Page 37 of Triplet Trouble For My Billionaire Boss

“What?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intend.

“Nothing,” she says quickly, taking a sip of water.

“It’s not nothing,” I press. “Say what you’re thinking.”

She hesitates, clearly debating whether to speak her mind. Finally, she sighs.

“I just think… it would mean a lot to Robbie if you showed up to things like that once in a while. He’s a great kid, but he’s shy. It’s hard for him to make friends, and… I don’t know, maybe seeing you there would give him a little extra confidence.”

Guilt twists in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. She’s right, of course. I know she’s right. But hearing it out loud feels like a punch to the gut.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say tightly.

She looks at me for a moment, like she wants to say more, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sets her empty glass in the sink and turns to leave.

“Annie,” I call after her.

She stops in the doorway, glancing back at me.

“For what it’s worth,” I say, my voice softer now. “I’m glad Robbie had a good time today. And… thank you. For being there for him.”

Her expression softens, and she offers me a small, tentative smile. “Of course. It’s my job.”

But the way she says it makes me think it’s more than that.

She leaves, the sound of her footsteps fading down the hall. I stay in the kitchen, staring at the container of chicken on the counter, my appetite gone.

She’s right. I need to do better—for Robbie, for myself. And maybe, just maybe, for her, too.

Chapter Twelve

Annie

The restaurant is bustling with laughter, clinking plates, and murmured conversations. Sunshine streams through the large windows, reflecting off the polished wood tables and the colorful mosaic floor.

Noah and I sit at a small table near the window, his familiar, easy smile making me feel a little less guilty about indulging in a day off.

It feels good to finally spend time with my oldest friend. Noah and I have known each other since elementary school, and though we both have busy work schedules, we’ve always made an effort to stay close. Still, it’s been weeks since our last real catch-up, and I’m nervous about what he’ll think when I tell him about my new job.

Hell, he doesn’t even know I’ve moved into their home.

He looks the same as ever—casual yet put-together in a blue button-down shirt and dark jeans, his dark blond hair perfectly styled, though he’d deny he spends any time on it. His blue eyes are sharp and lively, darting between me and his plate as he cuts into a piece of grilled chicken.

“So, how’s life at the big, fancy firm?” I ask, twirling a forkful of salad. “You’re all busy and important now, huh?”

Noah snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. I’m just a glorified paper-pusher in a slightly nicer office than the last one.”

“Come on, give yourself some credit,” I say, smiling. “You’ve worked your ass off for this.”

He leans back in his chair, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I have. And I have to admit that this job is better than the other one. It’s decent—good pay, less soul-sucking than the old marketing firm.”

“Less soul-sucking?” I arch a brow. “Wow. High praise.”

“Hey, in this economy, I’ll take what I can get,” he says, raising his iced tea like a toast. “But enough about me. How are you holding up? It’s been, what, a month?”

“Maybe longer,” I correct him, cringing slightly. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go MIA. It’s just been... hectic.”

He waves me off. “I get it. Adulting is hard. But you know you can call me, right? I’m not that busy and important.”

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