The rest of the week passed in a careful dance of avoidance. Alexander left earlier each morning and returned later each evening, as if their midnight conversation had spooked him back behind his professional walls. Sophia caught glimpses of him in hallways, always in motion, always with his phone pressed to his ear, always looking like he was running from something.
But she noticed things. The way he paused outside his home office door when the twins were laughing at something she'd said. How his coffee mug from their late-night tea session appeared in the sink each morning, carefully rinsed. The fact that he'd actually eaten the lunch she'd left wrapped in the office refrigerator, even though he'd never acknowledged it.
Alexander Steele was fighting a losing battle against caring, and Sophia was determined to help him surrender.
Friday evening arrived with the twins in full meltdown mode. Emma had discovered that her favorite dress no longer fit, she'd grown two inches since Elena bought it and was inconsolable about the loss. Ethan was exhausted from a week of new routines and had spent the afternoon having what could only be described as a spectacular tantrum about homework.
"I don't want to do stupid math!" Ethan wailed from the kitchen table, his workbook thrown dramatically onto the floor. "Numbers are dumb and school is dumb and I want my mommy!"
Emma joined the chorus from her perch on the breakfast bar. "And I want my blue dress with the twirly skirt and it's NOT FAIR that I grew too big for it!"
Sophia surveyed the chaos with the calm of someone who'd wrangled foster siblings through much worse meltdowns. "Alright, I hear you both. Growing up is hard and math is frustrating and missing Mommy hurts."
"You don't understand!" Emma sobbed. "Mommy bought me that dress for my birthday and now it doesn't fit and it's like she's going away more!"
Sophia's heart clenched. She knelt beside Emma's chair, her voice gentle. "Sweet girl, your mommy didn't go away because the dress doesn't fit. Your mommy's love grows with you, even when the clothes don't."
"But what if I forget what she looked like when she gave it to me?"
"Then we'll look at pictures and remember together. And maybe we can find the dress a new home with a little girl who needs twirly skirts as much as you do."
Emma's sobs slowed to hiccups. "Really?"
"Really. But first, we need to eat dinner. Mrs. Henderson made your favorite…"
"I don't want dinner!" Ethan declared, crossing his arms. "I want Daddy to eat dinner with us like normal families!"
"Daddy's working, sweetheart."
"Daddy's ALWAYS working!" Emma joined her brother's rebellion. "He used to eat dinner with us before Mommy went to heaven!"
"He used to read us bedtime stories!" Ethan added. "And help with homework! And watch movies with us on Friday nights!"
Sophia looked at these two heartbroken children and made a decision that would probably get her fired.
"You know what? You're absolutely right. Daddy should eat dinner with his family." She stood up, smoothing her jeans with hands that were only slightly trembling. "Wait here."
"Sophia, where are you going?" Emma called.
"To get your father."
Alexander's home office was down a long hallway lined with family portraits, mostly professional shots of him, Elena, and baby twins, but a few candid moments that showed the laughter Sophia was fighting to restore. She could hear his voice through the heavy oak door, speaking in clipped, authoritative tones about market projections and quarterly growth.
She knocked.
"Not now," came the sharp response.
Sophia knocked again, louder.
"I said NOT NOW!"
She opened the door and walked in.
Alexander was behind his massive desk, a video conference displayed on his computer screen. She could see at least six other people in the meeting, all in expensive suits, all looking important and impatient.
"Mr. Steele," Alexander was saying into his headset, "if we can just review the Asian market data…"
"Alexander," Sophia interrupted, her voice clear and calm.
His head snapped up, gray eyes flashing with anger and surprise. The people on his screen turned to look at something off-camera, probably wondering who had dared interrupt their billionaire CEO.
"I'm in a meeting," Alexander said through gritted teeth.
"I can see that. Your children are asking for you."
"I'll see them after…"
"No." Sophia moved closer to his desk, very aware that she was probably being seen by some of the most powerful people in international business. "Your children need you now. They're crying because they miss having a father who eats dinner with them. They remember when you used to be present for family meals, and they want that back."
Alexander's jaw clenched. "Ms. Martinez, you're interrupting a very important…"
"More important than your children?"
The words hung in the air like a challenge. On the computer screen, the meeting participants were watching this drama unfold with obvious fascination. Sophia could practically feel their judgment, but she didn't care.
"Emma grew out of her favorite dress today, the one Elena bought her for her birthday. She's heartbroken because she feels like she's losing another piece of her mother. Ethan threw his math homework on the floor because he's frustrated and exhausted and he just wants his daddy to help him like you used to do."
Alexander's expression was unreadable, but she could see the war happening behind his eyes.
"They need their father, Alexander. Not their provider. Not their CEO. Their father. Right now."
For a long moment, the only sound was the quiet hum of the computer and the distant voices from the video call asking if everything was alright.
