The Falling (Brightest Stars, #1)(5)

No, that wasn’t it. But I wasn’t just sad. And I didn’t like that my mask had slipped enough for Mali to notice. I didn’t like it one bit.





CHAPTER THREE




Ten thirty came and my client was right on time. I was used to his punctuality, not to mention his soft skin. I could tell he used oil after his showers, and that made my job easier, massaging already pliant skin. His muscles were always so tight, especially around his shoulders, so I assumed he sat behind a desk all day. He wasn’t military. I gathered that by his longer hair, curling at the tips.

Today he was so tense that my fingers hurt a little when they rubbed the patch of tissue at the top of his shoulders. He was a groaner—a lot of clients were—and he made these deep, throaty sounds when I loosened the knots he held in his body. The hour went fast. I had to tap his shoulder to wake him when it was over.

My ten-thirty client—his name was Toby, but I liked to call him Ten-thirty—was a good tipper and kept things simple. Never talked, except for that time he asked me out. Elodie freaked when I told her. She wanted me to tell Mali, but I didn’t want it to become a thing when it didn’t need to be. He was fine with my rejection—not the usual male reaction, I know. He hadn’t even hinted at any attraction toward me since, so I figured things were okay between us. What’s more, he hadn’t asked me out while I was treating him. I had run into him while I was walking out of the nail salon next door on a day off.

Forty-five minutes past eleven and there was still no Elodie. Usually she’d text if she was going to be more than fifteen minutes late. The man in the waiting area must have been new, because I didn’t recognize him and I never forgot a face. He seemed patient enough. But not Mali; she was about to call Elodie.

“I can take him if she’s not here in five minutes,” I suggested. “My next appointment can be moved an hour later, it’s Tina.” Mali knew most of our clients who came in and out of her spa; she remembered names like I did faces.

“Fine, fine. But your friend is always late,” she scolded. Mali was the nicest woman but was made of pure fire.

“She’s pregnant,” I said, defending my friend.

Mali rolled her eyes. “I was pregnant five times and I worked just fine.”

“Touché.”

I kept my laughter quiet and texted Tina to see if she could come in at one fifteen. She immediately responded with a yes, like I knew she would.

“Um, sir,” I called to the man in the waiting room. “Your therapist is actually running late. I can start you now if you’d like. Or you could wait for Elodie.” I didn’t know if he was partial to her for some reason, or if he simply wanted a massage. Now that we were on Yelp and booking online appointments, I never knew which clients wanted a specific therapist and which didn’t care.

He stood up and walked to the desk without saying a word.

“Is that okay?” I asked.

He hesitated for a second before he nodded. Okay . . .

“All right—” I looked at the schedule. Kael. What a strange name. “Follow me, please.”

We didn’t have assigned rooms—not technically—but I had fixed up the second room on the left to almost perfectly fit my taste, so that was the one I used the most. No one else took it unless they had to.

I had brought in my own cabinet and decorations that included lots of fake plants and was in the process of convincing Mali to let me paint the walls. Anything would be better than this dark purple color. It wasn’t exactly relaxing, plus it was dull, with chipped corners and edges that dated the room by about twenty years.

“You can leave your clothes on the hanger or the chair,” I told him. “Go ahead and strip down to however you’re comfortable. Lie facedown on the table, and I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to see if you’re ready.”

The client didn’t say a word; he stood next to the chair and lifted his gray T-shirt over his head. He was definitely military. Between his solid build and his nearly shaved head, he screamed soldier. I grew up inside and outside of Army posts my entire life, so I knew a soldier from a mile away. He folded his shirt and set it down on the chair. When his fingers tugged at his athletic pants, I left him alone to undress.





CHAPTER FOUR




I pulled my phone out of my scrub pocket and read the first line of a text from my dad:

See you tonight? Estelle is cooking and wants you to come.

I could name at least a thousand things I’d rather do, but this is what the three of us—sometimes four—did every single Tuesday. I’d missed only one family dinner since moving out a year ago, and that was when my dad drove Estelle in our family RV to the boot camp graduation of some distant relative, so technically I guess I wasn’t the one who missed it. They still had Tuesday dinner, on their family vacay, while back home Elodie and I shoved our faces with Domino’s pizza straight out of the box.

I didn’t respond to my dad because he knew I’d be there at seven. My “new” mom would be in the bathroom curling her hair while dinner kept warm in the oven. I’d be there on time, like I always was.

It had been at least three minutes since I got lost in my own world, and Elodie’s client was waiting. I sent her a quick text to say he better tip with a smiley-face emoji so she would know I was teasing. I quietly announced myself, pulled back the curtain, and walked into the room. The lights were dimmed but still reflected the hideous shade of purple from the walls; it had always been my least favorite color. The candles had been burning long enough for the air to take on the clean smell of almond. Even after my restless night, the scent had the power to calm me.