A Poor Dad Babysat A Woman’s Kid, Unaware She Was A Millionaire Who Fell For His Warm Smile

The Hidden CEO and the Glass Office

What started as a one-time favor turned into something else. Arabella called again the next week, then the week after.

It wasn’t just babysitting. It was Xander showing up with homemade mac and cheese because Pippa liked his better.

It was them walking through Central Park together while the girls played. It was Pippa calling him “Mr. Sparkle Dad.”

Pippa drew pictures of the three of them. Every time, Arabella noticed something new.

She saw the way he always knelt to talk to Pippa at her level. She watched him carry her when she got tired.

He did it like it was the most natural thing in the world. She loved how his eyes crinkled when he laughed.

He never asked about her job or made assumptions about her clothes. He didn’t care about the car that picked her up.

He just saw her as Arabella. That scared her a little because she hadn’t told him the truth.

She hadn’t mentioned she was the CEO of a digital media firm. She hadn’t said the penthouse was actually hers.

She didn’t mention the millions in her account. Xander looked at her like she was someone real. She wasn’t ready to lose that.

“Can I ask you something?” he said one evening. They had put Pippa and Xavier to bed and were sitting on her balcony.

They were drinking iced tea with city lights sparkling below them. “Sure,” she replied. “Why me?”

“You could afford anyone. A nanny, a private sitter. Why ask a guy you met in a grocery store?”

Arabella looked at him for a long moment. “Because you were the first person who didn’t try to impress me.”

“You were just kind and warm and real.” He smiled softly. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

She was glad too, but she knew she couldn’t keep her secret forever. She wasn’t sure if he’d still look at her the same.

Her phone rang as she was pulling her heels off in the hallway. Her assistant, Leela, was on the screen.

“I need to know if I should confirm your appearance at the gala,” Leela said. “The press wants a quote.”

Arabella’s eyes flicked toward the living room. Pippa was giggling at something Xander was saying.

He was sitting cross-legged, balancing a plastic cupcake on his head. “I’ll get back to you,” she said quickly.

She hung up before Leela could protest. She stepped into the room. “Are you planning on turning my daughter into a pastry chef?”

Xander looked up with a mock expression of offense. “She’s the boss; I just follow orders.”

Arabella leaned against the door frame. “I noticed you brought cupcakes.” He nodded. “Yeah, Xavier and I baked them.”

“He insisted they needed pink frosting and edible glitter. I didn’t argue.” She crouched down, brushing Pippa’s hair.

“I can’t tell if you’re raising a future baker or a party planner.” “Why not both?” he said with a grin.

Arabella hesitated, then stood. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He followed her out to the balcony.

The city cast a hazy glow. The air was cooler tonight, the breeze tugging at her blouse.

“I have to ask,” she said, folding her arms. “Why haven’t you asked me what I do yet?”

Xander leaned against the railing. “Because if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me.” “You’re not curious?”

“I mean, sure,” he said. “But I’m not trying to figure out how to fit into your world.”

“I’m just happy when I’m here.” Arabella looked away. “That’s the thing; you don’t know what my world is.”

He tilted his head. “Then tell me.” She didn’t, not yet. Instead, she changed the subject.

“Pippa starts swim lessons next week. I’d like you to keep taking her if you’re free.”

He nodded slowly. “Of course. She mentioned wanting to learn how to dive.” Arabella gave a short laugh.

“She thinks diving means cannonballing.” “She’s five; that’s pretty accurate.” She turned to look at him again.

“You’re different than anyone I’ve met.” Xander shrugged. “I just try to be decent.” “No,” she said quietly.

“It’s more than that.” A moment passed between them, quiet and charged. “You’re different too, in a good way.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but her phone buzzed again. She glanced at it and turned it over.

“Work?” he asked. “Yes.” “You don’t look like you want to answer it.” “I don’t.”

He nodded once, then stepped back. “Well I should get Xavier home. He’s probably already passed out.”

She followed him to the door. Xavier was indeed asleep sideways on the couch with a book on his chest.

Xander lifted him gently into his arms. The boy stirred but didn’t wake. “You’re coming to swim class?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” The elevator doors opened. He turned. “And if you ever want to tell me about your world, I’ll listen.”

Arabella stood there, her heart thudding harder than it should have. She feared his reaction when he finally found out.

Two days later, it nearly happened. She was in her sleek glass office on the 40th floor of a Midtown skyscraper.

Her assistant buzzed in. “There’s a man in the lobby asking for you. He doesn’t have an appointment.”

Arabella frowned. “Name?” “Xander Owens.” Her stomach dropped. “Send him up.”

He arrived looking completely out of place in jeans and a faded t-shirt. He had his messenger bag slung across his shoulder.

The receptionist looked like she wanted to stop him, but Arabella waved her off. “Everything okay?” she asked.

“I had to drop something off,” he said. He pulled out a small paper crown decorated with glitter and rhinestones.

“Pippa forgot it in my car.” Arabella stared at the crown, then at him. “You came all the way here for that?”

“She cried when she realized it was missing. Said it was her lucky tiara.” Arabella took the crown, her throat tightening.

“Thank you.” He looked around the office. “This is not what I expected.” She exhaled slowly. “I was going to tell you.”

Xander nodded, his face unreadable. “You run this place?” “Yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“So you’re not just doing okay. You’re successful.” “I own the company.” There was a long pause.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” “Because every time someone finds out, they treat me differently. I didn’t want that with you.”

“I wouldn’t have treated you any differently,” he said quietly. “You say that now.” He looked at her for a long moment.

“I didn’t come here to argue. I just came to bring her crown.” Arabella reached out, touching his arm.

“Please don’t go.” “I’m not angry,” he said. “Just surprised. I should have told you,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded once. “I need time to think.” Then he turned and walked out. Arabella stood frozen, the crown in her hand.