Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“All right,” I finally said. “A massage it is.”
“Anything else?”
“What else could I possibly have time for?”
“I’d recommend the salt glow before your massage. It will exfoliate all the dead skin cells from your body so the lotions can penetrate deeper. Also, our revitalizing facial. I believe we can fit all of that in.”
What the heck? “Sounds great.” I handed the paper back to her. “Let’s do it.”
“Absolutely. You’ll be happy to know that Mr. Wolfe also added a generous gratuity for your services, so you won’t need to worry about that when you check out.”
Worry about that? I hadn’t even considered the tip. For this number of services, at twenty percent, it would be outrageous. Thank you, I said silently to Reid.
A woman wearing a white coat led me to the locker room and provided me with a robe and slippers. Once I’d undressed, I sat in the “grotto” inhaling a lovely lavender aroma until another woman dressed in a white coat came for me.
“Ms. Jones?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Eileen, your hair stylist. If you’ll follow me, please.”
We ended up in a private room. “This can’t be right.”
“It is. You’ve been booked in one of our solo suites. All your services will take place in here.” She nodded toward a bubbling hot tub. “Feel free to relax in the tub between services.”
This was ridiculously decadent. Damn it, Reid Wolfe. I didn’t want to like him as much as I did.
I erased that from my mind. I’d never like someone just because he spent a boatload of money on me. I wasn’t that woman.
“What can I do for you today?” Eileen asked, after I sat down in the chair.
“I want to go blond. It’s my natural color.”
“Not a problem. I’ll have to bleach your hair to get the black color out.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Don’t worry, though. We condition thoroughly here, and your hair won’t suffer any damage.”
“Good.”
“Take a look.” She handed me a color chart. “Which color works best?”
Pretty crazy to consider. I hadn’t actually seen my natural color in years, other than in my roots. I chose a honey blond, which was slightly lighter than what I imagined my natural color to be.
“Perfect,” Eileen said. “Let’s get started.”
From there I was prodded and pampered for the next four hours.
By the end, I was blond again with glowing skin, freshly waxed eyebrows in their natural brown, and fingernails and toenails painted a sparkly light blue to match my eyes.
I left the spa feeling brand new.
So brand new that I felt I might be able to tell my story after all. Especially if it would help Reid.
I had no alibi for the night of Derek Wolfe’s murder, as my show had been dark. But I was innocent, even though I had a motive. I’d been here in Las Vegas. I wouldn’t show up on any flight log, and I’d performed the night before and the night after.
I felt strong. Stronger than before.
Maybe I felt like me again. The Zee before all the turmoil. Looking in the mirror, I saw her. Tidbits of her before those horrible few days.
I inhaled and made up my mind.
I was going to New York.
Reid stood, gawking at me. Did my new hair make that much of a difference?
“It’s me,” I said.
“I know. My God, you look beautiful, Zee.”
“I should thank you. Your gift made it possible.”
“But…why?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to look like myself again. Weird, really.”
“You were gorgeous before, but now… Wow.” He smiled.
How I loved that smile! When Reid smiled, I saw Reid. Not the son who looked so much like his father.
Just Reid.
That was who I wanted to see.
Two flight attendants—both gorgeous—fluttered around me. “Anything to drink, Ms. Jones? Mr. Wolfe ordered bottled water for you, but would you care for anything else?”
“Bottled water is perfect,” I said.
My massage therapist had told me to drink a lot of water today.
I was so relaxed. More relaxed than I’d been since…
It was the therapy, of course, but perhaps it was also the fact that I’d decided to go to New York. To tell my story. To help put away the priest and any others the authorities could find.
Perhaps it was being with Reid.
How was I falling so hard so quickly?
I never felt like this about men. In fact, I’d often wondered if I’d ever have a relationship. If I could ever be whole enough to.
Reid showed me to a lush seat and sat next to me.
“The captain says it’s time to fasten your seatbelts,” one of the flight attendants said. “He just got clearance to head to the runway.”
The seatbelt had shoulder straps as well as a lap belt. Reid showed me how to adjust them.
“This is the safest jet you’ll ever fly on,” he said.
“It’s beautiful.” I gazed around at the lounge area, which included two long leather couches with plush pillows and blankets. I glanced at a door beyond. “What’s through there?”