I shrugged it off and rose to greet her as she approached. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but her eyes danced around the room as if they were taking everything in.
“Sadie,” I said in way of greeting.
“Jeremiah.” She nodded, barely looking at me.
I sat back down as she plopped her duffel bag on the floor with a thud. She didn’t join me in sitting down at the armchair next to me. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and did a slow spin. I watched her curiously.
“I knew first-class lounges were nice, but this…this is crazy,” she said.
I chuckled to myself. Ifthisimpressed her, imagine what she would think of the private jet I almost chartered.
“What?” she asked, looking at me sharply.
“Nothing.” I waved her off.
“Nothing impresses you, does it?” she queried, shaking her head.
“Not when I’ve been here too many times to count.”
“Well, ‘Mr. I’m Too Cool’ care to give me a tour?” She raised an arched brow.
I laughed through my nose. She was feeling a little feisty this morning. I stood up and gestured for her to follow me. I led her through the separate business lounge, a large room that was lined with modern dark wood desks and gold-domed lamps. Each desk had its own outlets for charging laptops and phones.
“This is the business lounge,” I said.
“Self-explanatory,” said Sadie, stepping next to me and poking her head in. I breathed in her perfume and tensed at the very few inches between us. It didn’t seem to faze her as she pulled her head out and said, “Next.”
I looked at her in amusement before leading her to the next spot on the tour. The spa. I pushed open the large glass door and led her inside the lobby. I was immediately hit with the smell of eucalyptus and the sound of trickling water. The walls were painted a calming sage green, and a large, circular table sat in the middle of the room with a large vase of lilies. A pair of women in white fuzzy robes and slippers were booking their next treatment at the front desk.
“Wait, there’s aspa?” asked Sadie, whipping her head toward me, her green eyes wide.
“Yep. You can get a massage, a facial, a manicure, pedicure, body wraps. Anything you need. Between treatments, you can use the sauna or the steam room. It’s pretty much a full-service spa.”
“Seems like you know the services quite well,” she said curiously.
“Like I said, I’ve been here a hundred times.”
“For a mani/pedi?” she asked with a smirk.
“I’ve dabbled.”
“You, Jeremiah Mason, have sat in a pedicure chair.”
“Doesn’t make me any less of a man,” I said confidently, my voice dropping an octave.
Sadie bit back a laugh that part of me longed to hear, her smile reaching her eyes and lighting them up. It was a sight I wanted to take a mental snapshot of. When she caught my gaze, her freckled cheeks reddened before she turned away.
“Where to next?” she asked, walking toward the door that led out of the spa.
I led her down the hall toward the bar and restaurant, tempted to put my hand on the small of her back, but I refrained.
“This place just goes on and on…” she murmured.
“You hungry?” I asked as we stopped outside the restaurant, nodding toward the menu. She looked past the typed-out offerings of decadent pancakes and eggs benedict, toward the dim room lined with forest green booths and white tablecloth-adorned tables. The bar to the right of the restaurant glowed with golden light from the overhead glass pendant lights. The shelves just behind the warm wood countertop were lined with glass liquor bottles.
“Do we have time?” she asked, looking up at me.
“Sure,” I said with a wink, seeing the awe in her eyes.
