CHAPTER SIX - ETHAN

I had barely returned to the file on my desk when my office door opened without a knock.

There was only one person in this house who had that kind of audacity.

“Do you ever knock?” I asked without looking up.

“Do you ever smile?” Cole shot back, shutting the door behind him. “We all have our struggles, Ethan.”

I continued reading.

He waited a few seconds, probably expecting me to respond. When I didn't, he walked over to the small bar in the corner of my office and helped himself to a drink.

“Your hospitality is terrible, by the way.”

“Then stop coming here.”

“And miss the pleasure of watching you terrorize perfectly innocent people? Never.”

I raised my eyes to him. “Are you done?”

“Not even close.”

Cole took a seat opposite my desk, crossed one leg over the other, and studied me with the kind of irritating curiosity that had made me question our friendship on several occasions.

“So,” he began, “I hear we have a new nanny.”

I returned my attention to the file. “You hear too much.”

“Eight nannies in six months, and now we're on number nine. Forgive me for being interested. At this rate, I should start a recruitment agency just for you. I'll make a fortune.”

“Find a hobby.”

“I'm a doctor. I save lives for a living.”

“Then go save one.”

He laughed, completely unbothered.

That was Cole. You could insult him ten times, and he'd find a way to make it sound as though you'd invited him to dinner.

“So, who is she?” he asked. “Another woman with an impressive résumé and absolutely no common sense?”

“Claire Williams.”

He paused with the glass halfway to his mouth.

“Claire Williams?” he repeated. “The woman who helped the twins yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“The same woman who had no idea who they were?”

I closed the file.

“Is there a reason you're repeating everything I say?”

“I'm trying to make sure I've understood you correctly.” He set his glass down. “You hired a complete stranger to look after your children because she helped them once?”

“She helped them when they needed it. She didn't ask for money, and she didn't attempt to use the situation to get anything from me.”

“Wonderful. Give her a medal. Perhaps a little plaque for the wall, too.”

“Cole.”

“I'm serious.” He leaned forward, his amusement fading just enough for me to recognize the question beneath it. “Does she have any experience? Proper experience, I mean. Not the kind where someone babysat a neighbor's child twice and suddenly considers herself qualified to raise children.”

“No professional qualifications. No formal childcare experience.”

He stared at me.

For once, he seemed to have nothing to say.

I almost enjoyed it.

“I'm sorry,” he said eventually. “I think I may have suffered a temporary hearing problem. Could you repeat that?”

“You heard me.”

“And you still hired her?”

“I did.”

Cole leaned back slowly, looking at me as if I had grown another head.

“Your standards are the reason those women never lasted. You rejected one because she couldn't handle Liam's temper. Another because she allowed Lily to stay up past her bedtime. And wasn't there one you dismissed because she let them have pancakes for dinner?”

“She was supposed to follow the meal plan.”

“They're ten, Ethan. Not soldiers in a military camp.”

“They're my children.”

The words came out sharper than I intended.

Cole's expression changed slightly. He knew better than to make light of that particular subject when I wasn't in the mood.

I glanced at the family photograph on the shelf beside my desk. Lily was grinning at the camera, one arm wrapped around her brother's shoulders. Liam looked as though someone had forced him to be there, which was probably exactly what had happened.

They were different in almost every way. Lily wore her heart on her sleeve. Liam guarded his like it was a family heirloom he couldn't afford to lose.

But they were both my responsibility.

I had no intention of allowing just anyone into their lives.

“I'm aware of how difficult the twins can be,” Cole said, his voice quieter now. “I see them often enough. But you can't expect every person who works for you to be perfect.”

“I expect them to do their jobs.”

“And what happens when they make a mistake?”

“They learn from it.”

“And if they don't?”

“Then they leave.”

Cole shook his head. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple.”

“No, it's convenient. There's a difference.”

I gave him a warning look.

He ignored it.

“Look, I'm not saying you should hire every random person who walks through that gate. I'm saying maybe your expectations are a little unrealistic.”

“My expectations are perfectly reasonable.”

“Of course they are. And I'm the most humble man in New York.”

“You're not even the most humble man in this room.”

“That's because you're not a man. You're a walking headache in an expensive suit.”

Despite myself, I almost smiled.

Almost.

Cole noticed. Naturally.

“There he is!” he exclaimed, pointing at me. “I knew you still had a sense of humor somewhere in there.”

“Get out.”

“Not until we finish discussing your mysterious new nanny.”

“There is nothing to discuss.”

“Then answer one question.”

I gestured impatiently for him to continue.

“Why her?”

I leaned back in my chair.

It was a fair question, even if I had no intention of entertaining Cole's habit of turning every conversation into an interrogation.

Claire Williams had no impressive credentials. She hadn't attended any of the institutions I would ordinarily expect from someone applying for a position in my household. Her answers during the interview had been honest, if occasionally uncomfortable for her to admit. She had nothing to offer on paper that would have convinced me to hire her.

But yesterday, when I found Lily and Liam with her, I had seen something worth considering.

She hadn't known who they were. She hadn't known who I was. There had been no wealthy father to impress and no potential employer to charm. She had simply helped two children who needed help.

That didn't make her qualified to be their nanny.

But it did tell me something about her character.

“I gave her an opportunity,” I said at last. “Nothing more.”

Cole watched me for a moment.

“An opportunity,” he repeated. “That's what we're calling it?”

“Would you prefer I called it a charitable donation?”

“No, I think I'll stick with the opportunity. Sounds much more professional.” He picked up his drink again. “So when does she start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“And you've explained your rules?”

“Every single one.”

“Let me guess. No lateness, no unauthorized visitors, no interfering with your schedule, no letting the children do anything you haven't personally approved, and absolutely no breathing too loudly in your presence.”

“Are you finished?”

“I missed a few, didn't I?”

I opened the file again, making it clear that the conversation was over.

Cole stood, still wearing that infuriating grin.

“For what it's worth, I hope she works out.”

“She will, provided she follows instructions.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“Then she'll leave, just like the others.”

He reached the door, then turned back.

“Try not to scare her off before she gets the chance to prove herself.”

“I don't scare people.”

Cole stared at me.

I stared back.

Then he burst out laughing.

“Right. Of course you don't.”

He disappeared into the corridor before I could respond.

I returned to my paperwork, determined to put the conversation behind me. Claire Williams had been given a chance, and that was all there was to it. I wasn't going to lower my standards simply because she had done one good deed.

Tomorrow, she would meet the children under my roof, where the real work would begin.

And I would be watching closely.

A good first impression meant very little. What mattered was what a person did when things became difficult.

Claire had earned her place in my house.

Whether she could keep it was another matter entirely.