Lovely Dreams

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Lovely Dreams Page 5

by Danielle Stewart


  Damn she was something to behold.

  “What?” she asked, tucking her hair back quickly as his stare lingered a beat too long.

  “I like your earrings.” He grinned. “Are they from an ex-boyfriend? A current boyfriend?”

  “If they were from a current boyfriend, I wouldn’t be here. If they were from an ex, I wouldn’t be wearing them. I purge after a breakup. I’d cut you out of my pictures, delete all your text messages, and block your number. Toss the earrings in the nearest donation bin.”

  “When you’re done, you’re done?”

  “Completely. I don’t do on-again, off-again. My father taught me how to adjust my sails when the wind changed. When you sail, you don’t stay in one spot for too long, and you can’t spend all your time missing the place you just left.”

  “Now that I can relate to,” Tray said coolly as the car came to a stop. “I like to keep moving. People can get paralyzed by the idea of change. I love change. My mother is a bit of a recluse, and all I can think is how much she’s missing.”

  “Where are we?” Lauren craned her neck to see why the car had stopped. They’d driven outside of the city into a serene woodsy area. The large, looming metal gate stood shut as Lauren hunted for clues.

  “It’s the Brayville Resort. Have you heard of it?”

  “The Brayville?” Lauren gasped. “The spa? Are we doing the spa?”

  “Do you hate spas?”

  She shot him a look. “No one hates spas. But are you seriously proposing we spend the morning at the Brayville spa?”

  “No.”

  Her face faltered a little, and Tray wanted to kiss her back to a state of smiling. “Oh. Yeah, that would be silly.” She tried not to look too disappointed.

  “I’m proposing we spend the whole day at the Brayville spa. They’ve cleared their entire schedule for us. Whatever you like.”

  “That sounds . . .” Her voice trailed off as the gate opened and the car pulled down the long tree-lined driveway.

  “I thought we should start with a nice couple’s massage. Just us massaging each other.”

  “No.” Her face went stone serious, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitch with the shadow of a smile.

  “Okay, we can finish with it instead. I can be flexible.”

  She eyed him curiously. “What exactly are you going to do all day at a spa? I don’t expect your manicure takes all that long.”

  “Wait until you see all they offer. It’s not your ordinary spa.”

  “Happy endings?” She grinned and looked away. Suddenly bashful. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I forgot who I was with for a moment. A potential boss.”

  “I don’t follow you? What’s a happy ending?”

  She gulped, looking mortified. “Nothing.”

  “You’re very cute when you squirm. I know what a happy ending massage is.”

  “Of course you do,” she croaked out. “I was only joking. A stupid joke. I just want a regular massage. Something that ends completely normally.”

  “A good massage can be amazing. Don’t settle for a normal one.”

  She nodded. “I bet they have the best of the best masseuses. You probably melt like butter under their hands. That, I could go for. Something completely life-altering.”

  “Now we’re back to that couples massage you said you didn’t want.” He gave her a seductive smile and she reciprocated, then cleared her throat and looked away again.

  Her eyes went wide suddenly as the building came into view. Looming below a bright blue sky with puffy white clouds, it looked like the cover of a magazine.

  The car door opened, and Lauren sat motionless in the back seat. “This place is very expensive,” she whispered. “Like a month-of-salary expensive.”

  “Haven’t you looked me up on the internet by now?” Tray replied in a hushed voice. “I’m very rich.”

  She grabbed his arm as he made a move to get out. “I don’t want you paying for me. That’s not right.”

  “You afraid you’ll owe me something?” He winked. “I’m not that kind of guy. I don’t need to dole out cash to get a woman in my bed.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Good. I’d hate for you to be the kind of guy I have to punch in the throat.” Her face broke into a wide smile. “But seriously I can’t let you treat me to a spa day. It’s a nice thought, but this won’t work.”

  “You are very consistent. One might even say predictable. Your boss knows you well. When I told her what we were doing she knew you’d react this way. Layla said today was her treat. A well-earned bonus for all the extra time you’ve put in.”

