Now she was going to be forced to move home. Sure, she was twenty-four years old, and she didn’t have to go back. There was one overwhelming and glaring problem. Without her parents, she had no money.
Her wallet would only have expired coupons and dust.
There would be no way for her to pay for college, or her room. Sure, she could ask Jo, but Michelle hated going to Jo for money. Since her best friend was the daughter of a multibillionaire, or trillionaire, there were a lot of people who went to Jo for handouts.
Michelle never wanted to be one of those people, even if she needed it. Pride be damned, the only road she could take was the hard one. It just meant she would have to tell her best friends about the elephant in the room
Another sip from the warm coffee soothed her thoughts. Well, there was no time like the present. She fished her phone from her sweatpants pocket. The message from her mother was still at the forefront, glaring accusingly at her from the screen. A frown tugged at the edge of her lips and she switched over to Jo’s list of messages.
“You free today?” Michelle sent before finishing off the beverage.
The reply came near immediately. “You know I can always pencil you in.”
Michelle slumped onto her bed. That was a relief. Despite having all the money in the world, Jo still worked at the local skating rink as a manager. Due to them being low-staffed, Jo rarely had a day off. Even when she wasn’t on the clock, she was always on call.
“Mall?” Michelle sent back and started examining her wardrobe. There were so many choices. Either the slightly dirty black jeans with a wrinkled graphic tee, or the slightly dirty cargo shorts with the same shirt. Yeah. Choices.
“The high is going to be 84 today.” Loviel didn’t look up from his musical score to report the weather.
Shorts then. Michelle looked at her scattered laundry. She would have to take care of that, eventually. Chances were, these clothes would see another round before they saw the washer, unless Lian decided to be a blessing and do them.
“I can launder them if you wish.” Loviel set down the papers he was working on and tapped the table with his eraser.
Michelle turned and gave her angel a skeptical look. “You know how to do laundry?” The mental image of angels sitting up in a heavenly laundromat was enough to draw forth a chuckle. She could imagine it now. Rows and rows of dryers full of white robes.
Loviel let out honey-sweet laughter. Finally, his golden eyes looked up from his work. He sat up straight and stretched his arms into the air. “Of course I do. I could ask you the same question.” He regarded the overspilling flood of dirty attire.
Michelle shrugged. “I know how. I’m just lazy.”
“It shall be done when you return from your outing,” Loviel promised.
At least that was one thing off of her list of things to disregard. Michelle was a professional at ignoring problems until someone else took care of it. Dishes, dinner and grocery shopping were all included in that list.
By the time Michelle was dressed and ready to go, Jo had responded. “Meet you there :D”
With that, she grabbed her keys, which were strangely on the kitchen counter and not under a shoe and three socks. She gave one last wave to Loviel before departing.
The drive to the mall wasn’t a long one, only ten minutes, even though the traffic was backed up from the lunch rush. As Michelle parked, she couldn't help but admire her luck. A prime spot. Her already sore legs were going to love her.
Walking up to the entrance wasn’t as bad as she anticipated. Though, the walk back might prove to be a challenge, after traversing the mall for a while. It was going to make for one sore Michelle. Pain pills were going to be her best friend tonight. Maybe even a bit of alcohol.
Jo was waiting in the food court with a sandwich and some cheese fries. A huge grin appeared on her face when she saw her best friend approach.
“Mischa!” Jo called through a mouthful of sandwich. “You know I’m dying to hear about your date.”
A curse rang through Michelle’s mind. With all the excitement of moving, she had let her date with Ravin slip her mind. At least that had turned out well in the end. One less negative to report.
“It was awkward at first, but it ended up being pretty awesome.” She nodded, deciding to leave out the minor detail of him abandoning her at mini-golf. It had all worked out, so there was no need to mention their little spat.
Jo stuffed a handful of fries in the general direction of her face. She munched intently as she waited for more information.
