Max rolled his eyes and stood to leave. “I’ll think about it.”
“Where are you off to now?” Uncle Tony called out.
“Back to the office. I asked Miss Mary to call for a masseuse. My back is killing me,” Max replied. He remembered something else and stopped. “Uncle Tony, you should think about retiring Miss Mary soon. I swear to God she gets less lucid and more deaf every day.”
Uncle Tony guffawed. “I don’t have the heart. Mary’s been around since your dad’s time. Your mom will kill me if I let her go. She will probably outlive us all and end up owning the whole goddamn hospital,” Uncle Tony complained.
“I won’t be surprised,” Max retorted, grinning as he left the room and looking forward to the massage waiting for him back in his office.
Chapter THREE
Maxwell Saint stepped onto the cool tiled floor of a modern bathroom inside his spacious office, one of the many perks of being the top guy in the corporate ladder. He left a trail of wet footprints from the glass enclosure of his steam room and entered an adjoining treatment-cum-massage room. This area only became visible from his office at the touch of a hidden switch which allowed a false wall to slide open. A closer look inside this would reveal a wide selection of expensive scented candles lining one wall all chosen for their clean, woodsy, and spicy scent. A state of the art Murade Treatment table occupied the center of this private enclave.
Max set up the private quarters as a gift for himself on his 30th birthday. He then hired the services of a private therapist, Piedra. She was a tall bosomy brunette with false eyelashes so thick they rested just above her lower lids giving her a lethargic look. She later revealed to Max that her clients felt hypnotized as soon as she entered the room.
Max loved Piedra. She was a specialist in untangling the knots, lumps, and cramps in his muscles especially after a punishing round of golf. The fact that Piedra was gay and not interested in his body was a bonus. He felt free to be naked with just a small towel around his waist.
The only problem was tonight Piedra wasn’t available. She took the red eye last night to be with her mom who slipped in the tub and was in a coma. Piedra sent a message to Max who immediately asked Miss Mary to scout for a replacement therapist, reminding her that person to be in his office by 9 pm.
Max glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes past 9 PM already. He wondered where the therapist was. He approached the plush treatment table in the center of the room and sprawled on it face down. He was more tired than he thought as his eyelids felt heavy. He exhaled in relief when he heard a knock on his office door outside. He burrowed deeper into the Murade and called out “Come in.”
***
When Nurse Killian Church left Gilly of Room 405 in the early afternoon, she assumed the worst part of Gilly’s medical episode was over. Killian went about her regular tasks of administering medication and IV infusions on her other patients. She took stool and urine samples, recorded pulses, temperatures, and blood pressure and made assessments on the pre and post nursing care requirements for those on surgery schedules.
She was filling up a report for the next nurse on duty when she received a frantic call from Linda, asking her to go up to Room 405 stat.
Gilly was being restrained by two nurses as a doctor administered a sedative on the struggling nonagenarian. Gilly looked at her with wide panicked eyes, white hair in disarray, and her hospital robe torn in half. When the medication kicked in, Gilly’s frenetic struggles slowly eased as she closed her eyes to sleep.
Killian stood beside the medic at the foot of the bed as the doctor filled out Gilly’s chart.
“Her Alzheimer’s has gotten worse,” the doctor said softly, casting a look at the sleeping patient.
Killian sighed. She knew what that meant. At 92 years old, there wasn’t much any of them could do. It simply meant that the body was close to giving up and wreaking havoc on the brain. It would be so much easier if her heart just conked out in this sad game of living or dying. Her tablets were just to assist her brain cells to distinguish right from wrong, not necessarily to cure because, at her age, the disease was incurable.
Killian’s heart went out to the old woman. She realized that the hospital could only provide medical treatment. But Gilly’s psychological, emotional and mental needs were not necessarily a part of that. She would be better off in a nursing home whose specialty was caring for the whole package and not just her body.
Suddenly, owning and operating that abandoned cottage in the woods became tremendously important. The kind of facility she had in mind was exactly what Gilly needed. If things worked out well with her appointment tonight with the Chairman, she should be able to start operations on her facility shortly.
Gilly’s need became her motivation to forget all her apprehensions concerning tonight’s meeting. Killian knew she was never very good at making presentations, especially if it was for something she wanted. When she wanted anything for herself it always sounded shallow and selfish, like she didn’t deserve to have it.
