Chapter One
“How was your lunch date, Gracie?” Lorelai sang two octaves above her normal sultry voice.
I leaned against our welcome desk at the spa and sighed. “Well, it was going good until he took his socks and shoes off and put his foot on the table. He wanted to make sure I got a good visual of how freakishly high his arches were. Apparently, he was written up in some medical journal. Not only were his arches higher than the Saint Louis Arch, but I had no idea a man could grow so much hair on his feet. It was worse than a hobbit.” I shuddered, trying to shake the thought of it out of my head. I knew I was going to have nightmares about the bushes of hair on his feet.
Lorelai laughed hysterically. “No wonder he became a podiatrist.” She grabbed her phone and started scrolling. “Let me see who else I know that I can set you up with. I’m running out of options. How many blind dates have you been on now?”
I bit my lip and started throwing up my fingers to help me count. “I think the podiatrist made it thirty-five.” I blew out a deep breath, making my bangs take flight. “I’m doomed to go to my twenty-year high school reunion alone. What’s worse is I’m in charge.”
“Don’t give up hope yet. You still have two months.”
“Yeah, but Mr. Right—or even Mr. Right Now—and I need time together so it’s not awkward. You know how epic I hope the night will be. There’s no leaving it to chance.”
“Don’t you worry, darlin’, we’ll find someone.”
Yeah, I’d been telling myself that for the last eight years. Being single never bothered me until I turned thirty and began to seriously question if I would ever get married and have children. The last few years, I had started taking ovulation tests just to make sure my ovaries were still spitting out eggs. The good news was that I was still fertile; the bad news was there was no fertilizer in the foreseeable future, and I was afraid my uterus might become a desolate wasteland soon.
“Keep scrolling,” I begged her. “Maybe number thirty-six is the charm.” I refused to show up alone to the reunion. It would be like prom all over again. I was the only prom queen in the history of Pecan Orchard High to ever get stood up. I had to push the horror out of my mind.
Beautiful Lorelai, who looked so angelic with her platinum-blonde hair and big, blue-as-the-sky eyes, smiled at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll call my momma if I have to. She’s the biggest meddler in all of Texas.”
Poor Lorelai was always dodging the men her mother threw her way after Lorelai’s husband had died a few years ago. God rest William’s soul. He was a dear, sweet man. But there was no time for reminiscing as Zoe, one of our attendants, popped her head out of the door that led to our treatment rooms. “Gracie, your two o’clock is here. A facial massage in treatment room one.”
“Oh, yes.” Lorelai began to fan herself. “I checked him in and ooh la la. I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed for eating crackers, I’ll tell you that.”
I giggled.
“Although I have to say he had a brooding energy about him,” Lorelai added. She was our resident energy healer and yoga instructor. “Perhaps you could help lift his spirits. Maybe he could be number thirty-six.”
“I thought we agreed when we opened this place, we wouldn’t date the clients or our coworkers.”
She wagged her brows. “Wait until you see this man—you’ll be calling an executive meeting and begging us to bend the rules.” Lorelai, Colette, and I had deemed ourselves the executives when we opened Serenity Spa two years ago. We were three best friends who were tired of working for other people, and we’d finally saved up enough money to open our own place here in the fabulous city of Fort Worth.
I flipped my curled strawberry blonde hair. “Well in that case, if you hear loud gasping, don’t come in. It will only be me checking to make sure he knows how to properly administer a good night kiss,” I teased. We weren’t that kind of a place. No kinky stuff on the premises.
“Do what you gotta do, girl.” She winked.
“I better hustle and change back into my scrubs. You, please keep scrolling.” I was getting desperate.
She saluted me. “I’m on it. Have fun.”
I darted off toward the “executive” bathroom in the back. We had to have some perks as the owners. Basically, it was a multipurpose room. We held most of our so-called meetings in there, sitting on the oversize sage ottoman, mostly laughing between discussing our business. It was also our dressing room, crying room, and on occasion, we used the toilet in there.