Michelle let out a sigh. Of course, a bland explanation wouldn’t be enough for her best friend. “Okay, okay!” She threw her hands up in surrender. “So first of all, Ravin in a tux, not bad.” She recalled the fine lines, the contours of his body, the way the dark fabric had accentuated his features.
“Marius said he looked pretty swell.” Jo giggled. “I remember he didn’t look half-bad when we got him in a monkey suit the first time.”
A shudder ran down Michelle’s spine. Oh, how she tried to forget about their adventures to the Hot Spot, the domain of two ancient and powerful vampires. Maybe that was why “fancy” was tainted for her forever. Just another bad memory.
“Go on.” Jo bounced in her chair and ate another fry.
Michelle rolled her eyes. “Well, then he took me on a carriage, drawn by a horse covered in stars.” To add emphasis, she put the back of her hand to her forehead. “Then, he took me out to the finest Spring Restaurant in town.”
Jo nodded, impressed with his choice. He had done his research well. “But it was awkward?”
“You know me. I’m rough around the edges. I can only pretend to be fancy for so long. We ended up coming back to my place—”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence as Jo cut her off. “Oh my stars, did you guys?”
“No!” Michelle snapped, feeling her cheeks warm slightly. “We played games. I fell asleep. When I woke up, he had brought me donuts and coffee.”
Jo gave a sunny smile. She approved. Anyone who was willing to help facilitate Michelle’s laziness was okay in her book. Breakfast in bed? Perfection. Not only were they cute together, but Michelle and Ravin had a good chemistry.
“What a good boy,” Jo cooed, finished the last bite of her food. “Come on, let's walk.”
Michelle got up and followed beside her friend. A rock formed in the pit of her stomach. How was she supposed to tell Jo? Just imagining watching her best friend’s face fall was enough to unsettle her. What if she had a reaction similar to Ravin’s? While she knew Jo wasn’t the violent type, it was the demanding a solution be found that drove her up the wall. Okay, and the yelling didn’t help either.
“You have something on your mind.” Jo wrapped her arm around Michelle’s shoulders and hugged her tight, like a big sister would. “What’s up?”
A cat latched itself on Michelle’s tongue. As much as she needed to tell Jo what was going on, she couldn’t. It would make it too real. Though she knew Jo would be the perfect person to have on her side, Michelle wasn’t able to say. She bit her lip.
“Instead of walking around aimlessly, want to go spoil ourselves?” Jo smiled. “I know just the place. We can get you a massage, and maybe even trim up that mop of yours.”
“Hey.” Michelle pulled away from the embrace, “My mop is beautiful, thank you.” Though, she would admit, a massage sounded wonderful. Her limbs weren’t screaming yet, just quietly murmuring their displeasure.
Jo took her hand. “Come on, I know just the place.”
From the outside, the shop was unassuming. The door was a dark wood, and the windows were covered in ethereal white curtains. The name on the sign was unreadable, if it was a language, it was one no longer spoken in Eartha. Underneath read, ‘Salon and Spa.’
Immediately inside was a waiting area with overstuffed cream and black furniture. The walls were a soft green. The lights were dimmed, and quiet, relaxing music played. Delicate scents of san
dalwood and vanilla drifted in the air. The spa seemed to take up far more space than it appeared to from the outside.
There was a greeter’s station with a pink flower blooming in a arched vase.
“Well doesn’t this look fancy?” Michelle looked around. Just being in the store filled her with a sense of calm. Though, she couldn’t say much about their staff. There wasn’t anyone up at the podium. She walked up and inspected the flower. Someone would see them eventually.
“Jojo!” an excited voice called. The blonde male hopped up from the chair behind the desk and waved eagerly. “Oh my stars, how long has it been?” He rushed over and looked Jo up and down. “Too long! You’re so tense!”
Jo giggled. “You can read me like a book, Paul.”
In one word, Michelle would describe this Paul guy as metrosexual. To say he was attractive would be the biggest understatement of the year. His expensive taste in clothing resulted in clothing that framed his body beautifully. Michelle hated using the word perfect. But him? He fit the bill. His eyes were lively like shallows of the ocean in summertime. His skin had a spot-on sandy tan. His hair was like pure honey; carefree shoulder-length ringlets cascaded with flecks of gold. One side was shaved, and it only served to emphasize the luxuriousness of the rest of his locks.
