At this point, that was the best that I could hope for. At least she wasn't cursing me out, because that was also an option. There was a knock at the door and then it opened. Two women walked in, both blondes, one much taller than the other. The taller one came to me, while the shorter one went to Missy. One of them turned on music, something that was definitely meant to set the mood for a couple in love about to have a romantic experience together. The woman touched my back and ran her oiled hands up and down my skin.
Whoa. I was not expecting it to feel that good. I had never had a massage before, not this kind, just the sports injury-related type. A massage just to pamper yourself and feel good? I was rich, why hadn't I done this before? I inadvertently let out a moan as the woman ran her hands over my lower back. I heard Missy laugh.
“Does that feel good?” she asked. No, it didn't just feel good. I had died and gone to heaven.
14
Artemis
He was right about that; I didn’t think it was typical to be able to get massages on the job. Back when I had all the time in the world to spend in spas, I had spent it there. Before the demands of my job made it so I couldn’t make it to my weekly massage, manicure, and pedicure, I attended the spa religiously. There was nothing else that I had to do urgently. My entire life was a series of leisure activities, so it made sense that a lot of that was spent in various spas having people rub me down. I actually almost thought of it as an investment. My image was basically my job back when I didn’t have a job.
It still was but in a different way. At this point in my life, with people watching me, my image had become a part of my portfolio. I was used to people judging me on I how I looked, so I guess it was just the next natural step that I turned it into the way that I made money. The last time that I had been to this spa before this, was probably six weeks ago. That would have been unthinkable to me just a few months ago. It was funny how people changed. I was grateful for all the changes, but if there was a version of events where I could keep my weekly spa days, I wanted that timeline.
I was so relaxed I almost forgot about Easton on the massage table just a couple of feet away from me groaning through his own massage. I wanted to laugh. It was clear that he had never experienced something like this before which just didn’t make sense to me. There was the gender thing since a lot of guys felt iffy about spas but that couldn’t have been the whole reason. His life just didn't make sense. Any other person in his position, with the amount of money that he had, would make the most of it. It was New York City, it made sense that he didn't have a fleet of sports cars somewhere but that wasn't the only way he could enjoy his money. I was starting to resign myself to the fact that I would probably never understand him.
In about an hour, I would have to go. I let it go. I sunk into the table and enjoyed the woman's hands on my back. Granted, I didn't have the most stressful job brush a little rest and relaxation was always welcome. I managed to quickly forget that this was technically a couple's massage. I got so sucked into it that I almost dozed off. Even with Easton right there, I was totally relaxed, even thinking back on what had happened at the suit shop. He had worked me harder than any client before him, and not in the ways I was used to. I deserved to have this massage on his dime. When it came to an end, both of the women helped us dress and presented us with glasses of sparkling water.
“The water is flown in directly from Alsace,” my masseuse said.
“What's that?” Easton asked. I snuck a peek at his body as he got into his robe. He was very hot considering the way he presented himself which was abysmal. People said that the last components to a good outfit were a handsome face and beautiful body and I believed that was true. Looking at Easton, he had both even though he capitalized on neither.
“Just drink it,” I said.
“When you're ready, we will make our way to the nail station,” the masseuse said.
“Oh wait, the what?” Easton asked again.
“Nails. We're doing mani-pedis next.”
“I don't need that.”
“What kind of nail care have you done in your life, besides gnawing your fingernails off like a wild animal?” He smirked and shrugged his shoulders.
“If it works it works.”
I shook my head, he didn’t even bother denying it. What was it like living like that? Having not a care in the world for your appearance? At the nail station, we were seated and instructed to put our feet into foot baths.
“So how does this work?” Easton asked.
“You don’t do anything. Just stick your feet in the water.” Our manicurists came and our hands went into water baths next.
“Are you telling me I just have to not use my hands?”
“Well, what are you using your hands for right now?” I asked him.
“I don’t know about this crap. I hope you don’t expect me to actually keep this up.”
“After all my hard work, you better.” He laughed and settled down.
“Do you really do this all the time?” he asked as his manicurist pushed his cuticles back.
“All this and more,” I told him. “Next time, I’ll book you for a facial and full seaweed wrap.”
“You see, that is the stuff I just don’t understand. How can you pay someone to turn you into a sushi roll? What kind of health benefits is that even supposed to have?”
I laughed at his remark. I had never heard of someone refer to seaweed wraps as turning into a sushi roll. “Half the reason is the health benefits, like the detoxification and the other half is relaxation. I mean, think about it, since you were a baby, have you ever had the luxury of lying down and having another person pamper you?”
“I see,” he said. “So, it’s like some sort of fetish thing for people who miss being babies and want to have their diapers changed or something like that?”