Page 6 of One Night With The Nanny

“There’s no fee. I’ll catch you around, Max,” he stated firmly and with a touch of condescension as he headed for the door.

“Wait!” Max rushed back and caught Wes’s hand again. “What do you mean, there’s no fee? Did someone else pay you?” he whispered suspiciously.

That caused Wes to laugh even louder as he jabbed the call button. “No one paid me!” He tipped toward Max so he could whisper in his ear. “I’m not an escort, Max. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sex worker, as long as no one’s making you do it. But I just came to get laid and now I’m going back to my life because I have responsibilities to attend to.”

“Oh.” Max blinked at the elevator, feeling rather foolish. “My apologies. I just assumed…”

“I know. It makes it easier to pick up men and I can usually avoid messes like this if I leave before we have this chat, but I overslept this morning,” Wes explained, then pressed a quick kiss to Max’s cheek. “Take care,” he said before the doors opened and he stepped inside.

“But… Can I call you?” Max attempted, earning a hard wince from Wes.

“Afraid not. It was fun, though.” He pressed a button, winking at Max as the elevator closed.

Max grabbed one of the doors, halting it. “Fun?” He reeled, scrambling for a way to pause everything and get the upper hand on the situation. “You can’t leave!”

“I absolutely can,” Wes said, giving Max’s hand a hard, stinging flick so he’d release the door.

“Ouch!” Max complained, then swore when the doors slid closed. “Wait!” he shouted at the flat, metal panels, listening as the elevator descended. “Damn it!”

There wasn’t a chance he’d catch up with Wes, but Max rushed to dress and make himself presentable. He recalled that the bartender had been familiar with Wes and figured he would see if anyone downstairs could help with a last name or a place of business.

Unfortunately, the bar was vacant because it was just after 8:00 a.m. when Max stormed into the lobby. “Damn it!” he repeated and scrubbed a hand over his mouth as he searched around him. There was no trace of Wes in the quiet lobby or the salon. A few employees murmured softly to guests as they checked out and porters pushed heaving luggage carts through the hotel’s doors to waiting cabs and limos.

“Max!” a woman’s voice called, making him jump. “Maximilian, I know you can hear me,” she added, and he smiled as he turned and opened his arms.

“Agnes Cameron?” he asked, even though there was no doubting that voice or the statuesque goddess gliding toward him with her arms outstretched, one hand holding a champagne flute.

“What are you doing here this early, darling?” She kissed each of his cheeks, then leaned back and gave him a once over. “Are you finally seeing someone?”

“No!” Max shook his head quickly. “I was here to listen to a proposal last night and the evening ran a bit long,” he said with a dismissive wave. It was true, for the most part.

Agnes made a knowing sound as she sipped from her flute. “Whatever it was, it was expensive.”

“What?” Max’s voice cracked and heat rushed up his neck, under his collar.

“The proposal,” Agnes said, waving her glass around them. “My accountant is never pleased when I’m meeting someone for business at the Baccarat because no one’s covering those kinds of expenses unless it’s for something big.”

“It was a social media merger, but I’m not interested,” Max confided, wrinkling his nose. “We’ve seen how dangerous it is when fools like me have too much control of those things.”

“You’ve always been careful and smart: no risky mergers for you!” She raised her glass and winked.

“What about you?” he asked, taking her arm. “Shouldn’t you be with that adorable wife and daughter of yours?”

Agnes sighed happily, her smile becoming even more radiant. She was obviously smitten and Max could tell when a woman was well-loved. “They’re just around the corner at Magnolia, picking up some muffins and treats. We’re on our way to a brunch, but I wanted to pop in and see if I could catch a friend.”

“Really?” Max asked, scanning around discreetly, hoping to catch a friend as well. “Anyone I know?”

“Who can say?” Agnes replied, her eyes taking on a brighter, more calculating sparkle as she smiled at Max. “He’s a regular here on the weekends, I’ve heard. I haven’t been able to catch up with him yet, but I think I just missed him this morning.”.

“Did you? Would have had you keeping an eye out if I knew you were on duty,” he added and her brows lifted.

“Oh? Something get away from you?”

“Not if I can help it,” he said, squinting at Agnes and wondering if she knew a “Wes,” then remembered who he was talking to. She might not know Max’s mysterious Wes, but she’d have every other detail ferreted out before she kissed him goodbye. “How’s your brother?” he asked and she shrugged.

“You know how Walker is, everything runs exactly according to his planner and he lives in the palms of his girls’ and Fin’s hands.”

“That’s…” Max felt a sharp pang of jealousy, despite being incredibly happy for his friend. Walker had endured a lot after losing his husband and Max had no idea what he’d do if he found himself raising toddler triplets alone. Not that Walker was ever truly alone in The Killian House, but that had made Max pity him more, having to carry the house, along with all the rest of the Cameron estate on his shoulders, while grieving his husband. “I’m so glad to hear it,” he said sincerely, dismissing the hint of bitterness. It happened whenever Max was reminded of how much he’d blown it with his own family.

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