Page 7 of Worth Loving You

“Ugh. This lady came in earlier, whinin’ ‘bout her hair all fried and dead cuz she did a home bleach, and wanted me to make it all better. I mean, I ain’t no magician. I can’t make the hair healthy once you done killed it.”

Removing the cork from the wine, I chugged straight from the bottle, knowing she wouldn’t drink any. I found Milo’s business card in my bag, got my cellphone, and dialed the number.

“Hi, I’m looking for Mr. Pampinella.”

“This is him, who is this?”

My pulse quickened, picturing light gray eyes sparkling with mischief, his hand on my wrist, his face in my cleavage.

Coughing, I stammered, “I’m…Chazzy M-Monroe. You asked me to call you tonight?”

“You’re going to have to narrow it down. I’ve had quite the busy day.”

Why did this piss me off so much? I shouldn’t be surprised I was just another blurred face in his routine. “Um, ahem. Th-The masseuse.”

There was a slight pause. “Oh,” he muttered, dragging the word out. “Well, I have been waiting for you to call. You have any openings for me?”

I put him on speaker and set the phone on the table, flipping through a few pages. “Well, are you interested in coming back to the spa or—”

“No, no. I’ll need you to come to me.”

“That’s right. I forgot. My private locations are Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. I’m booked for tomorrow, but I have most of Saturday open. On Thursday, I have a slot in the morning and one in the afternoon.”

“Which one gives me more time with you?”

Jennifer froze with a forkful of spinach pork stir fry in her mouth. Her lids rounded, she slowly pulled the utensil out, blinking rapidly.

“Uhm.” I averted my gaze to focus on the pages. “Uh…S-Saturday, like I said—”

“I don’t want to wait until Saturday. You sure you don’t have anything tomorrow?”

“No, sir. Would you like Thursday morning?”

“Yes.”

I tugged the pen out the strap and scribbled his name. “Okay. I have you down for Thursday at nine in the morning. Do you have any preference as far as oils, scents, etc?”

“No, just you.”

She choked on her food, dropping the fork to gawk.

Clearing my throat yet again, I squirmed on the cushion, scratching behind my ear with the pen. “So, what, just a repeat of today?”

“Today was fucking amazing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Whatever you did today, that is what I want Thursday.”

I tapped the end of the pen to close it and forced it back into the strap. “Yes, sir,” I rasped, closing the book. “If you wouldn’t mind, please text me your address and I will see you in a couple days.”

“Sure thing, Chazzy. I can’t wait.”

“All right. Bye.”

I hung up and tossed the phone down, scooping food into my mouth. Too afraid to look at her, I stared at the black screen, wondering how long it would take him to text.

“And what in the world was that?” she mumbled around her food.

“Nothing. New client wants to make me a regular. No big deal.”

“That sure didn’t sound like no big deal.”