is sleek, draping over my body in all the right ways—elegant but not over-the-top.
The deep purple sets off my skin tone, and the design is understated yet sophisticated. It’s the kind of dress I’d dreamed of wearing on a night like this, the kind of thing I used to sketch in my notebook back when fashion design was just a pipe dream.
And now, here I am. Wearing my own creation. About to go on my first official date with Cole.
Cole Freakin’ Wagner.
And I feel like I’m going to throw up.
It’s not the dress. The dress is perfect. It’s everything else.
The fact that no one knows about us. The fact that stepping out in public together for the first time is going to be a big deal. The fact that Cole Wagner isn’t just anyone—he’s a known name in this city, and people pay attention to what he does.
I wasn’t nervous before. When we were still on the island, when it was just us, it felt easier. Private. But this?
This is real.
I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn just as Cole steps into the doorway.
And my breath catches.
He’s wearing a dark suit, the tailored fit making him look even taller, even more commanding. His hair is styled back, just slightly tousled, and his green eyes land on me with a sharp intensity that makes my stomach tighten.
His gaze sweeps over me, slow and deliberate, and then he exhales.
“Jesus, Annie.” His voice is lower, rougher than usual. “You look…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Stunning.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, easing some of the nerves.
“Thank you.” I glance down at myself, running my fingers over the fabric again. “I, uh… I made this.”
Cole tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing in surprise. “You made it?”
I nod, suddenly self-conscious. “ Yeah. It’s one of my designs.”
For a moment, he just stares at me, and I can’t quite read his expression.
Then, he steps closer. “Annie, this is incredible.”
I blink. “You really think so?”
His gaze drifts over the dress again, his expression thoughtful, impressed. “I know so.” He meets my eyes, and there’s something like admiration in his. “You’re seriously talented.”
Something in my chest tightens. I don’t know why his approval matters so much, but it does.
“Thank you,” I murmur, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
Cole’s lips twitch slightly. “You nervous?”
I exhale, shaking my head. “Nope. Not at all.”
His brow lifts, clearly not buying it.
I sigh. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”
His fingers brush against my arm, grounding me. “It’s just dinner, Annie.”
“Yeah, dinner with the most well-known businessman in this city,” I mutter. “Which means people are going to stare. They’re going to talk.”
Cole’s expression darkens slightly. “Let them.”
Easy for him to say. He’s used to it. Me? Not so much.
And if people start putting two and two together and figure out I’m pregnant—
No. One thing at a time.
I force a smile. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Cole smirks. “That’s the spirit.”
He steps back, offering me his arm, and I roll my eyes but take it.
We step out into the hallway, and that’s when I see Ellis standing near the entrance, waiting.
Right. The staff knows now.
And suddenly, things are… weird.
Ellis has been treating me differently since we told him and Evelyn about the pregnancy. Not in a bad way—just more formally. Like he doesn’t quite know how to act around me anymore. Like he’s suddenly taken a step back.
I hate it.
I just want things to go back to normal.
“Your car is ready, sir,” Ellis says, his voice as professional as ever.
Cole nods. “Thank you.”
Ellis glances at me, and for a split second, I catch the hesitation in his eyes before he gives me a polite nod. “Miss Fox.”
I grimace. Sure, he always called me that, but it just seems so much more formal now.
“Ellis,” I say, forcing a small smile.
His nod is stiff, and then he turns to open the door.
I barely have time to process the awkwardness before I hear another voice from the kitchen.
“Are you two leaving already?”
I turn to see Evelyn standing near the doorway, wiping her hands on a towel. Her sharp brown eyes land on me first, scanning me from head to toe before she gives an approving nod.
“Well, don’t you clean up nice,” she says, smirking slightly.
“Thank you.”
Evelyn glances at Cole, then back at me. “You sure you’re up for this, hon?”
I sigh. “I’m fine, Evelyn.”
She raises a brow, unconvinced. “Mmm.”
Cole shifts beside me. “She’ll be fine,” he says smoothly, resting a hand at the small of my back. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I glance up at him, surprised by the subtle protectiveness in his tone.
Evelyn makes a humming sound. “Good. ”
She turns back toward the kitchen, and Ellis steps aside as Cole leads me toward the door.
But the moment we step outside, I exhale sharply.
Cole glances down at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “It’s just… weird.”
He studies me for a moment before sighing. “They just need time to adjust.”
I know that. But it doesn’t make it any less awkward.
At least Robbie is at a friend’s house tonight, so we avoided that awkwardness.
Cole squeezes my waist. “It’ll be fine.”
I nod, trying to push the thoughts away as we reach the car.
Cole opens the door for me, and as I slide in, I feel some of the tension ease.