His exquisite taste extended even to his choice of earrings. Of the highest quality, they were pearls that shimmered even in the dim light of the spa.
His shoes were crisp and clean. His jeans were kind to his legs and… other things.
Michelle wasn’t the best student; her intelligence laid elsewhere. But there was one thing she knew for sure. She would absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent not mind getting a massage from this man. If his hands were that good at dressing himself, then they would be good at doing other things.
“Sign me up, please,” Michelle grinned, glad she wasn’t the shy type.
Paul’s lyrical chuckle echoed around them. “We offer many services. Which one in particular did you have in mind?”
Michelle looked up at the spa menu. She glanced back at their host. “Is ‘the one where you touch me’ a viable answer?”
“She wants the Super Relaxing Special,” Jo cut in, messing with Michelle’s unkempt hair. “And maybe you can actually get her a style that isn’t bedhead.”
Michelle crossed her arms. “Hey, I worked hard on this.” She gestured to her hair.
“Eight hours of grueling work, I know.” Jo rolled her eyes. “Trust me, it’s worth it, Mischa.”
The handsome man chuckled and gave a bright smile. “I like her, Jojo. You should bring her more often.” He winked at the taller of the two girls. “Follow me, we’ll start with a massage,” His golden brows furrowed. “A gentle one, I assure you,” he quickly amended.
“Lead the way.” Michelle was a little taken aback by his wording. Did he know? How would he have known? Was she limping? Despite the pain in her legs and ribs, she had tried very hard to have an even gait. Either way, she followed him.
They moved back into a quiet comfortable room. The carpets were a plush cream, and the walls were the same green as the waiting room. In the center rested a massage table, covered in a soft pink sheet. There was a lone shelving unit, which contained a small white contraption with buttons on the front. Candles rested on every shelf. Some were lit while others were dark. Rows of bottles rested towards the top, next to a small speaker system. The same calming music flowed from it like a wave caressing sand.
At the very top was another curved vase, with multiple flowers poking out.
Paul held out a luxurious bathrobe out to Michelle. “If you would change into this.” He grinned. “Before I leave, are there any areas you aren’t comfortable with being touched at all? Or places that you’d like me to focus on?”
“The back would be a good place to start.” Michelle took the robe in hand. It felt like a cloud, soft and fluffy. “Other than that, have fun.”
A quiet chuckle escaped Paul. “Of course.” He waved his hand and tray appeared on the table. “If you would, please select a candle. I will light it and it will make oil for the massage. There are plenty of options, and if you would not like one, then I need not use them.” His eyes twinkled.
Michelle inspected the candles. She picked up a light purple one—too flowery. She winced set it back down. It was a relaxing-ish smell, but too floral. Next. She took a pink one, flowers again. After deciding that the safest next one to grab was a cream colored one. Cookies? Vanilla maybe.
Trial and error lead her to her final choice of one she didn’t have a name for. It smelled tropical, and the candle itself was colored like a vibrant sunset. It was sweet, but not sugary. Like fruit, maybe pineapple?
Whatever it was, she wouldn’t mind this beautiful man rubbing it all over her skin.
Paul set the candle among the others, and held his hand over it. The wick was lit, in a blink, while the other little flames winked out. The other scents were erased and none of the other aromas clashed in the room. He bowed his head and respectfully departed. “Please, take your time. When you’re done, you can lay down on the table, on your stomach.”
Once the door was closed, Michelle dropped her shorts and kicked them out of the way. Next she took off her top. She stood there awkwardly. It dawned on her that she had no idea what she was doing. Was she supposed to take everything off? She tapped her chin and shrugged. Why not?