  “Really?” She narrowed her eyes and he simply nodded.

  “A bonus. Because you are so reliable.”

  “Shut up.” She pushed her way out of the car but kept smiling. That smile was all Tray needed to know he’d nailed it. A surprise for the woman who hated surprises.

  A moment later, as they were ushered into the lobby, he slid his arm around her. “Let’s have a little fun.”

  “What?”

  A thin woman with unnaturally plump lips and short blonde hair waved them over. Her nametag read Agatha. “Mr. and Mrs. Hallenburn, we’re so excited to have you here today on your anniversary. We were glad to be able to accommodate you on short notice.”

  “Our anniversary?” Lauren asked, breathy and taken back.

  “Of course,” Tray said, pulling her in closer. “I surprised her. She loves surprises.”

  Agatha cooed affectionately as she covered her heart with her hands. “You are a very lucky woman. Your husband has planned the day to perfection. How many years have you been married?”

  Tray chimed up. “One year. Everyone says the first year is the hardest, but since the day I met her, it’s gone by so fast. Feels like just yesterday.”

  Lauren couldn’t help but laugh, which came out giddy. “Like yesterday,” she repeated, blinking up fondly at him. If nothing else, he’d been good for a laugh, and Tray took a little pride in that.

  “Come right this way,” Agatha said as she led them toward the large marble staircase. “You’ll be starting with the salt baths. I’ll show you to your private room. We’ve put you in a very remote room that overlooks the garden. The baths have been filled just to your specifications Mr. Hallenburn. The cheese and fruit has been put together by our chef. He hand-picked it all.”

  “Agatha, you are a blessing,” Tray said warmly. “I want this day to be perfect for Lauren, and I know it will be.”

  She gestured toward a door and then quietly bowed and stepped aside. “Ring the bell if you need anything. Otherwise we’ll see you both in an hour.” She skittered away quietly, and Tray, his arm still draped over Lauren, led her into the room.

  “Holy shit,” Lauren whispered and then covered her mouth. “Sorry . . . this room is incredible.” No detail had been spared. Flowers, so flawless they could have been engineered in a lab, covered every surface. Candles flickered under the dim lights. Steam billowed from two baths that sat only a foot apart. Flower petals floated across the top of the water. Platters of food were resting on a table between the two tubs. Glasses of mimosas. Quiet music.

  “Wait,” Lauren said loudly as Tray closed the door. “Those tubs are for us? The two of us?”

  “Why Mrs. Hallenburn, are you feeling modest?”

  “I’m feeling the urge to draft divorce papers. You really think I’m going to strip down and hop in that tub next to you? You’ve got some nerve.”

  “Am I strutting like a peacock again?” He flapped his arms like a bird, and she rolled her eyes. “There’s a changing room right there. I had them put a large selection of new swimsuits back there for you.”

  “And for you?”

  “I packed my own. I like to be prepared.”

  “You could have asked them for two separate rooms. You are a very rich man. I’m sure you could afford your own room.”

  “But then how would I be able to chat with my beautiful wi
fe while I sip on my mimosa?”

  “I’m going to change,” Lauren said with a huff, but he could tell she wasn’t all that mad. “There had better be more than some string bikinis back there. If not, I’m making you wear one.”

  “Kinky.”

  She disappeared for a few minutes, and he didn’t wait for the dressing room. He grabbed his swim trunks from his bag and changed. As he heard her steps approaching, he slid into the bath.

  With a sideways glance, he caught her olive skin in a bright blue swimsuit. “Starting without me?”

  “We can finish together,” he said in a sultry tone. “That’s my specialty.”

  “I bet,” she replied with a smile as she dipped a toe into the water.

  “That’s not how you get in. You can’t just dip your toe in, Lauren.”

