Chapter 2: The Nanny Showdown

When I found Caleb—

He was curled up on the tiny bed in the nanny’s room, snuggled up with Aubrey.

It was a lazy Sunday, the house buzzing with the neighbor’s lawnmower. I crept down the hall, coffee in hand, and froze at the doorway. Aubrey’s arms were wrapped around Caleb, the two of them tangled in a heap of trust and warmth that looked way cozier than my memory foam mattress ever did.

The bed was so small, barely enough for two. Caleb’s fox tail drooped helplessly onto the floor.

The thing could barely fit a twin sheet, and the frame squeaked if you so much as breathed. Caleb’s tail—usually so proud and fluffy—hung off the edge, brushing the worn carpet. It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t hurt so much.

The door opened quietly.

The handle clicked, and I stepped inside, careful not to wake them. Aubrey’s vanilla lotion lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of wet fur. The air still smelled faintly of last night’s takeout—orange chicken and fried rice, a comfort when the world outside felt too sharp.

Caleb’s fox ears twitched. Sensing my arrival, he reluctantly pulled himself out of Aubrey’s arms.

His golden eyes flickered open, sharp and wary. His tail gave a lazy, half-hearted twitch as he squirmed free, lips curling in a sulk like I’d crashed his party.

“Why are you here?”

The words hit me before I could even open my mouth. Wasn’t that supposed to be my line?

I blinked. Seriously? Was I invisible? I was the one paying the bills around here.

The pet I dropped six figures on isn’t in my room, not even in his own room, but here—cuddling with the nanny?

It’s one thing if he lets me pet him now and then. But Caleb is always so cold, sometimes I feel like I’m raising my own dad. He won’t even let me touch him.

My friends joked about me being a crazy cat lady with a twist. At least cats let you scratch their ears sometimes. Caleb just gave me the stink-eye and turned away, like I’d asked him to do my taxes.

But in private, he clings to the little nanny and sleeps like a log.

It was like walking in on your ex cuddling your best friend—awkward, and a little nauseating. I started questioning every life choice that led me here.

The harder I try, the more hopeless it feels.

I’d baked treats, bought toys, researched fox diets and the best dog parks in the city. I could’ve hired Cesar Millan himself and still not gotten a wag of that tail.

So all my effort was just to let the nanny live out my dream life? The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt.

I wanted to take Caleb out to talk.

Caleb just sat there, refusing to budge.

“Don’t even try it. Only Aubrey gets to touch my tail, got it?”

That stung. I glanced at the TV in the corner, playing reruns of "Friends," and for a second, I wished life had a laugh track. At least then someone would be on my side.

The nanny’s room was barely furnished. A battered dresser, a cheap lamp from Target, a stack of books with cracked spines. Nothing like the room I’d poured my bonus into for Caleb.

I couldn’t help but think of the room I’d prepared for him—floor-to-ceiling windows, balcony, king-size bed, walk-in closet, a room full of beastman toys…

I’d spent weekends at HomeGoods, agonizing over color swatches and comforters. The view from his window was the best in the house—the morning sun painted the walls gold. None of it seemed to matter.

For a second, I wondered if just giving him material comfort was too shallow.

I never believed those Instagram posts about emotional connection until now. Maybe love languages really are a thing, and I picked the wrong one.

But I did it all to make Caleb more comfortable. That’s why I worked so hard.

I frowned and reached out to pull Caleb up.

He slapped my hand away.

“Are you done yet?”

His nails scratched my skin. For a heartbeat, I thought about slapping back. Instead, I just clenched my jaw.

I was about to lose my temper, but Aubrey cut in:

“Miss Madison, everyone has the right to choose—even beastmen. Caleb likes me, not you. You can’t force him.”

Brave, fearless Aubrey stepped in front of Caleb, standing tall, chin up—like she’d just taken an oath. If there was a soundtrack, John Williams would’ve played her in.

Well said.

But all of this was paid for by me. Even hiring a professional beastman nanny like Aubrey was my money.

I had to bite back the urge to wave my bank statement in her face. The audacity of people who spend your money and then tell you how to live.

In the end, the beastman won’t let me touch him, and the nanny accuses me of not respecting beastmen. Looks like the nanny hasn’t done her job well.

If she can’t handle him, I’ll have to find a new nanny.

I pulled out my phone and sent Aubrey her salary for the month through Zelle.

The screen glowed: $4,500 sent. That’s more than my first car cost. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“Pack your things and leave. Don’t come back.”

As soon as I finished, Caleb lunged, grabbing Aubrey’s hand and glaring at me:

“I only want Aubrey.”

His claws dug into her palm, eyes—usually so flat—sparked with real emotion. Loyalty, maybe. Or just pure stubbornness.

With her confidence boosted, Aubrey’s voice got even louder. That $4,500 salary I just paid her earned me a furious glare:

“Miss Madison, I’ve taken good care of Caleb. He likes me, too. What right do you have to fire me?”

I laughed—sharp, wild, almost maniacal. The sound echoed down the hallway, bouncing back at me, and I realized just how alone it sounded.

For a moment, I wanted to snatch back that $4,500 and blast a complaint to her agency.

I raised an eyebrow:

“Because I paid. I can hire whoever I want.”

I scanned their faces, the silence hanging heavy between us. My hands shook just slightly, but I held my ground.

Caleb was indeed well cared for, but he was too cold to me. Only when he looked at Aubrey did his eyes soften.

It felt like I was making a wedding dress for someone else.

Even more infuriating.

I told Aubrey to hurry up, pack her things, and leave.

She just stood there, refusing, all righteous:

“I’m not leaving. I want to stay here and take care of Caleb.”

After she finished, Aubrey turned to Caleb, gaze soft with affection.

I stared at the scene in disbelief, unable to stop myself:

“This is my house. You’re the beastman nanny I just fired. I have the right to ask you to leave. And Caleb, let go. I’ll get you a new nanny.”

Caleb shook his head, agitated:

“No! I only want Aubrey!”

Caleb tried to pull me, not caring about anything else.

His strength caught me off guard. For a second, I thought about calling animal control, but all I did was grit my teeth.

Seeing things spiraling, Aubrey soothed him by stroking his ears.

She whispered soft nonsense, the kind you’d use for a scared kid. His breathing slowed, ears melting under her touch.

“I’m not leaving.”

Caleb finally calmed down, then turned to me and said:

“Madison, Aubrey and I will never be separated. You’re not allowed to fire her.”

Eating my food, living in my house, using my things, and now ordering me around.

Next time, I need to find a strict nanny who can actually handle beastmen.

I made a mental note to search for the strictest, most no-nonsense beastman handler in the tri-state area. Maybe someone ex-military. Or someone with a black belt.

But as I scrolled through endless profiles, a single thought haunted me: What if no one could fix what was broken between us?