Memories resurfaced of when she was a child and wanted a new dress. Mom said she would trim the grocery list so they could afford the dress. Or the crayons she dreamed about - 48 pieces in varying shades of the most wonderful colors she ever imagined. Mom said she could only afford the set of 12 because her sister was having a birthday soon and needed a gift more than she did. In both instances, Killian decided she didn’t really want what it was that she wanted. But it did leave a scar in her psyche that made her wary about desiring anything too much.
“But this is for Gilly,” she encouraged herself, glancing at the sleeping form on the bed.
She could feel the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of coming face to face with the man who ran the entire hospital. Without him knowing it, he held the power to make her dream come true. He had the power to help her provide for a better quality of life for elderly people like Gilly.
***
Killian stepped into the plush interiors of Maxwell Saint’s office on the top floor of the Medical Arts Building. The hallway leading to the double doors that was the office of Maxwell Saint was quite long. It made Killian wonder what was hidden behind the walls.
It boggled her mind how this edifice which she spotted every day when she came to work was as unfamiliar as the person she came to see.
She was accustomed to a hospital setting where every space was functional and accessible to both the nursing and medical staff as well as the patients and guests who frequented the building.
The Chairman’s office floor was so spacious that the hospital could house a couple of patients comfortably within. The carpeting on the floor was thick it muffled her footsteps as she entered. The office appeared to be empty. That was odd because when she knocked, a voice from inside told her to enter. Then she noticed muted lighting streaming from a smaller chamber within.
Killian approached and stopped in sudden surprise. A man was lying face down on a treatment table inside. Both his arms hung down on each side of the table, face partially buried in the face hole. Dark brown hair still damp from the shower was a riot of curls that cascaded in waves, just above his shoulder. Killian could imagine the rich texture of his hair was a product of daily salon visits. She made a guess that this person either rocked a man bun, ponytail, half-up with locks loose and swept-back, whenever the mood struck him.
A towel was wrapped around his waist, and Killian was certain he was naked underneath it.
Killian was confused as she stood there gawking. She wondered if she made a mistake and entered the wrong office.
The man on the treatment table lifted his head partially and said in a muffled voice.
“Can you please light the cider scented soy candle and grab the argan oil. I prefer you use that one on me.”
What?
Killian’s confusion turned to panic.
Mary, the Board Secretary never mentioned giving anyone a massage. She was here to talk about the cottage in the woods. Why was
he asking for a massage? Did he know about her reputation with the senior citizens at the hospital who raved about her healing massages? That was possible. The hospital grapevine was a rich source of gossip.
“Ahem,” Killian cleared her throat, “Miss Mary asked me to come tonight…”
“Yeah…I requested her to.” He interrupted her with a hint of impatience.
He lifted an arm and pointed to the wall of glass jars with candles inside. Killian assumed he wanted her to light a candle. That was reasonable. Most spas used scented candles for added relaxation. But they weren’t in a spa. This was to be a business meeting.
But Killian needed some distraction so she approached the wall and did as he requested. She lit the soy candle then grabbed the argan oil then proceeded towards the prone figure.
“Did Miss Mary discuss the terms…”
“I have done this before, you know. Don’t worry I got you covered. You’re not going away empty-handed.” He replied and this time the annoyance was clear.
“Oh, thank God,” she rejoiced inwardly. He was going to approve her request even if this was a weird tradeoff.
Alarmed that she had made him wait and he was getting impatient, she approached nearer.
“I’m sorry I am making you wait too long. It’s just I wasn’t expecting…” Killian tried to explain.
He cut her short and retorted curtly, “I am sorry this was short notice. I appreciate you coming at such a late hour. But if you give me what I need right now, I’ll give you what you need later. I hope that’s clear enough for you.”
It was more than clear. Her chances of getting what she came for tonight would only increase after she gave him a good massage. It was an unusual exchange but if a massage was what he needed then she would gladly give him one. Who was she to know how powerful people conducted their business?
She poured the argan oil and slathered it all over her palms
She approached the prone figure lying face down and started to work on his shoulders. The healer-nurse in her came to the fore as she felt the tight knots around his shoulder and neck area. Massage was an art she was comfortable with. This was her territory.
Her fingers had a mind of their own as she stroked across the bulging muscles exerting deep pressure on layers of muscle tissue with varying degrees of firmness appropriate for each muscle type.
“He has a beautiful body,” a wayward thought occurred.
She immediately squashed it - shocked - because that kind of musing had no place in this current situation.
You’ve done this so many times in the past, her conscience chided.
"Yeah, but mostly to patients with old wrinkly skin made blotchy with age spots", her mind countered. "Not this kind of consistent even skin tone that is so clear I can actually see the peaks and valleys," she countered silently.
"Shut up," her conscience said.
