“Yes, I believe I have an appointment. Eva?” I fidgeted, unsure.
“Ah, yes. We’ve been expecting you. Your boyfriend was very explicit that he wanted you totally relaxed. He booked the works. If you don’t mind me saying, he’s a real looker, that one. You’re a lucky girl.”
I blushed. Hearing him referred to as my boyfriend for the first time just turned the real up a notch. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you.”
“Ready to get started?”
“Sure.” I couldn’t stop the grin from splitting my face.
Holy hell, this was amazing.
Delicately, she worked her fingers into every tension point my coiled body harbored, until I felt like a numb ball of jelly. It was like lying on a cloud, all pressure and tightness melting through the table beneath me and seeping out through the floor. She massaged my scalp, my nape, and every bone in my body, from my fingers down to my toes. When she finished, I needed to physically recall how to work my limbs, and it took me a while to get to my feet.
“Take your time, dear. No rush.”
“That was fantastic. Thank you.” I rolled my neck around on my shoulders, amazed at how loose it felt.
“You’re very welcome.” She turned away momentarily as I sat up, holding the sheet to my chest.
“I believe this is for you.” She held a long stemmed rose in her hand, the same familiar card dangling below its petals.
My heart fluttered as I took the flower from her. “Thank you,” I said shyly. I let the card slide between my fingers for a moment before I flipped it open, and she quietly backed out of the room.
From the moment I tapped on those pretty, manicured fingers, I wondered what they’d look like on my skin.
What I’ve imagined them doing is something close to a sin.
When I picture even that small piece of you, my heart swells.
Hurry, or you’ll be late for your appointment at Spa Belles.
Spa Belles. With the corner of my mouth tipped up in a smile, I hopped down from the table, anxious to get to my next destination.
My body was so loose and relaxed, I felt like I didn’t have a care in the world. My brain felt empty and free of negativity for the first time in what felt like forever. That was priceless to me.
The door chimed, and an Asian woman looked up from the counter. The hesitant look on my face must have given away my identity. Each person I encountered seemed like they couldn’t wait to meet the girl behind the rose.
“Eva?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She smiled broadly. “Nice to see you. Come with me. Pedicure or manicure first?”
“Manicure, please.”
Propping me in a chair, she offered me a cup of coffee, which I declined. I was above the clouds, soaring on Blake. I didn’t need a synthetic high.
I imagined he was sitting back, picturing me following his notes, all proud of himself, his dimpled smile highlighting his sparkling eyes. The muscles in my belly drew inward at the thought. Who did this on a first date? Or any date for that matter. The man was gold.
Between the massage at the spa and the hand and leg massage during my manicure and pedicure, I’d been thoroughly rubbed and scrubbed.
The pedicurist helped me down, and led me to the drying area. I fidgeted in my seat, always restless to just sit idle and dry. When she returned, she slid a clear container in front of me and placed a long-stemmed rose diagonally across the top. A proud smile donned her lips, and then she left me to read my note in private.
Make sure that you have lunch,
So your fingers you don’t munch.
Though by now you’re probably wishing I’d sent you a butler,
Finish your meal and head over to Cutler.
I looked down at the grilled chicken sandwich and French fries inside the plastic. A salt packet was taped to the lid, and I smiled inwardly, knowing it was definitely placed there on purpose.
It was coming up on three o’clock, and I was getting nervous about the time, but I trusted Blake knew what he was doing and wouldn’t leave me scrambling to get ready later. I was pretty sure Cutler was a hair salon and that made me a little nervous. Maybe I hadn’t mentioned to him how highly I coveted my hair. I didn’t trust it in the hands of just anyone.
A cheerful, elegant looking man greeted me. “Hello, young lady. What can I do for you?”
“Hi. My, um, boyfriend—booked me an appointment, I believe.” Those words felt foreign on my tongue and made me slightly uncomfortable.
“Ah, Eva. I’ve been waiting patiently to meet you. You’re as beautiful as he said you are.”
My hand swept up to the messy bun pulled on top of my head, and I blushed. “You’re being kind. I’m a mess right now.”