The Masseuse by Sierra Kincade Read Free Book Online Page B

glasses.
    “Yes, sir,” I said.
    “Good.” Derrick flashed a smile of perfect teeth as he made his way back to the front of the shop.
    “Since all seems hopeless with the good doctor, I suppose you could always take Melvin out for a spin,” Amy grinned.
    “What is your obsession with my sex life?”
    “Just lookin’ out,” she said.
    Amy was always “just lookin’ out.” We’d gone to high school together in Cincinnati. At fourteen, she’d been wild and untamable, angry over her dad leaving her mom, and her brother getting killed overseas. And I’d been a loner, too wary to trust anyone. Somewhere between a sampling of boys and booze, we evened each other out. She was the first real friend I’d ever had. The only one, really.
    After senior year, we’d gone our separate ways: me on my quest to see the world, her to Florida with the twenty-one-year-old guitar player who was just trying to “find himself” in her pants. We’d kept in touch, and when things had gone stale in Baltimore, I’d come down to Tampa to nurse her through a divorce from the lying, cheating husband who’d left her with nothing but a beautiful little girl.
    Amy was the one who’d gotten me the job and my apartment.
    “Maybe,” she said, trading the blow-dryer for a flatiron, “I just want you to stick around for longer than two months.” Her gaze didn’t stray from my hair.
    “Baltimore was eight.” It was a weak argument. Her wanting me close felt good, but it also made me sad. Part of me wanted to put down roots somewhere, anywhere, but it seemed like the ground beneath was always too hard.
    “And Atlanta was six. And Austin was two.”
    “
Three
. You know, I had to sign a conduct form of my own last night,” I said, changing the subject.
    “At the big shot’s house? Do tell.”
    I launched into a full description of what had happened at Maxim Stein’s, beginning with my first run-in with Alec. When I got to the part where I walked in on Maxim and his mistress, the flatiron Amy had been using fell to the floor.
    “You’re full of shit,” she said.
    I hushed her. “I swear.”
    “They didn’t see you?”
    I told her how I hid in a room until I’d been rescued by Alec, and then proceeded with the appointment as if nothing had happened.
    Amy shook her head, nose scrunched up like it always did when she was worried about something.
    “And”
—I held up my coffee—“he showed up out of the blue at Javaz this morning and bought us drinks.”
    “Out of the blue,” she said. “Yeah, right. He showed up because he wanted to see you.”
    The thought of his fingers teasing my hair and his warm hand on my waist made my skin feel sensitive. I had wondered if he’d arranged to run into me, but it seemed too good to be true.
    “You’re really into him,” Amy noticed.
    “It’s probably nothing,” I said, trying not to get my hopes up.
    “Are you kidding?” She finished pulling the top strands of hair back in a silver clip. “He’d be crazy not to like you. I just worry about those house calls. I seriously could have kicked your ass for not texting me back last night.”
    “I’m sorry.” I meant it. She was a good friend—the best.
    “I know. Just be careful, all right? It’s different when you’re on someone else’s turf. You never know what you’re going to walk in on.”
    We both giggled. But though she sounded like my dad, she was right. They both were.
    “I’ll text you as soon as I’m done with my appointments, I promise.”
    “Anna,” called Derrick from the front. “Your eleven o’clock is here.”

Six
    M elvin Herman lay facedown on the massage table, covered by a sheet. The lights were low, and the sound of waterfalls piped in through the speakers. After our last visit, when he’d shared that he’d been dreaming about me on my knees before him, I’d informed him that we would no longer be doing the complimentary foot scrub.
    He rose up on his elbows so that he could look at me, a