Page 1 of One Night With The Nanny

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Saturday, 7:35 p.m. …

“Brava! Bravo!” Reid Marshall hopped up from the sectional and clapped and whistled as June Cameron, Milo Ashby, and the Cameron triplets took their bows. The evening’s concert at East 63rd had been even better than the last. He leaned toward Agnes Cameron. “June has come such a long way! That solo was flawless.” He kissed his fingers, so proud of their little June Bug.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Agnes asked, beaming at June as she hugged his arm. She had adopted June a few years earlier and it had been beautiful, watching the little girl thrive and their relationship grow. “Thank you so much for helping her practice and talking to her about the little ‘attacks’ she was having,” Agnes whispered. “I don’t know why none of us—me, Penny, or June’s therapists—didn’t realize she was still so nervous about being adopted.”

Reid shrugged and made a dismissive gesture. “It was an easy one to miss because you’re doing such a great job and she’s so happy. But starting middle school means a whole new school and a new classroom full of kids to establish herself with. We talked about what she’s comfortable with sharing when she introduces herself, and practiced some great responses in case some of her peers get inappropriate or too personal.”

Agnes sighed. “Is there anything you can’t fix?” she mused and laughed when Reid pulled a face. “I mean it! And you have no idea how much it means to June, that you never miss a single one of her performances.”

“Are you kidding? Where else would I be?”

Agnes huffed sarcastically as she checked him out from the corner of her eye. “Dressed like that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Reid said with an airy wave. “Found this in the back of the closet and thought I’d see if it still fit.”

That got a hard eye roll from Agnes. “May I?” she asked, gesturing at his coat’s button.

Reid looked down, confused. “Sure…” he said warily and held up his hands as she slid the button free and opened the lapel. He swatted her hand away as soon as she pointed at the label.

“Turnbull & Asser? And it fits you like a glove. I’ll just bet that was sitting at the back of your closet.”

“It was,” Reid stated. “I have a lot of nice suits at the back of my closet and I like to take them out when I’m going to important events like this,” he said with a shrug.

“Hmmm…” Agnes stared him down, but Reid remained relaxed and aloof until Penny came along to distract her.

Once Reid was free of Agnes, he went to say his goodbyes. It was already past Gavin’s bedtime and he and Dash were the first to leave. Like Reid, they didn’t have children to transport home and tuck into bed, but the rest of their friends and family were preparing to clear out as well.

“Will we see you at brunch?” Reid asked Morris, throwing an arm around his neck as they stepped out into the night.

“Maybe… Cadie’s at my parents’ this weekend so it’ll depend on Penn.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Penn warned as he joined them. His cheeks were red because he’d had a little too much wine and Reid didn’t have to be a mind reader to know how he planned to spend the rest of his evening with Morris.

“Eh,” Reid said with another shrug. “You can skip it if you don’t have Cadence. I was mostly looking forward to seeing my niece,” he teased.

“Want a ride home?” Morris asked as their car was brought to the curb and he was handed the keys. “We can drop you off.”

“Nah. Think I’ll go for a walk and see what the night throws my way,” he said, waving as he left them.

Reid didn’t have very far to walk, though. The Baccarat was just a few blocks away from Agnes and Penny’s place. His steps grew lighter as he hurried past the tall, “trillion-faceted” windows and through the hotel’s majestic black entrance. The glittering opulence of the hotel’s grand salon, with its twinkling chandeliers, pops of decadent red from exquisitely arranged roses, and open, gleaming shelves displaying some of the crystal house’s designs, never ceased to give Reid a rush.

He strolled into the bar, his heart racing with anticipation at the sight of the checkerboard floor, the red velvet walls, and the intimately arched ceiling. It was like going back in time to a glitzy speakeasy and Reid had yet to miss at the Baccarat.

That’s why it was his favorite hunting ground.

Reid felt extra dangerous—like 007—in a dark teal velvet suit as he rested an elbow on the counter.

“Wes!” The bartender, Jim, had a crystal tumbler ready. “Your usual?”

“Please,” Reid replied, relaxing and scanning the room.

“Your Old Fashioned, sir,” Jim said as he set it in front of Reid. He lingered for a moment so Reid leaned in.

“Anything interesting arrive yet?” he asked, earning a smirk from Jim.

They had a rough patch after he became a regular until it dawned on Reid that Jim thought he was a sex worker, hustling wealthy guests. Reid had taken advantage of a quiet moment and explained to Jim that he ran a small, but thriving legal business and that this was how he let off steam when he could get away. Reid promised that he had no interest whatsoever in taking anyone’s money and that he simply preferred one-night stands with older men who weren’t looking for anything serious.

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