She air-dried her hands, then grabbed her clothes and turned toward the stalls. Before she could blink, she ran smack into a customer. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“My fault.”
Brianne took a step back and found herself face-to-face with the woman who usually sat with her fantasy man. Her dark hair was layered and razored in the most up-to-date style. The shaglike cut was perfect with her lightly made-up face and trendy clothes.
The woman certainly didn’t look as if she’d spent the day massaging other people’s body parts, Brianne thought, glancing down at her own scrubs. Then she looked at her watch and groaned before meeting the other woman’s appraising gaze. “Excuse me. I’m running late.” Brianne started for the open stall.
“Can we talk first?”
The other woman’s voice stopped Brianne cold, and she pivoted fast. “Excuse me?” Her heart beat more quickly.
They had nothing in common, nothing to discuss—except him. She’d done nothing wrong, Brianne assured herself. Yet the thoughts and fantasies she’d spun about a man she’d never met were enough to make her—a woman who’d seen men and women in varying degrees of nakedness during patient therapy—blush.
But no one she’d seen in patient therapy had even remotely resembled him. He was every inch a potent, sexy male who allowed her the freedom to feel like a woman, to test her limits and flirt without fear of anything more coming of it, because he was involved and she was too busy—which made him safe. Or so she thought.
“Hey, are you okay? I don’t want you to faint on me,” the woman said with concern.
Brianne nodded. “I’m fine,” she said, embarrassment and shame filling her. Her fantasy man had a girlfriend who wanted to talk. Brianne had witnessed that hug between them last night with a pang of envy she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling. But it served to remind her that he was spoken for. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” she said again. “Thank you. It’s just that I’m running very late. My boss…”
“Is a great guy. He said we could take a minute when you got in.”
Brianne shook her head. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I really need to get to work. Jimmy’s wonderful, but he can’t compensate for the tips.”
“I understand much more than you think. I come here often.”
“I know.” Brianne could have bitten her tongue for that admission.
“Yes, well, I don’t want you to think I’m rude, or that I was eavesdropping, but…” She shrugged, and a sheepish grin lifted her lips. “I was eavesdropping. Last night. I heard you tell Jimmy how tired you were and how much you wished you could afford to get off your feet. And then he reminded you how much you want to move with your brother when he starts Stanford in the fall.”
“And you’d like to put me on the first plane west?” Brianne asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes. No.” The woman let out a laugh. “I’d better just explain.”
Brianne wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear. If this woman thought Brianne was poaching on her boyfriend, she’d probably attempt to make California look good. Which it did—a new start for both her brother and herself. Physical therapy in a warmer climate, Brianne thought. Normal hours. Friends. A life.
She sighed. She’d sent résumés, but so far she hadn’t had much luck. Either she’d been turned down flat or the salaries offered didn’t come close to New York City’s. Brianne had to be picky if she wanted to pay off Marc’s boarding school loans and her own debts.
But reality aside, Brianne had a dream job in mind. A place she’d applied and still hadn’t heard back from. If the Special Kid Ranch offered her placement, she hoped she could afford to take it. Working with children had always been her goal, one she hadn’t been able to fulfill because the geriatrics job she’d gotten right out of school paid so well. Brianne didn’t hold out much hope that the Ranch offer would come or be any better than those she’d had so far. She and Marc would be separated for the first time in both their lives—which was probably best for her brother’s college experience, but still…
“Are you with me?”
Brianne blinked. “Yes. Sorry.” She had so much on her mind these days, it was a wonder she functioned at all. Brianne refocused on the woman before her.
“I’d say we should sit and talk, but…” The other woman glanced around, taking in the tiled floor and single stall, and she grinned. “Well, you see the problem there. But just hear me out. I’ve got a proposition that I guarantee you won’t be able to refuse.”
CHAPTER TWO
BRIANNE STEPPED into the ornate lobby of the luxury building on the East Side of Manhattan. A uniformed doorman met her at the entrance and greeted her with a welcoming smile. “Hello, Miss Nelson.”
Brianne paused, surprised the older man remembered her. She’d only met him once before, when she’d visited Rina earlier in the week. Brianne paused to take in the name on his badge before answering. “Hello, Harry.” She smiled in return.
He tipped his head and ushered her toward the private elevator leading exclusively to the penthouse, then he punched the button and illuminated the up arrow.
While waiting, Brianne glanced around her. Glass and chrome gleamed brightly, showing off her reflection from every possible angle. She had to admit, the impact of the ornate lobby hadn’t diminished on second viewing.
“You’ll get used to it, miss.”
The doorman’s unexpected words told Brianne she looked as stunned as she felt. “I doubt it,” she murmured. Not after living on bare necessities for so long. But she had no choice, seeing as how she’d be living here throughout the summer.