We spend the next three hours being pampered. I’ve enjoyed every second of it, except maybe for the bikini wax. Now we’re both sitting in massage chairs waiting for our nails to finish drying.
“God, that massage was to die for,” Mandy moans next to me as if it was still happening.
“It really was. I could get addicted to this,” I say, agreeing with her.
“Better get used to it. The boys spend a lot of time here, so I’m sure you will too. They hardly leave this casino.”
I wonder how close Mandy is to them. Maybe now that she is relaxed and has a few glasses of champagne, I could try to pull some info about them from her. That is what girls do at the spa, right? Gossip?
“Why’s that?” I question and try to sound as casual as I can, like I don’t really care if she answers the question. Just making conversation. It’s only natural, right? It’s the one thing we both have in common.
“They are like me, workaholics, but I think they will start to slow down now.”
I feel butterflies take flight in my stomach. It’s all the little things clicking into place. The comments from both Aaron and Justin and now Mandy. It all seems to point to them wanting to be with me. For something more permanent.
I decide to bite the bullet. Just ask what I want to know.
“Do you know they bought me in the Mistress Auction?”
“Yes, it’s my job to know almost everything they do. It’s what makes me good at my job.” She turns and looks at me. “And I love them, that’s also why I keep a good eye on them.”
My heart freezes at her words, but once again her face is warm, not filled with jealousy. It’s like that every time she looks at me. She likes me. Her love for them has to be affectionate and platonic.
“They want you. I see it in the way they talk about you. You're special to them. I think you’ll make them happy. You already have. Since you walked into their lives they seem to have come alive. The past few years have been dull. Something was missing for them, and I think they’ve found it. More importantly, they think they’ve found it.”
The butterflies take full flight now.
“They knew I’d be there last night at the auction, didn’t they?” I say. It’s not a question, really, because I already know the answer, but she nods, confirming what I thought. There was too much in place.
They must have found out I’d be there somehow. In an odd kind of way it’s sweet. Almost like they came in and swooped me away, and were willing to pay ten million dollars to do so. Just to finally get their date with me.
The nail lady comes back in to help me get my shoes back on. I got a color that matches my dress nicely. I wonder if we have plans tonight or something. My make-up and hair are fully done, and it’d be a shame to waste it.
Mandy’s ringing phone draws my attention back to her. She's signing a slip of paper for a member of the spa staff, and she deftly juggles her phone and the pen.
“Ms. Burch speaking,” she says in a professional tone. It seems like the phone is glued to her hand.
“Hello? Hello?” she repeats before canceling the call, a worried look on her face.
“Everything okay?” I ask, seeing that’s she’s somewhat disconcerted by the call.
“Yeah, someone just keeps calling but they never respond when I answer.” Doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but I can tell this bothers her.
“You sure you're okay?” I try again, not used to seeing the unflappable and unfazeable Mandy discomfited.
“Everything is perfect. I just need to clear out a few things. I'm sure my Inbox is overflowing by now,” she responds, a mask slipping back into place.
“Yeah, I'm sure you have a ton to do. I'll leave you to it. I know my way back to the room.”
“Are you sure? It's a big casino and it’s easy to get lost. I can walk you.”
“No, it's fine. I remember the way,” I reassure her.
“I had a wonderful time today. I hope we can do it again soon.”
Nodding my head, I agree. “I'd really like that.” It was wonderful. I lost touch with so many of my friends when most of them went off to college. I don't have any girlfriends anymore. My closest friend at the moment is Tim, who doesn't really care to even talk. He more grunts his responses. It's sad when a twenty-year-old girl’s closest friend is a forty-five-year-old man.
I leave Mandy standing in the spa, typing away on her Blackberry. I didn’t even know people’s fingers could move that fast. I make my way back to the elevator that goes up to our room. Warmth floods my stomach at the idea of the room being ours.