  She glared at him. “Should I cannonball? Is that your advice? Don’t give me the stop being cautious lecture. I don’t need it.” With a sexy exhale and a moan, she slid into the tub and went straight under like a child playing. She emerged with another moan of pleasure. “This is heaven. Now all I need is peace and quiet.”

  “I can’t ask you a bunch of deep questions?”

  “Free therapy?”

  “I’m licensed.”

  She looked over at him skeptically. “Really?”

  “Yes. I have a T-shirt to prove it. Licensed bikini inspector. I got it when I was twelve. It was a hit at the beach.”

  “You aren’t inspecting anything over here. You can ask me whatever you want, but I may ignore you.”

  “Fair.” He sat for a moment thinking of the right question. “So you mentioned your father and some sailing. Did he sail often?”

  Her beautiful toes rose up from the bathwater and she wiggled them happily. “A better question would be, did he ever stop sailing? He never had to get his sea legs, more like his land legs.”

  “Sounds like he loved it. You sailed with him?”

  “I did. Because I wanted to see him. That was the only way to ensure I did. He was a very quiet man. Never raised his voice. Never got angry.”

  “The complete opposite of my father. Shouting was almost all he knew how to do. You’re lucky.”

  “I’d have taken some yelling if it came with any other kind of emotion. You’d think a really even-tempered man would be wonderful but not when you want him to be happy for you. Or disappointed. I’d have taken anything. He couldn’t muster any of that.” She leaned her head back against the special bath pillow and closed her eyes.

  Tray knew he was meddling, pushing for information that was none of his business. She was none of his business, but every time he saw her now, he could see how she resembled her mother, a woman he’d known for a long time. Someone he’d always considered kind and friendly. How does a woman like that let her child go?

  “Why did you choose him if he was like that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said yesterday that you had to choose between your mother and father, and you picked him. Why?”

  She turned her head toward him but looked off at one of the flickering candles by a large bouquet of flowers. “Maybe I didn’t pick him. I was ten, what did I know? Maybe she left, and I’ve convinced myself it was my choice. Or more likely I did just what she did.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Yes. I believed if I kept trying, my father would suddenly bolt to life one day. A Frankenstein, shooting up after something I did filled him with electricity. He’d finally see me, recognize the nuances of my life, and we’d sail and talk until we ran out of words. Women do that sometimes. We imagine we might be the switch that hasn’t been flipped yet. The special person who can fix the broken man.”

  “We’re all lost causes,” Tray said, reaching for his mimosa. “I’m ashamed to admit how many women have tried to change me.”

  “Yes, love is dead and pointless. I’ll drink to that.” She raised her glass in his direction.

  “It must be hard not knowing. You said your father died, don’t you want some answers from your mother? There must be more to the story than you remember. Why let that opportunity slip by?”

  “I know you’ve caught me at a tough time. Sitting in an office crying is not very solid ground to stand on while I plead my case on this, but trust me, I am fine. I’m hurting over Gloria, but that doesn’t drive me to rummage through my childhood pain. Those days are done, and I’ve put it all behind me.”

  “How did you meet Gloria?” Tray knew his way around a delicate negotiation. While he wasn’t trying to close a deal with Lauren, he saw the signs it was time to pivot the conversation, at least for now. Otherwise he’d lose her, and for some reason he was reluctant to.

  “I was sitting at a bus station. One bag by my feet, chewing on my thumb nail. My father had just died and left me with nothing. My inheritance should have been his sailboat, but it was lost at sea with him. Our apartment was being torn down to make way for a high rise, and I didn’t have enough for a first and last month’s rent plus a deposit for a new place. But I had enough for a bus ticket.”

  “To where?”

  “It didn’t matter. I planned to be a drifter.”

  “A drifter?”

  “Yes, I was going to ride around, pick up odd jobs, and then just keep moving. It sounds pretty foolish now, but at the time it seemed like my best option.”

  “And then you met Gloria?”

  “Yes. She sat down next to me at the coffee shop at the station and started chatting. Asking me where I was going. What kind of work I was looking for. I had really only worked retail and was a temp at a few call centers. She offered me a job on the spot. Said she needed an assistant and thought I’d be perfect. I turned it down of course. It didn’t fit with my stellar plan.

