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“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 Robbiehad 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.
Chapter Twenty Two
Annie
The warm circle of light caused by the glow of my bedside lamp breaks as I pace back and forth, wringing my hands. My feet sink slightly into the plush rug with each step, but it barely registers. My mind is racing, and no matter how much I tell myself to stop, I can’t seem to calm down.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. It’s almost eleven. Robbie has been asleep for hours, his small body curled up under the covers after an evening of excitement with his dad. My chest tightens a little at the thought of Cole.
Will he come to my room tonight?
The thought sends an involuntary shiver through me, one I’m not sure is more from anticipation or dread. Not that Cole has given me any indication he plans to. He’d been the perfect picture of normalcy at dinner—attentive to Robbie, even engaging me in conversation. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought everything between us was perfectly ordinary.
But nothing about this is ordinary.
I stop pacing long enough to sit on the edge of my bed, only to stand up again almost immediately. My nerves won’t letme relax. “Just go to sleep, Annie,” I mutter under my breath, rubbing my temples. “He’s probably busy. Or working. Or—” My words cut off abruptly, my thoughts veering in a new direction.
The gala.
Cole had mentioned it so casually at dinner, like it was just another event on the calendar. “Two weeks from now,” he’d said in that calm, matter-of-fact tone of his. “It’s formal, and you’re invited.”
Invited. To a gala. At his house.