She, the Kingdom (She #1)(16)

“Finally,” I said, relieved.

I sat on the table, waiting for Athena to leave so I could stand up and get dressed. “You did great. The next time will be easier, I promise.”

I swallowed, sick at the thought of a next time.

“Savannah will do your pedicure. She’ll be waiting for you in the hall.”

“Thank you?” I said, feeling strange about the words the moment they left my mouth.

I dressed, and as I moved, noticed the clean feeling Athena was talking about. Now that it was over, and I realized I’d just spent a half-day at the spa for free, the anger melted away. Then the idea of the checks and the new car made the excitement build again. I pulled my shirt over my head and opened the door, seeing a tiny young woman with black-rimmed glasses and a sweet smile holding a small glass.

“How was it?” she asked, handing me the water.

I took a sip, tasting the hints of lemon and cucumber. “Uh… I’m glad it’s over.”

She chuckled. “I know. I always feel silly for asking. Come with me, and we’ll get you relaxed.”

I walked down the dim hall with her. A soft piano number was playing through the speakers. The hall opened into a large room with several massage seats with bowls attached at the bottom. We were alone, and she gestured to the chair with the water already swirling. I sat and took off my sandals, rolled up my skinny jeans even more, and then sat down.

“I’m Savannah,” she said, taking my empty glass and trading it for a stemmed glass, half-full of white wine. She was a tiny thing, her blond, messy bun piled on top of her head. Her black framed glasses were almost too harsh against her ivory skin. She gestured to the wine. “I guessed. If you prefer red, I can switch it out for you.”

“No, white is fine. White is great.” The water was just a tad too hot, but I sank my feet in anyway, relaxing back against the chair. Savannah pressed a few buttons on a remote, and the built-in massager began kneading into my muscles. I closed my eyes, letting her lift my feet in and out of the water, clipping and filing my toe nails, and scrubbing and massaging my skin.

“Is this color okay? Mr. Kingston prefers darker colors.”

My face flushed red, nearly matching the dark wine color she held up.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s a beautiful color, but if you prefer—”

“No, that’s fine.”

She spoke as if Mr. Kingston telling her what color I preferred on my toes was completely normal. They must all know. I sunk down in my seat.

“Are you okay?” Savannah asked.

“No,” I said, covering my eyes.

“Oh, gosh. Oh, no. I hope I didn’t embarrass you. We keep it quite confidential, I assure you. Mrs. Kingston is our best customer, and we want to keep her happy. She’s very excited. It’s very sweet of you. No wonder they want to treat you.”

One by one, my fingers came away from my eyes, and I watched Savannah paint my toes the lovely wine polish Max had chosen for me. I decided that she’d been had been talking about something completely different than what was really going on. I sighed, watching as Savannah finished my polish and then nit-picked over the results.

She stood up, walking across the room to fill a clear plastic bag with thick, baby pink liquid, and then returned, asking me to dip my feet inside. She closed the bag, spreading the warm, candy-colored goo around my feet with her hands before she fastened the bag closed.

“Wow, what is that? It feels amazing.”

“Paraffin wax,” she said, standing next to me. “More wine?”

“No, thank you,” I said as she reached around my back and gently pushed me forward. Her thumbs dug into my shoulders, kneading out the stress I’d built up since I’d lost my job. I’d never had a massage, either, although Amelia talked about hers so much I felt like I had.

Once the paraffin dried, Savannah returned to her short stool and removed the bag, wiping away the wax at the same time. Only a few small pieces remained, and she peeled them away, running her hands over my feet.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“It’s amazing. I don’t think my skin has ever felt so soft. Or that my muscles have ever felt so relaxed. Now I realize what I’ve been missing all these years.”

She grinned, small dimples appearing on each cheek. “You must be excited that you’re scheduled every week from now on.”

“I am?”

“You are. Credit card on file.”

My eyebrows shot up, and I sipped the last of my wine, feeling like a queen.

*

I’d barely touched my dinner, cleaned the house until dark, and then took an abnormally long shower. The belt of my fluffy white robe was tied in a tight knot, and I took a fifth look at myself in the mirror. I was fresh-faced as requested, my skin from my toes to the tips of my hair were shiny clean. I couldn’t decide whether to fix my hair or leave it wet, so I decided to keep it twisted up in a thin towel.

After picking up my dirty laundry and doing a last sweep of the house to make sure it looked and smelled immaculately clean, I stood at the foot of my brand-new California King bed. It was massive, and the mattress that had arrived with it felt like I was lying on a cloud. The foam pillows were glorious; as were the softest sheets I’d ever felt against my skin. All because I had never orgasmed during oral sex.