“It does?” How much did Sebastian spend on me? There’s no amount on the card.
“Yes. Shall I book everything?”
I tap my fingers on the counter, pondering my answer for a few seconds. “Okay.”
I avoid thinking about Sebastian in the mani-pedi and the facial, but my will dissolves when I walk inside the massage room. I am naked except for a tiny thong beneath the towel I wrapped tightly around me. Andrew asks me to drop my towel and lie on my stomach on the massage table. He turns his back while I do as he says, and then he covers my butt with the towel. Well, I don’t feel less naked. He pours warm oil on my skin and begins to knead my flesh between his expert hands, and I forget all about shame.
“The neck area keeps giving me problems,” I tell him.
“I’ll concentrate on that.”
As I feel Andrew’s fingers on me, my mind flies to Sebastian’s strong hands. They’d make my entire body burn. His memory alone lights every nerve. His vivid, dark eyes haunt me, and soon I fantasize he’s with me in my hotel room, doing what Andrew does, only moving his hands much lower. I’d let that man do anything to me, and that’s a scary thought. Breathing hard against the towel, I curse aloud, making Andrew jump.
“Sorry, Andrew. I remembered I forgot something at the office,” I lie.
I cannot fantasize about Sebastian Bennett. At any rate, I don’t know much about him. He could be the ultimate playboy. He certainly has the looks for it. I learned early on not to trust men. Dad left Mom before I was even born, leaving her to fend for us both.
A dull ache hovers in my chest. It’s been nine years since she died, and I still miss her every day. While I grew up, it seemed so often that it was the two of us against the world. She never—to my knowledge at least—dated again. It’s not that she instilled in me to mistrust men, it’s that the men I’ve dated gave me reason not to trust them. I’ve always longed to h
ave a large family, but my two long-term relationships ended because the guys cheated on me, and blamed me and my job for it. Finding a decent man and counting on him seems like an impossibility, akin to comfortable high heels or sexy period panties. At thirty-one, I threw in the towel and only count on myself.
Sebastian seems to be every woman’s dream. He’s kind, thoughtful, and intense. Just remembering his piercing stare sends tendrils of heat low in my body. I need to get laid. Badly. It’s been an embarrassing number of months since I last had sex, and I know Sebastian’s proximity will be much easier to bear if I don’t have so much sexual tension bottled up inside me. It’d also be easier if the attraction was one-sided, but I saw how he looks at me. I take a deep breath. Four months. I have to resist for four months; then I’ll be gone.
I leave the massage room, take a wrong turn, and end up in an unfamiliar corridor.
“Excuse me,” I ask a cleaning lady who passes by. “Where is reception? I got lost.”
The woman, petite and in her forties, opens her mouth, but instead of answering, coughs. Furrowing my brow, I study her appearance. Her nose and eyes are puffy—signs of a cold or an allergy. Either way, she’s sick. She gives me directions in a low voice.
“Thank you. Are you okay? You’re very sick. You should take the day off.”
She shakes her head, her eyes widening. “Can’t afford it. I have two little kids back home. I’m much better now, though. I thought I’d collapse a few hours ago when I was waitressing. At least here it’s quiet.”
Gulping, I say, “Take care of yourself. What’s your name?”
“Nora.”
“Have a good day, Nora.” My voice is shaky, and the hair at the back of my neck stands on end as I make my way to the reception. Nora’s determination to give her kids the best and moonlight between jobs hits home too hard.
“Was everything all right?” the receptionist asks.
“Yes, but I want to ask you for a favor. You have a cleaning lady, Nora, who’s sick. Tell her to go home, and that you’ll pay her anyway.”
“Miss, the bosses won’t—”
“I’m paying for it. Here.” I put more bills on the counter than her wage must be, but I don’t care. In fact, I add more bills, struck by an idea. “Also, I want to buy her a gift card for a treatment of her choice here at the spa. Please tell her it’s on the house, though.”
“Why are you doing this, miss?”
I smile, remembering what my mother used to tell me. “Sometimes an act of kindness is enough to keep one going.”
***
“Let’s wrap this up. Good work, everyone,” I say three days later, smiling broadly. There is a sense of accomplishment as the marketing department and I leave the meeting room. I head to my office, glancing inside Sebastian’s as I pass. My stomach constricts slightly. He’s inside. I’ve kept my distance for the past few days, but knowing he works on the other side of the wall makes concentrating a chore. I’ve had the same dream the past two nights. I’m in the massage room again, only Andrew isn’t there. Instead, a man with dark eyes and full lips curled into a smile welcomes me, wearing nothing but a towel.
Around lunchtime, someone knocks at my door. I look up from my computer screen to find Sebastian standing in the doorway.
“Lunch?” he asks.