With her amazing skills of deduction, she figured out how to lay on the bed with her face in the open circle thingy. It didn’t feel awkward at all. Okay, it did, but whatever. It was fine. She pulled the robe over her shoulders like a blanket, because she couldn’t figure out what the hell it was for. A blanket sufficed. Being naked tended to make things nippy.
A gentle knock came from the door. It cracked open. “Are you ready?” Paul whispered.
“Ready,” Michelle called out, making no effort to move in the slightest.
Paul padded quietly over. He gently snapped, and the robe vanished. The sheet had moved itself up and over her mid-back. “How’s the heat on the table? Too much, not enough?” His voice was soft as the robe had been. As he questioned her, he moved the bottles around, searching for the correct combination.
“Peachy, Mr.Fancy-pants.” And she meant it as the highest compliment. She had no idea what this man was. Stylish was all she knew.
“Why thank you.” Paul chuckled and strode over to the head of the table. He rubbed his hands together and then rested them on Michelle’s shoulders. “You haven’t even seen my nicest pants, and you still think they’re fancy.”
His hands slowly glided along her spine. “I want you to do me a favor right now,” he murmured.
Michelle let out a breath, “and what’s that?”
“I want you to be in the moment…” He eased his hands back towards her neck. “For now, breathe, and try to put everything that is on your mind behind you for just a little while. This is for you. This is your time to just be.”
It was easier said than done. Problems. That was all Michelle ever thought about. Problems with her body, problems with her sister. Everywhere she looked, something went wrong. His gentle, warm touches felt good on her aching body. So that helped.
Michelle closed her eyes and counted her breaths. Instead of focusing on the twinge of her bones, she turned her attention to the filing of her lungs.
“Mmmkay,” she yawned.
“Let the peace fill you, and let it ease away your concerns and fears.” His touch worked down her arms, then back up to her shoulders. Paul carefully focused on all of her problematic areas without her having to say a single word.
He took his time to work out all the kinks in her back, then shifted to her feet. Special care was taken to be as soft as he could, without sacrificing the pressure.
The candle oil’s tropical scent sank into her skin and made each movement silky bliss.
Paul returned to her head and pressed into the tiny knots in her neck. The me
thodical dance reached her skull and became even more delicate. “When we’re done, we’re going to go out into the salon, and we’re going to give you a lovely, fitting style.”
“Never stop,” Michelle groaned. Her mind was wandering in and out. She was enjoying the fine treatment. How did he manage to give her the rub down without any pain being generated from it? Would Ravin know how to do something like that? Surely not at the same caliber, but hells bells, it felt good. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t in pain. Though she knew it wouldn’t last, this few moments of peace was worth every penny.
A quiet laugh filled the air. Paul pulled his hands away and let her floating thoughts come to rest. “When you’re ready, you can put the robe back on. I’ll be waiting for you outside.” He padded over to the door and slipped out.
Michelle grabbed the cloud-soft robe that was hanging neatly by the door. She pulled it on and tied the front. On buttery steps, she wandered out to find Paul. She looked around, but Jo was nowhere to be seen. She must have been in her own state of heaven.
Paul poked his head out through another doorway. “Right over here,” he called quietly.
The next room Michelle stepped into was a salon, there was a hair-washing station, as well as a chair in front of a mirror. There was a drape waiting for her on the back of the chair.
“We’re going to wash your hair, and then get started,” Paul sighed happily. He showed her to the washing station and helped her down into the seat, and wrapped a towel around the back of her neck. The water burst forth from the pipes. He was sure to take his time to lather the shampoo deep into her roots. The sensation was reminiscent of the scalp work he’d done.
Once done, he assisted Michelle back to her feet and whisked her to the chair. He encased her in the drape and began to comb her hair. “You have such nice hair,” Paul praised. “You could do so much with it, even with the short length.”
Each pull found another little tangle to relieve. “But you don’t really take the time for self-care, do you? Not with everything on your plate.”
“Can’t say I do,” Michelle admitted, keeping still. In the past, she had learned the hard way not to wiggle too much in a hairdresser’s chair.
Syndrome of Mortality (Break of Breath Book 2) Page 7