Then, slowly, Alexander looked directly into his computer camera.
"Gentlemen, we'll need to reschedule this meeting. A family matter has come up that requires my immediate attention."
"But Alexander…" one of the voices protested.
"Have my assistant send out new meeting invites for Monday morning. Tokyo time." Alexander's voice was calm but final. "Good evening."
He closed the laptop with a decisive click.
The silence in the office felt enormous. Sophia suddenly realized the magnitude of what she'd just done, she'd made a billionaire CEO walk out of an international business meeting. She'd probably just lost her job spectacularly.
"That," Alexander said quietly, standing from his chair, "was either the bravest or the stupidest thing anyone has ever done in my presence."
"Probably both," Sophia admitted, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Do you have any idea how much money was being discussed in that meeting?"
"No."
"Neither do I, actually. Which probably proves your point." Alexander loosened his tie, and for the first time since she'd known him, he looked... lighter somehow. "Where are my children?"
"In the kitchen, refusing to eat until their father joins them."
"Then I suppose I should join them."
They walked to the kitchen together, Alexander's expensive dress shoes clicking against the marble while Sophia's sneakers whispered softly beside him. She could feel the tension radiating off him, not anger, exactly, but something more complex. Uncertainty, maybe. Fear.
"How long has it been?" she asked quietly.
"Since I ate dinner with them? I don't remember. Weeks, maybe. I used to..." He stopped walking, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Before Elena died, we had dinner together every night. It was a sacred time. No phones, no work. Just family."
"What changed?"
"Everything." His voice was raw with grief. "The empty chair at the table. The way Emma would set a place for her mother and then cry when Elena didn't come. The way Ethan would ask when Mommy was coming home. I couldn't... I couldn't sit there and pretend we were still a complete family."
Sophia's heart broke for him. "But you're still a family, Alexander. Different, hurting, but still a family."
"Are we? Because most days it feels like I'm failing them so completely that they'd be better off without me."
"They wouldn't. Trust me, I know what it's like to lose parents. Your children don't want perfection, Alexander. They want a present."
They reached the kitchen to find Emma and Ethan exactly where Sophia had left them, Emma sniffling quietly at the breakfast bar, Ethan sprawled dramatically across his chair like he was staging a one-person protest.
Both children looked up as their father entered, their expressions shifting from surprise to hope to uncertainty.
"Daddy?" Emma's voice was small. "Are you going to eat with us?"
Alexander looked at his children, really looked at them and Sophia saw the exact moment his walls cracked.
"Yes," he said, his voice slightly rough. "I'm going to eat with you."
The transformation was immediate. Emma scrambled off her stool and launched herself at Alexander's legs, hugging him with the fierce desperation of a child who'd been waiting weeks for this moment. Ethan abandoned his dramatic sprawl and joined his sister, wrapping his arms around Alexander's waist.
"We missed you, Daddy," Ethan mumbled into Alexander's suit jacket.
"I missed you too," Alexander replied, and Sophia could hear the surprise in his voice, as if he was just realizing it was true. His hands came up to rest on his children's heads, his fingers gentle in their dark hair. "I missed you so much."
Mrs. Henderson appeared as if by magic, setting plates and silverware around the kitchen island. "Dinner is ready, Mr. Steele. Chicken parmesan with pasta, and I believe Miss Emma requested extra cheese."
"LOTS of extra cheese," Emma corrected, finally releasing her father but staying close to his side.
Alexander looked slightly overwhelmed as he sat down between his children, still in his business suit, his tie loosened but still around his neck. Sophia moved to help serve dinner, but she couldn't help watching the family dynamic unfold.
"Daddy, you need to try the garlic bread," Emma announced, piling pieces onto his plate. "Sophia showed Mrs. Henderson how to make it extra garlicky."
"And she helped me with my math homework yesterday," Ethan added proudly. "We did it at the kitchen table, and she explained fractions using pizza slices."
Alexander's eyes found Sophia across the kitchen, and something in his expression made her chest tighten. Gratitude, maybe. Or something deeper, more complicated.
"That sounds much more interesting than the way I learned fractions," Alexander said, turning back to his son.
"Daddy, do you remember when you used to help with homework?" Emma asked, twirling pasta around her fork with the serious concentration of a six-year-old.
"I remember. You used to spread all your papers across the dining room table, and your mother would make hot chocolate while we worked."
For a moment, Sophia held her breath, waiting to see if mentioning Elena would shatter this fragile moment.
But Emma just nodded solemnly. "Mommy made the best hot chocolate. With the little marshmallows shaped like hearts."
"She did," Alexander agreed softly. "Maybe we could try making some after dinner. I think I remember her recipe."
"Really?" Both twins lit up like Christmas morning.
"Really. But first, tell me about school this week. I feel like I've missed a lot."
