Page 56 of A Labor of Hate
The attendant sorted out payment for each of us, the total cost enough to shrivel up any plans of treating myself to a latte on the way home.Or for the foreseeable future.McBride probably wouldn’t be happy about footing the bill for an all-inclusive spa day, but I’d cross that bridge if I ever got to it.
I accepted my plush robe and slippers from the receptionist and adjusted my bag on my shoulder.“So, um, are we going to have to wear these the whole time?With, uh” —I swallowed hard— “nothing underneath?”
Worrying about exposing my belly was one thing.Worry about that and exposing everythingelsewas another.
Vivienne laughed.“I highly recommend keeping your underwear on.Otherwise, it’s up to you and what you’re comfortable with.But for the facials, you’ll have to undress anyway, so I mainly wear the robe and slippers.”
Facials?We had to get naked for something they do to ourface?What had I gotten myself into?
We deposited our personal effects in some lockers, including the majority of our clothing.My power panties were in the wash, so today I was rocking some of the ugliest grandma pairs this side of the Mississippi.
At least it matched my swimsuit’s aesthetic.
I kept my tank top on, over my belly instead of providing the anti-squelching layer it usually did.The silicone stomach bore a passing resemblance to a real belly when exposed, but the effect would be lost if anyone got close enough to realize there was an unnatural end and beginning to the paleness.
The fluffy robe was divine, and the slippers were comfy, though.Maybe this experience wouldn’t be so bad after all.
It took approximately thirty seconds for me to eat those words, which was about how long it took for us to reach our massage room.
This was going to suck.
Two massage tables sat next to each other, a towel neatly folded on each amongst a series of pillow-like pads of various shapes.No curtain in between.No screen.Nothing.Vivienne and I would be in full view of each other the.whole.time.
Panic built in my chest, my heart accelerating like a hotdog rolling down a hill.What if the masseuse didn’t honor my request and strayed too close to the Velcro?Or—worse—what if they hit it just right, so it started unclasping?The telltale ripping sound would echo around the globe.Everyone and their dog would hear it.I wasn’t confident my belly band plan would convince Vivienne if push came to shove.
Think, think, think.There had to be some way to swing this.
“Don’t worry” —Vivienne smiled, misinterpreting my discomfort— “by the time they finish with the scalp massage, you’ll wonder why you’ve never had one of these before.They’ll take good care of you.”
Yeah,thatwas what I was worried about.
I returned her smile shakily, already planning a graceless exit thanks to convenient third trimester morning sickness.That was a thing, right?I’d make it a thing.Maybe I could blame it on some bad shrimp from this morning.Because normal people totally ate shrimp for breakfast.
But if I skipped out on this, would that damage my budding friendship with Vivienne?Even if it didn’t, was it worth missing the prime opportunity to talk with her without Charles or his boy band listening in?
If I got caught, none of that would matter.
My panic rose higher when Vivienne stripped off her robe, revealing only a strapless wrap around her chest and some decidedly much more stylish panties.Would she think it was weird that I kept my tank top on?
I slowly took off my robe, my mind whirling and gut lurching nauseatingly.Maybe I wouldn’t have to fake my upset stomach after all.
Vivienne let out a low whistle.“I’vegotto come to your classes if they give you biceps likethat.”
So she also wasn’t above looking at me throughout this.Perfect.Just freaking perfect.
“Thanks.”I laughed, trying to dislodge the balloon of nerves squeezing my lungs and heart into my ribcage.“I imagine they’re nothing compared to you or your clients, what with being a fitness coach and all.”
She waved off my deflection.“Be proud of your results, girl.Comparison is the thief of joy.That’s what I tell all my clients.”
I dipped my head to the side, pretending like I was considering her advice instead of fighting to take a full breath.
She used the steps next to her table to climb up.“If you want, you can wait until your masseuse comes in and tells you how to position yourself with the pillows, since they’re the professionals.”
I sighed in relief, desperate for whatever time I could get to think of a way out of this sticky situation.Either I jeopardized my relationship with her, or I jeopardized getting caught.Catch twenty-two.“Yeah, I think I’ll do that.”
My heart leapt into my throat when the door opened.A blonde with her hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head entered, wearing the same scrub-like sky-blue uniform the front desk attendant had been wearing, too.
She smiled, addressing me first.“I’m sorry for the delay, ma’am.Monique isn’t feeling well, so is it alright with you if another member of our staff works with you?”