It’s just dinner.
Just one night.
I can do this.
***
The restaurant is beautiful. Elegant. The kind of place where the chandeliers are massive, the wait staff moves with smooth efficiency, and the menu doesn’t list prices because if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.
It’s also exactly the kind of place that makes me feel completely out of my element.
I take a slow breath, smoothing my napkin over my lap as I glance around. Everything is soft lighting and polished silverware, the murmur of conversation blending with the gentle sound of classical music from the corner of the room where a violinist plays. The atmosphere is refined, exclusive.
And people are watching us.
Or, more accurately, watching Cole and the woman he’s on a date with.
I should’ve expected this. Of course, people would notice when Cole Wagner walks into a place like this with a date.
He’s someone in this city—someone important, someone well-known. And now, apparently, I’m someone worth staring at too.
Wait until they figure out I’m the nanny.
I pick up my water glass and take a sip, trying to ignore the way whispers follow us even from across the room. I tell myself I’m being paranoid.
But I know I’m not.
Cole, on the other hand, seems entirely unaffected .
He looks completely at ease, sitting across from me, his suit crisp, his green eyes sharp as he studies the menu.
His fingers drum idly against the table as he glances over the options, like he doesn’t have a single concern in the world.
I wish I could say the same.
“This is nice, isn’t it?” Cole asks, finally looking up at me.
I swallow. “Yeah.”
His lips twitch slightly. “You don’t sound convinced.”
I shake my head quickly. “No, it’s great. The place is beautiful. The food smells amazing.”
His brow lifts slightly, his gaze knowing. “And yet?”
I exhale, glancing away briefly before finally admitting in a low voice, “People are staring.”
Cole leans back in his chair, seemingly unimpressed. “Let them.”
Easy for him to say. He’s used to this.
I, on the other hand, am not.
I shift in my seat. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
“No.” His response is immediate, confident. “People always talk, Annie. The key is not giving a damn.”
I huff out a laugh. “Oh, well, that’s easy then. I’ll just magically stop caring.”
Cole smirks. “Exactly.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips.
A server appears at our table, and I use the distraction to refocus.
Cole orders crab stuffed mushrooms and bruschetta to start, Beef Wellington, rare, and a glass of Old Rip Van Winkle bourbon.
I go for the lobster pasta dish I spotted earlier on the menu and stick with sparkling water , though the server does offer me a wine list. I hesitate for a split second before declining. Cole doesn’t comment, but his eyes flick to me briefly.
As the server disappears, I clear my throat, suddenly feeling the need to fill the silence. “So, do you come here a lot?”
Cole shakes his head. “Not really. I have business dinners here sometimes, but it’s not exactly a regular spot for me.”
I arch a brow. “Oh? And where do you usually take your dates?”
His lips curve into something almost smug. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but before I can respond, our appetizers—excuse me, starters— and Cole’s drink arrive.
After that, we’re too busy tasting and snacking. I have to compose myself in a public place and not devour the whole plate of bruschetta all by myself .
Then our food arrives, and oh, wow.
I take one bite of my pasta and nearly groan. It’s perfect. Rich, creamy, and decadent.
Cole watches me, amusement flickering in his eyes as he cuts into his Beef Wellington. “Good?”
I nod enthusiastically, already taking another bite. “Incredible.”
His smirk deepens. “Glad to hear it.”
For a little while, I forget about the people watching us. Forget about the whispers. I focus on the food, the conversation, and the way Cole’s attention never seems to stray far from me.
But it doesn’t last.
I catch movement from the corner of my eye, and when I glance at another table.
Someone has their phone out and is pointing it right at us.
Great.
I set my fork down, suddenly losing my appetite.
Cole frowns when he sees. “What’s wrong? Do you not like it??
“It’s good,” I say, trying to focus on my plate.
“Annie, what’s wrong?” Cole says, concerned.
“We’re being photographed.” I tilt my head to the side.
Cole looks in that direction, and to my surprise, he doesn’t seem the least bit surprised.
He exhales slowly, then reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He taps out a quick message—who he’s texting, I have no idea—before looking back up at me.
“How do you feel about getting out of here?”
I blink. “What?”
He leans forward slightly. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“But—” I glance down at my plate. “We’re not done eating.”
His smirk is knowing. “You can take it to go.”
I hesitate, but when I spot someone else with a phone camera facing us, I don’t think twice.
“Okay,” I say, setting my napkin down. “Let’s go.”
Cole flags down the server, arranges for our food to be packed up, and then, within minutes, he’s leading me toward the back of the restaurant.
Away from the paparazzi parked out front.
Away from prying eyes.
And I have no idea what he has planned next.