Read Online The Masseuse by Sierra Kincade - Free Book Online Page A

yesterday.”
    “What is it? Flowers?” Amy clapped her hands. “Don’t send them back!”
    “Probably chocolate,” I mumbled. “He mentioned something about that.”
    “Wrong and wrong,” said Derrick, leading us to the front desk where two cups of coffee from Javaz sat in a cardboard holder.
    My stomach clenched.
    “Uh-oh,” I heard Amy whisper beside me.
    Kevin leaned against the counter, looking starkly out of place in his baggy hemp shorts and coffee-stained undershirt. He twirled his finger around his long goatee, peering at the interior of the salon like something might jump out and bite him.
    “Hey, Kevin,” I said.
    “Hello, my love!” He visibly relaxed. “I’ve never seen where you work. It’s frightening. Lots of sharp things.”
    “They’re called scissors.” Amy plucked the card off the tray, read it, and then handed it to me.
    Anna, sorry for last night. Won’t happen again.
    “You’re right,” I said. “It won’t.”
    “He didn’t even sign his name,” said Amy, already sipping her green tea through the straw. “How presumptuous. At least he got my drink right.”
    “Amy! Put it down. We’re sending it back.”
    She pouted.
    “Sorry, Anna,” said Kevin. “’Fraid I can’t do that. Once it’s made, it’s made.”
    “Well, I don’t want it,” I said. “You drink it.”
    “You sure?” he asked.
    Derrick was looking down at the trash can where I’d crumpled and thrown the note. “Is it from Melvin?”
    “Yes,” I said to Kevin. “No,” I told Derrick. “It’s from someone else.”
    Kevin picked up the large coffee and drained half of it in one impressive gulp. I cringed a little watching him. His throat had to be scalding.
    “He’s groveling,” Amy said. “Do we still hate him?”
    “Yes.” I left the three of them at the front desk and made my way back to the break room, still steamed at Alec for standing me up and doubly steamed that he’d thought a cup of coffee would fix it. I snatched my phone out of my purse and wasn’t surprised to see a message.
    Coffee okay?
    I texted back, Wouldn’t know. Sent it back.
    I didn’t see if he responded. I turned off my phone, threw it in my cubby, and went to welcome my next appointment.
    *
    The three appointments that followed were not my best work. I was distracted, finishing early, spending too long on the right leg and then rushing through the left. Rookie mistakes. My two o’clock had to remind me twice that the pressure was too strong. I felt it afterward as I stretched my sore hands. There was a reason you didn’t see many sixty-year-old masseuses; their careers were always stunted by carpal tunnel syndrome or arthritis.
    But for now, my work made me happy. Usually.
    Despite my frustration, I did feel calmer after the massages. It was impossible not to let the soothing music and low lights mellow you. By the time I walked my third client back out to the front to pay, I was almost back to myself.
    “Anna.”
    My shoulders rose, tense, even as something warm stirred deep in my belly. Just the sound of his voice made my knees weak. I kept my eyes trained on the receptionist as she rang up my client’s ticket, but I could feel Alec behind me, feel his gaze lowering down my body.
    “Remember to drink water throughout the day,” I told Maryanne Jenkins, a referral from another of my clients. She rubbed the red semicircle on her forehead from the face pillow with the heel of her hand, and fluffed her gray bangs. “It will help flush the toxins released by your muscles from today’s session.”
    “Sure,” she said. “Yes. Whatever you say.” She laughed. “You’re my new favorite person, you know that, right?”
    Most people said some variation of this when we were done, even if I knew it wasn’t as good a session as it could have been.
    I patted her back gently. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
    I waited until she was out the door before turning around.
    Alec Flynn was undeniably gorgeous. In a