Page 127 of Devious Lies

“Okay, this way. Would you like me to turn on the chair massage?”

“Oh God, fuck yes. Oops! Sorry, I meant to say, yes, please,” I tell her, and she smiles and nods knowingly.

She turns on the water and fills the foot tub, adding a blue tablet. I sit back in the chair and close my eyes, humming low in my throat as I try to ease away the horrible month I’ve had with a little self-care.

I already missed out on my best friend having a baby and I feel like a fucking cockroach. But now, Anna has moved into a beautiful house in the fucking suburbs, and I am missing it all.

Not only that, but apparently Maria has gotten herself hitched to Luc and they are talking about having an actual ceremony and reception for friends and family this fall.

I am missing everything! And all because I am a goddamned coward.

“Would you like a real massage? Your shoulders look tense,” the same manicurist asks.

“Sure,” I reply and nod my head.

I didn’t know they did that. My eyes are still closed as I lean forward to give her room. It’s Fort Lauderdale and hot as fuck, so I’m wearing a cami and a pair of booty shorts.

Just like everyone else.

Big, warm hands clasp my skin and start massaging. And my eyes fly wide open.

I know those hands.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss and turn my head to find Angel, looking better than anyone has a right to, massaging my shoulders.

“Don’t touch you, Koukla? Last time I saw you, you were begging for my touch, remember?” he growls.

And fuck, I squeeze my thighs together in response.

“That was before I knew you’re nothing but a two-timing cheat,” I reply between clenched teeth and try to shake him off.

But Angel is impossible to move. And his eyes narrow like he is super pissed.

“I think we got ourselves a misunderstanding, Koukla. But no worries. We’ll get that all straightened out on the way back home.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Darling, you can come quietly, or you can scream. Your choice,” he says, and he puts his lips right against my ear, “You know how much I like it when you scream.”

Then he licks my neck, biting down hard, before backing up and handing the manicurist a couple of hundreds.

“Don’t worry about your parents. I got your suitcase from your mother. She’s a very nice lady. Says she’s been wondering why you haven’t left to see Anna. Your father, too.”

“You went to the condo?” I ask, eyes wide.

“Yep. Hey, you think you can work fast?”

“Yes, sir,” the manicurist replies, eyeing Angel like he’s a double shot French vanilla Frappuccino with caramel syrup and whipped cream.

“Cool. Thanks. You, uh, want me to keep massaging those shoulders, Gorgeous? Or anything else? I’m always available for you,” he says, eyeing me up and down.

This prick.

I narrow my gaze.

“No thanks. You’re not needed here,” I say, arching one eyebrow.

I grab the remote for the chair and press the button to start the deluxe message.

---