"Okay," Killian silently obeyed.
To keep her mind from going astray, she enumerated in her head the muscle groups that composed his back – trapezius, deltoids, dorsi, obliques, the gluteus maximus that was his ass…
She applied long stretching strokes on the superficial layers of his butt.
He moaned softly in pleasure. Killian was taken aback by the sound that her fingers momentarily ceased.
“Don’t stop, please,” she heard him say.
As a nurse, Killian was used to probing body parts and applying nursing care. She never had any issues about touching. But there was something erotic and sensual emanating from his lips in response to her attention.
She massaged him lower down his thighs and leg applying all the techniques she learned that earned her a certificate in Massage and Acupressure. Her skillful fingers combined active and passive movements down both thighs to the back of his knees all the way to the masculine calves before reaching his feet.
Then it was time for him to turn over.
“There is an eye mask in the drawer near the candles. Can you get it for me, please? The light hurts my eyes,” he explained.
Killian walked over to where the candles were and saw the drawer. She opened it and spotted the silk eye mask. She handed it to him. He immediately slipped it on before turning over and blindly facing her.
Her stomach did a backflip when she saw the rest of his features.
Except for his eyes that were concealed in a mask, the rest of his face was there for her to behold. And she didn’t even have to do it surreptitiously because he couldn’t see her gawking at him. She was certain he had thick natural eyebrows, high cheekbones, a patrician nose, and full lips.
Killian wasn’t a fan of fitness centers but she knew with certainty this man’s chest had to be the product of the best abdominal machines the market had to offer.
"Who does that? He looks like he’s been photoshopped. Life is so unfair." She thought to herself.
“Can we please resume the session?” Killian heard him say
She scampered guiltily toward him as she reproached herself for her errant thoughts. She made a mental note to be more professional as she began her routine focusing on different parts of the body using the healing approaches she learned in school. She set about rubbing and kneading his body using her hand as she applied gentle or strong pressure to the muscles and joints.
She tried her best to ignore the sounds of pleasure emanating from his lips as she approached the final stages of her therapy session. The noise he was making was wreaking havoc on her concentration. She was glad it was over as she leaned down low over his ear and whispered, “We’re done.”
She left the cubicle and gave him privacy. She assumed he would put on his clothes and join her outside to discuss the business she came up here for.
He followed her outside almost immediately with only the towel hitched low over his waist. Killian followed his progress, confused as to why he still hadn’t bothered to put on his clothes. Did he conduct business matters half-naked?
He strolled onto his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a checkbook. He sauntered to where she sat and took the seat opposite her.
“Who do I make the check to? Mary didn’t say if you work privately or connected to a company? If it is with a company, I’d gladly write a separate check personally to you as your gratuity.”
“W-what? I’m sorry I don’t understand what you mean.” Killian stammered.
“Your fee for tonight’s session. Who do I make the check out to?” He asked more slowly this time like she was some daft woman.
“I’m not charging you anything for that session,” Killian replied.
“Why?” He asked in confusion. “It is not fair for me not to pay you. You came here and you’re actually very good at what you do,” he complimented her.
“I came here because Miss Mary said you were going to be here tonight and I should take my chances that you would discuss the cottage with me,” Killian explained, then added, “When I saw you on the treatment table I thought you knew I give massages and wanted one as an exchange deal before giving me access to the cottage.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Max asked, and then added, “You’re not the therapist I asked Mary to be here tonight?”
They stared at one another in confusion before the truth slowly dawned on them.
“Oh, Jesus,” Killian drew back into her seat, mouth wide open.
“Son of a…,” Max muttered as he gathered the towel around his waist and ran into the bathroom.
He emerged a few minutes later fully dressed running his fingers through his hair looking like someone who has just received a death sentence.
Killian was disheartened. She knew it was all for nothing. Everything was a mix-up. She wasn’t getting the cottage tonight if she were to gauge the look of confusion on the Chairman’s face. He was probably as embarrassed as she was. She stood to go.
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I-I’ll leave you alone now.”
She walked quickly to the door hoping to make a hasty retre
at.
“Stay,” he said.
It wasn’t a request. It was a command.
Chapter FOUR
Killian wished she had a sedative in her pocket. She would gladly administer it to Maxwell Saint, Chairman of the Maxwell Saint Sr. Memorial Hospital. The man just got more and more agitated each time he asked a question and she answered.
“You mean to say you work here? You actually work here? You are someone under my employ?” He asked successively, stressing every word like she was hard of hearing.
Kilian nodded.
The Boss's Fiance Box Set Page 49
