I can guaran-fucking-tee it wouldn’t have been this.
Before I can insert any kind of argument, the nail tech pulls the light and inspects her work.
“I’ll get you checked out up front,” she says, scooching her chair back.
Flustered past the point of summoning words, I brush past Noah without so much as a glance and make a point to pay for the manicure with my own card, even though I doubt he can see from where he’s standing.
Noah is quiet as the four of us make our way to the locker rooms and though Tom and Cheryl share a smooch before parting ways, I turn without a word.
It isn’t until Cheryl strips nude and dons a fluffy white robe that I realize I’m going to be lying naked in a room with Noah only a few feet away. I suppose it’s a good thing he pulled the whole credit card thing, because suddenly sleeping with him is dead last on a very long list of things I want to do to him.
As I shove my things into one of the empty lockers, I fume. How could he do this? Handing me his personal card without any sort of explanation makes his assurance this morning nothing but a bold faced lie. Business stipends go on corporate cards, and I know sure as shit he wouldn’t have handed Amyaccess to his own money. I stand in front of one of the mirrors and pull my hair up into a messy bun at the top of my head, frowning at how easily I fell into this trap of allowing someone to pull something like this. I consider calling Kara to vent, but something whispers she might be sympathetic to the wrong party.It’s just a dress, Lottie, she’ll say.You’re being dramatic.
Yes, well it was just a pair of shoes with Axel, and I should have been more dramatic then. I don’t need any more experience to prove it’s only a few extravagant gifts from dependency.
Wrapped in my robe, I follow the signage pointing towards the spa and exit into the hallway. Expensive hotel art and the faint trickling of what I assume to be a fountain bid me further into the luxurious labyrinth until I reach a quiet waiting room. Soft, floral print sitting chairs line one side and on the other is a table holding two jugs of water—one with cucumbers floating in it and the other with varied citrus. Cheryl and Tom are sitting near it, whispering back and forth with their foreheads pressed together. She throws her head back in a playful laugh and pats his arm.
Noah stands on the far side, barefoot with a water bottle in his hand. His smile falters when I walk in and take a sharp left to find a chair on the opposite side of the room.
“Tom and Cheryl?”
An attendant stands at the opening of another hallway, and our hosts follow her. I’m not sure if it’s the flash of fear that bites through my anger, or something else, but Noah seems to notice something is off and crosses the room. He sinks into the chair next to me. I keep my eyes trained on the carpet as he leans close to whisper.
“Hey, I’m really sorry.”
“You seem to be saying that a lot,” I bite.
Before he can respond, the same attendant calls from the hallway.
“Charlotte and Noah?”
I shove up from the chair and march towards her, offering a tight lipped smile. She leads us back through a maze of hallways before stopping in front of a plain oak door.
“Your masseurs will be in shortly. Go ahead and strip down, get on the tables, and cover up with the sheet.”
When the door clicks shut, leaving us in a dark room smelling of eucalyptus, Noah continues his apology.
“I’m sorry. And I know all I’ve been doing is apologizing to you. I don’t know how this shit keeps happening. But Tom was far too gone to talk out of this nonsense, and then when Cheryl practically squealed with delight, there wasn’t much I could do to gracefully bow out.”
I close my eyes and inhale deep, holding it for a moment before releasing. The calming environment is doing little for the storm of complications I’m weathering.
“I can leave if you want to have the massage alone.”
“And risk facing those two and their inevitable questions when they see me by myself after? No way, buddy. You’re doing this. Besides that’s not even why I’m upset. Or I suppose it’s not theonlyreason I’m upset.”
Noah frowns, and it’s infuriatingly adorable. “What’s wrong?”
“Noah and Charlotte?” The door cracks open and we both cry out, the sound of it damning.
“We need five more minutes,” I say, my cheeks warming with the knowledge they probably think we are . . . compromised.
“No problem. We’ll be back.”
I turn to my companion and frown. “Turn around.”
He does, and I strip the robe off before scrambling up onto one of the tables. After assuring the sheet is tucked securely, I stick my face into the head support.
“Your turn.”
