“Goddamn, that feels good.”
“Mhm,” she says softly. “I’m glad. It’s about time someone took care of you.”
How does she know that I’m the one always running the show? Somehow, she knows I never let anyone take care of me.
I don’t respond.
“I can tell by the worry lines on your brow,” she says softly. Her lips brush against my forehead. “The tension in your shoulders. The tightness in your back.”
Slowly, the strain seeps out of my body while she kneads the knots out of my muscles.
“You’re good at this,” I murmur, half asleep. “How do you know how to do this?”
“Oh, it’s just a skill I picked up along the way, I guess. Comes with the whole sex worker thing, you know.”
She won’t ever touch another man again.
“Ah, there it is. See how you tense your muscles up like that when I make even a passing reference to another man?”
“Go ahead, keep teasing me, see where that lands you.”
I love the sweet sound of her giggle. “No, I think I’m good for now, but thanks.”
For long minutes, she massages me in silence. The faintest sound of running water lulls me to near sleep.
“Is that white noise?”
My eyes are closed. “Yeah. It plays during massages.”
“Ah.”
The sudden obnoxious blare of my phone cuts through the stillness like the scream of a siren.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath. With a sigh, I sit up and pull my robe back on. “We should get back to the room anyway, there’s a full day ahead of us tomorrow.”
I take the call. Thayer.
“Hey. There’s been an arrest at La Maison.” He fills me in on the details.
“This couldn’t wait until the morning?” It’s not out of the ordinary for one of our clients to be picked up. Some of themen who frequent our establishment don’t always have the best behavior. “So, it was only a client.” I stifle a yawn.
“Not a client, Fabien.”
I’m suddenly wide awake. “Who was it?”
“One of the new girls. Seems there was an officer following her. Set her up. Made an appointment as one of the clients, then arrested her.”
La Maisonitself is nearly bulletproof. Ostensibly, we’re merely a bed and breakfast. But if one girl was arrested…
“I’ll take care of it.” I make a few calls to post bail and get my lawyer on board.
“We’ll have to fly back to Corsica immediately following the wedding.” I tell Nicolette what happened. She doesn’t know the girl but is obviously concerned.
“So he went after the worker, not the client,” she says, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.” I can tell she’s as angry as I am.
“Do we have to wait until after the wedding to go?”
“I’m sorry, but yes.” She doesn’t know how loyalty works in a family like mine. “But I promise we’ll go straight back afterward. We’ll leave as soon as possible.”
