Page 2 of Raphael
As Marco eagerly grabs Annie's hand to pull her toward his toys, I take a moment to study her. She's young, too young probably, but there's a maturity in her eyes that doesn't match her age.She moves with a natural grace around Marco, already listening intently to his rambling explanation about the spaceship he's building.
In my office, I pull up the agency's file on her again. Annie Harper, 21 years old. College student majoring in History. Excellent references from her previous families, though all short-term assignments. Father deceased three years ago. Supporting herself and her mother.
Normally, I'd never consider someone so young for this position. I need someone who won't ask questions when I come home with bruised knuckles or when Dante calls at midnight. Someone who won't freak out if they accidentally see the gun I keep locked in my bedroom safe. Someone who understands that there are parts of my life that remain completely off-limits.
But I'm desperate. Marco starts kindergarten in two weeks, and I need someone reliable before then. The agency has sent three candidates already. All quit within days once they realized what they might be getting into.
When I return to the living room, Marco is demonstrating how his Lego spaceship can transform into a robot, and Annie is watching with genuine interest. Not the fake enthusiasm some adults show to children, but actual engagement.
"So, Annie," I say, settling into the armchair across from them. "The agency tells me you're in college."
She straightens up, professional mode activated. "Yes, I'm studying History. I'm entering my sophomore year next month, but my schedule is flexible. Most of my classes are on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with one evening class on Monday."
"And you're comfortable with variable hours? Sometimes I need to leave very early or come back very late."
She nods. "The agency mentioned that. I'm a night owl by nature, and as long as I have enough notice to plan around my class schedule, I can accommodate most timing needs."
"What about last-minute situations? Emergencies?"
"Mr. Conti—Raphael—I grew up with a father who worked unpredictable hours. I understand that sometimes things come up without warning."
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. "And you're not going to ask questions about where I go or what I do?"
Her eyes meet mine directly now, that amber color almost glowing in the afternoon light coming through the windows. "The agency was clear that discretion was a primary requirement for this position. I'm here to care for Marco, not to involve myself in your personal affairs."
Smart answer. Practiced, maybe, but delivered with sincerity. I glance at Marco, who's gone back to playing with his Legos but is clearly eavesdropping on our conversation.
"Marco, why don't you go pick out a book for after dinner?" I suggest. He looks ready to protest but knows better. Once he's out of earshot, I turn back to Annie.
"I need to be clear about something," I say, my voice lower now. "My work requires absolute privacy. If you take this job, you'll see things sometimes that might make you uncomfortable. Late nights. Phone calls I take in another room. Occasional... injuries." I watch her face as I continue. "I'm not asking you to lie to anyone, but I am asking you not to speculate or gossip about what you might see or hear."
She doesn't flinch. "I understand."
"Do you?" I press. "Because the last three nannies said the same thing, and none of them lasted more than a week."
Annie takes a deep breath, and I watch her gather her thoughts. "My father was a police officer," she says quietly. "He worked undercover operations. Growing up, I learned very young that asking questions about his work could put him in danger. I learned to look the other way, to not mention certain things to my friends." Her eyes meet mine again. "I don't need to know what you do, Raphael. I just need to know that Marco will be safe with you."
That catches me off guard. Most people are too intimidated to question me about anything, let alone my ability to keep my son safe. "Marco is always my priority," I say, an edge creeping into my voice. "Everything I do is to protect him."
She doesn't back down. "Then we understand each other."
For a long moment, we just stare at each other, and I feel something changing in the air between us. Something dangerous. Something I need to shut down immediately. She's too young, too innocent, and absolutely off-limits, both as an employee and as someone who will be caring for my son.
But goddamn if those amber eyes don't do something to me.
"When can you start?" I ask, breaking the tension.
Relief floods her face. "Tomorrow, if you need me to."
"Tomorrow would be perfect." I stand, towering over her as she rises as well. "Seven AM. I'll need to leave for a meeting by eight."
"I'll be here at six-thirty," she counters. "That will give you time to show me Marco's routine and anything else I should know."
I find myself smiling despite my reservations. "Six-thirty it is."
As I walk her to the door, Marco races back in with a stack of books. "Are you coming back tomorrow, Annie?"
She crouches down again to his level. "I sure am. And maybe we can try making those dinosaur pancakes for breakfast one day this week?"
