Page 13 of One Night With The Nanny

“I did appreciate the extra juice.” She grew quiet and became absorbed with her phone again. “I miss Lucy.”

“You should call her after school and see if she’s feeling up to a visit. I’ll take you,” he offered, but Mia shrugged it off.

“Maybe. It’s nice when we get to Brighthaven, when we’re with Lucy, until we have to leave her there.”

“That’s the place she picked and she says she’s happy.”

“I know, Dad,” Mia ground out. That was how conversations about the family’s favorite housekeeper usually ended. It had been almost two years since Lucy had retired and moved to an assisted living facility for active seniors, but Mia was still blaming Max for that as well. In Lucy’s case, it was easier for Max to understand. She had been a vital part of Mia’s support system since she was an infant. “You should wear something like this,” she said, handing Max her phone.

“Okay…” he nodded, prepared to wear exactly what was on the screen, even if it was a chicken costume, if it would make her happy. “Okay,” he said more seriously as he pinched and expanded the image. He liked the navy trousers, the cashmere turtleneck sweater, and the gray coat. “You think this would be appropriate?”

An irritated sigh huffed from Mia. “I wouldn’t have told you to wear it if it wasn’t ‘appropriate,’” she said, curling her fingers and rolling her eyes again. “You don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard, but you still want to put out those DILF vibes.”

“DILF?” Max shook his head. He had an idea of what a DILF was but he was hoping their age difference wouldn’t be a big deal. “It’s not like that.”

“So, this friend is your age, then?” she said, smiling innocently at Max.

His cheeks puffed out as he shook his head. “He is not,” he conceded. “I don’t know how old he is—maybe forty—but I’m not drawn to him because of his age.”

If anything, it was Reid’s timelessness that fascinated Max. The suit was sleek and modern, tailored to fit Reid like a dream. But he carried himself like he’d stepped out of a different era, when men knew how to wear suits and drank cocktails before dinner.

The meeting at the Baccarat with the team from Liberty Social had turned into an avalanche of cheap trash. All their numbers were fantasies and they attempted to dazzle Max with desperate “celebrity” endorsements and glossy AI art featuring screaming eagles and American flags. Max wouldn’t have sat through the entire meal and listened to their ridiculous pitch if he hadn’t been so damn tired. The week had been particularly busy with a wedding in London to attend and the purchase of a streaming service to oversee.

He’d hoped for a quiet weekend at home with Mia, but she had stormed out earlier Saturday evening because Max had said no to lip fillers. He knew it was old-fashioned of him and that it was her face, but Max thought she was too young to start making such superficial changes when she was already so beautiful.

“I know you’re growing up, Mia. But you’re going to make yourself look so much older than you really are and it would be such a shame. Hold off for as long as you can, before you start injecting your face with chemicals and toxins.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

“God, I hate you,” Mia had grumbled as she stormed down her hall and slammed a door.

“I know you don’t mean that,” he called after her, but Max had spent the entirety of dinner at the Baccarat wondering if she did.

Max had nodded and hummed at the appropriate intervals, while the lawyers and accountants around him babbled and patted each other on the back for being mediocre at golf and good at buying boats.

“Would you care for some dessert or a glass of port?” their server had asked Max, pulling him from his thoughts and reminding him that everyone was waiting for an answer.

“No, thank you,” Max had told the young man, then winced at the expectant faces around him. “I think I’ll pass on this as well. Good evening, gentlemen,” he said as he excused himself, ignoring their panicked whispers as he headed for the bar.

“If you say so,” Mia replied next to him in the limo, then gave Max a jab with her elbow. “What was it, then, that drew you to him?” she mimicked and snickered. “That’s how I know you like him, because you’ve never been drawn to anyone, as far as I can tell.”

“Well… He’s cool.” Max held up his hands, shrugging as Reid had suggested. They didn’t want to build up her expectations and she could meet Reid and learn for herself. That was the point of him coming to dinner, after all.

“He’s cool?” Mia’s nose wrinkled. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

Max made a thoughtful sound as he considered. “I think he’s an interesting man, and I can’t say that about a lot of people. You should meet him.” He shrugged again, making her eye twitch. Max was enjoying this. The conversation was going much better than their last and she seemed legitimately curious.

“We’re here,” she complained, glaring mutinously at the driver as he steered into the drop-off lane. “You can’t give me anything else?”

“I don’t know very much about him.”

Mia hummed and nodded. “It’s a good thing you invited him to our house for dinner.”

“The Camerons love him. You know Agnes would have warned me if he was dangerous or unsuitable.”

“That is true.” Mia laughed, sounding relieved. “Agnes knows everyone and everything about them. I gotta go. I’ll be there tomorrow night.”

“Great. Send me that picture,” he said, his neck craning hopefully toward her.

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