Page 22 of The VIP Doubles Down
Allie chalked up a point for herself before she set up her tablet to play both photos and music and placed it on the floor where he could see it.
As the sound of a waterfall twined with the strumming of a sitar, Gavin said, “I feel the urge to chant ‘Om.’”
“If it relaxes you, feel free.” She attached the stim pads to the bare skin of his neck and back, focusing on the trigger points of his tension rather than the powerful geometry of his muscles.
“Do you meditate?” he asked in a deep, half-muffled voice that evoked images of wrinkled sheets and pillows in Allie’s wayward mind.
“I try to. It’s not so easy.”
“You have a lot on your mind, do you?”
He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to talk. She decided to consider his last question rhetorical. “I’m going to put the blanket over you now. And then I’m going to microwave some rice heat pillows to add another element of relaxation before I turn on the e-stim. I’ll be right back.”
She’d spotted the microwave during her last visit. It was built into a sleek wooden unit that also held a minifridge and a water dispenser.
“There’s a microwave in my gym?”
“You mean you don’t nuke pizza down here?” It was probably meant for exactly what she was doing: warming up heat packs.
“Ludmilla would have my head.”
“Which is why I thought you would do it.”
A muted huff came from the massage table. “You and Archer. Always needling.”
Allie felt a sense of satisfaction as she pulled the warm, wintergreen-scented pillows out of the microwave. Being mentioned along with his illustrious friend meant she was making progress. Maybe this job would pan out after all.
She laid the pillows over his blanket-covered shoulders. She heard him sniff as the minty aroma swirled in the air. “This seems more like spa day than physical therapy,” he muttered.
“Just wait until we get to the massage,” she said, turning on the stim unit. “Tell me when the current feels good to you.” She took it up gradually again.
“More,” he said as she hit one level higher than the last session.
“Pushing it too high won’t make it work better, you know.”
“My friends will tell you that I’m always pushing.”
She edged the dial up until it hit the maximum. “That’s as high as it goes.”
“Wimpy machine.”
“I’ll bring a stun gun tomorrow.”
That got a laugh out of him before he asked a question she’d hoped to avoid. “What sort of woman did you and your mother feel would suit Julian Best?”
She blew out a frustrated breath but kept her voice calm. “I don’t think that discussing Julian will help you relax the way your muscles need you to.”
“Discussing Julian is why I asked you back here.”
So that’s what his warning about false pretenses meant. She considered just doing what he wanted. It would guarantee her the job for a few more days, at the very least. But her professional pride and personal compassion wouldn’t allow that. “How about a deal? We spend an hour and a half working on your physical issues and thirty minutes discussing Julian Best.”
“An hour on each.”
“I can tell you everything Mama and I made up about Julian in twenty minutes.”
“We’re going to do something called brainstorming.”
“Youwantmeto brainstorm with you? I don’t know anything about writing books.”