And just like that, the family dinner that had seemed impossible twenty minutes ago became the most natural thing in the world. Emma chattered about her best friend Sophie's missing tooth and the art project they were doing with tissue paper. Ethan explained his ongoing campaign to convince his teacher that creative writing was better than spelling tests.
Alexander listened to every word, asking follow-up questions and actually laughing at Emma's dramatic retelling of the playground drama. This was the father Sophia had glimpsed in those midnight photos, engaged, present, capable of joy.
"Sophia," Emma said suddenly, "you should eat with us too! You're part of our family now!"
Sophia felt her cheeks warm as three pairs of eyes turned to her, two expectant, one unreadable.
"That's very sweet, Emma, but I'm staff. I should…"
"You should sit down and eat," Alexander interrupted quietly. His gray eyes met hers across the kitchen. "Emma's right. You're part of this family now."
The words hit her harder than they should have. Part of this family. She'd been searching for family her entire life, moving from foster home to foster home, always on the outside looking in.
She sat down at the island, accepting the plate Ethan slid toward her, and tried to ignore the way Alexander watched her with something that looked suspiciously like fondness.
"So," Alexander said, cutting into his chicken, "tell me about this dress situation."
Emma launched into the tragic tale of outgrowing her favorite dress, complete with dramatic gestures and declarations of heartbreak. Alexander listened with complete seriousness, nodding at appropriate moments and offering the kind of comfort that came from actually understanding his daughter's personality.
"You know what I think?" he said when Emma finished her story. "I think we should go shopping for a new twirly dress tomorrow. Just you and me."
Emma's eyes went wide. "Really? Just us?"
"Just us. And maybe we can find your old dress a good home, like Sophia suggested."
Sophia felt something warm and bright bloom in her chest. This was what healing looked like, not forgetting the past, but making space for new joy alongside the grief.
After dinner, Alexander actually stayed to help with the promised hot chocolate, rolling up his sleeves and searching through cabinets until he found Elena's recipe box. The twins perched on stools beside him, offering advice and stealing tastes of marshmallows.
"Daddy, you're doing it wrong," Emma giggled as Alexander stirred the cocoa with intense concentration. "Mommy used to do it in figure-eights."
"Like this?" Alexander adjusted his stirring pattern, his expression so serious that Sophia had to cover her smile with her hand.
"Perfect!" Ethan declared. "Now the heart marshmallows!"
As Alexander carefully added heart-shaped marshmallows to three mugs of hot chocolate, Sophia realized she was witnessing something precious, a family learning to honor their past while building their future.
"This is good, Daddy," Emma announced after taking a careful sip. "Almost as good as Mommy's."
"Almost," Alexander agreed, and his smile was soft and sad and hopeful all at once.
Later, after the twins had been tucked into bed with extra hugs and promises of shopping trips, Sophia found herself alone in the kitchen with Alexander. He was still in his dress shirt and loosened tie, but the rigid businessman had been replaced by something softer, more human.
"Thank you," he said quietly, not looking at her as he rinsed their mugs in the sink.
"For what?"
"For making me remember what I was fighting for." He turned to face her, his gray eyes serious in the soft kitchen lighting. "I've been so focused on providing for them that I forgot they needed more than financial security."
"They needed their father."
"They needed their father," he agreed. "And I needed to remember how to be him."
The air between them felt charged with something unspoken, something that went beyond employer and employee, beyond their roles in this complicated family dynamic.
"That meeting I interrupted," Sophia said, suddenly needing to address the elephant in the room. "Was it really important?"
Alexander's mouth quivered in what might have been a smile. "Monumentally important. Internationally significant. The kind of meeting that makes or breaks quarterly projections."
Sophia winced. "I'm sorry. I just…"
"You were absolutely right to interrupt it." Alexander stepped closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne, close enough to see the gold flecks in his gray eyes. "My children needed me, and I needed to be reminded that some things are more important than business."
"Even monumentally important business?"
"Even monumentally important business."
They stood there for a moment, the kitchen quiet around them, and Sophia became acutely aware of how domestic this felt- cleaning up after a family dinner, discussing the children, standing close enough to touch in the warm lighting of their shared space.
"I should let you get back to work," she said finally, even though the last thing she wanted was to break this spell.
"I should," Alexander agreed, but he didn't move away. "But I think tonight, work can wait."
"What will you do instead?"
His smile was soft and real and made her heart skip in a way that was definitely not professional. "I think I'll read my children a bedtime story. It's been too long since I've done that."
"They'll love that."
"I hope so." He paused, his eyes searching her face. "Sophia?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For giving me my family back."
Before she could respond, he was gone, heading upstairs to read bedtime stories to his children. Sophia stood alone in the kitchen, her heart racing and her mind spinning.
She'd come here to be a nanny.
She was starting to realize she might be becoming something else entirely.