“The staff is awesome. The place is busy—I had a steady stream of clients all day—and I made great tips. Veronica and a couple of the other girls took me to lunch at this amazing taco place down the street.”
He wandered back into the living room to discover her removing the green mask with some kind of clear liquid and a cotton pad. He put the “vase” on the coffee table. “Sounds perfect.”
“Yeah.” The wistful note in her response hung in the air as she finished wiping her face and then leaned forward and started arranging the flowers, unconsciously giving him a view down the front of her robe.
Speaking of perfect.
He caught himself drumming a nervous beat on his leg and forced his hand to still. “Want to celebrate a triumphant first day?”
“Sure.” Before he could guess her next move, she stood, slipped out of her robe and walked over until they stood mere inches apart. “Is this what you had in mind?”
“I was thinking dinner,” he admitted, before he leaned down and kissed her.
“Dinner can wait. I can’t.”
Chapter Sixteen
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“I don’t want to freak you out, Chloe, but I have to mention the L-word.”
Chloe used her shoulder to hold the phone to her ear and finished typing a note into a client file in the Veronica’s Oasis database. The low hum of conversation flowed around her as she sat in front of the computer at the spa’s front-desk area. Not loud, by any means, but she wasn’t sure she’d heard correctly. “What?”
Lynne laughed. “I checked in with Veronica earlier today and, it’s official. She’s in love with you.”
Chloe smiled, and waved to a departing client. “I’m awfully fond of her, too.” Three days on the job, and the spa already felt like…well…like home.
“No problems? No concerns? No funny business with your time cards?”
“None. Everyone is easygoing, but professional. This place runs very smoothly. It’s not a one-man operation, like Sempler’s clinic.”
“Good to hear. Now that I know the assignment is under control, let’s get to the really juicy stuff. How’s the rest of your life going?”
A memory of Michael bending her over the sofa and inspecting her “identification” popped into her mind and her heart did a tap dance in her chest. “Can’t complain. Michael brought me flowers Wednesday to celebrate my—”
“Oh! Oh…!”
Her friend sounded as if she were in the grip of a sharp pain. Chloe pressed the phone to her ear. “Lynne, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing…just a little heart palpitation over the flowers. The last time a man brought me flowers I was in the hospital, recovering from birthing his second oversize baby.”
“Jeez.” She let her breath hiss out. “Very funny. You scared the crap out of me.”
“But the flowers didn’t, which I find interesting. Any big plans with Major Hottie this weekend?”
For some reason she glanced around to make sure nobody was listening. Nobody was. “Not really. We’re just going to hang out. Relax.”
“Sounds cozy.”
“Yeah. I guess so. He mentioned taking me out to dinner.”
“Where?”
“There’s an Italian place he likes in Dana Point. Good food and a great view of the harbor.” She caught herself using her thumb to center her “engagement ring” on her finger. The move was becoming a habit. Funny, she’d never fussed with her real engagement ring overly much.
“So, this would be, like…a date?”
“Yeah right. I don’t date military men. You know this.”