  “She was persistent?”

  “No, she didn’t need to be. Gloria knew people well enough to know what motivated them. Some people like praise. Others like autonomy. For me it was easy to spot. Money. She simply wrote the pay on a piece of paper and handed it to me. It was more money than I could make in ten years. She told me there was a signing bonus which should help me get an apartment. All I could ask was why.” Lauren closed her eyes again and sank under the water for a long moment. When she came back up, she breathed in the steam.

  “What did she say?”

  “She told me she’d had a lot of assistants in the last couple years, but they all lacked what she needed. And just by talking to me for a few minutes she could see I had it.”

  “Stunning hair?” He gave her a devilish smile, adding some levity to rehashing what was clearly weighing on her.

  “Bravery. Actually, I think she said a reckless amount of bravery. The rest of the job she could teach me, but fearlessness couldn’t be taught.”

  “Smart woman.”

  “She was. Which is what makes losing her so much harder. Gloria was the first person in my life who wasn’t bottled up. Closed off. She lived very much out loud.” Lauren closed her hand tightly around the porcelain rim of the tub. “Cancer sucks.”

  “It does.”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to cry in this tub,” she said, gulping back her growing emotion.

  “It’s fine, it’s a salt bath. No one will know.”

  “You’ll know.”

  “Seeing you cry is hardly new. That’s what fake husbands are for.” He sipped his mimosa and drank in the little giggle she offered.

  “No, today I’m going to be happy. All day. It’s too expensive here to be sad. Gloria would say let life happen today. I think I might try that. If I can’t relax here, I won’t be able to relax anywhere.”

  “How can I help? I am an expert in relaxing.”

  “I think we’re off to a good start. It’s just the food—”

  “What?” He looked over the trays to see what might be wrong. The fruit had been plucked straight from the garden this morning. The assortment of cheeses was upscale and seemingly delectable. But something was wrong.
<
br />   “Never mind, I shouldn’t say anything. This is a great spread. Very fancy.”

  “But?”

  “I might need some happier food.”

  “What kind of food is happy food?”

  “I could really go for a donut. One of those powdered sugar ones filled with jelly. It’s a tall order, I know. Silly really.”

  It might have been the hot water in the tub, but his chest warmed at the sight of her bashful smile. “If my fake wife wants a donut, she’s getting a donut.” He hit the call button for the staff.

  Her face wrinkled with a pressing question. “Why did you do that by the way? Why book us as a married couple?”

  “I thought it would make you squirm. But you didn’t skip a beat. I’m a little disappointed. I assumed I’d at least get a stern talking to when we were alone.”

  “The day is young, I’m sure you’ll give me something to yell about eventually.”

  Tray turned his head toward her, the cold porcelain chilling his hot cheek. Oh the ways I could make her yell and scream. “Let’s hope you’re right about that.”

  Chapter 7

  Lauren

  * * *

  Her skin was soaked deep with the smell of lavender and made silky by a day’s worth of pampering. Her nails were freshly polished. Hair trimmed and blown out straight and smooth. She pulled the thick white cotton robe tight around her as she peeked out from behind the partition. Tray was stepping out of his deep tissue massage, only a towel wrapped around his waist.

  The muscles of his chest and abs flexed tightly and gleamed under the glow of the low lights, shiny from oils and lotions. His hair was wet and slicked back. There was nothing stopping her from dropping her robe, rounding the partition, and taking part in some other forms of relaxation and stimulation. Something that couldn’t be found on the list of services at the Brayville.

  So why was she standing there peeking around the corner? Didn’t Gloria always tout her bravery?

  “I’m about to drop this towel,” Tray called, his back now to her. “You have a decision to make.”

  Lauren coughed out a response. “I do?”

  “Well, I guess you could just keep watching from there, if that’s your thing. But I’m much more fun close up.”

 

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