Page 67 of Mangled Memory
“And she loves me, and it shows in the images.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I’m asking.” I place a kiss to his unshaved cheek, before turning to my girl. “Love you Ellie-baby. Be good for your spare human.”
The growl behind me draws a laugh from deep in my belly.
21
almost verbatim
Ayla
It seems the days before Christmas are a blur of activity. Like anyone, we have more things to do than time to do it. Brunches, cocktail hours, Christian’s company holiday party.
What I really need is peace and quiet. And simple.
Me: Need a down day and bestie time. You busy?
Halley: December is shit for space planning and organization. I’m wide open.
I make a phone call and get exactly what I’d hoped for.
Me: Meet me at Luxe?
Halley: You don’t have to tell me twice.
Me: See you as soon as I can get there.
I throw my hair up in a messy knot on top of my head and wipe the leftover makeup goop from under my eyes.
I walk into the lobby of Luxe and take in that scent that only seems to exist in a luxury spa. Orange blossom and teakwood or mahogany, maybe, with something sweet, but not too sweet, thrown in.
“Good morning,” I offer, trying not to feel self-conscious in my fleece leggings and random hoodie. “Ayla Murphy Barone. I have a reservation for two.”
A woman with a perfect French twist stands in all black behind the tall glass counter. She clicks away at her computer before looking up to me. “Welcome, Mrs. Barone. Miss Tomlinson is already in the relaxation room. Follow me, please.”
She leads me to a private dressing room and pulls a champagne-colored robe from a warming drawer, setting it on a solid wood bench. “This is your room. Please use anything you need in here. Towels are in the drawer there.” She points to another drawer, before flicking a long, manicured nail to a door. “Steam shower and sauna through there. We’re here to serve you. Push any gold button”—she indicates a recessed button in the wall—“when we can serve you in any way. The relaxation room is out this door and down the hall to the left. Welcome back to Luxe.”
She exits the room with the poise of a supermodel, the door pivoting with a slow whoosh behind her.
I’m still amazed by what wealth affords me. A warm robe. Seriously? I strip and help myself to the steam shower, breathing deeply, and letting the moisture force its way into my parched skin. I don’t spend long but want my skin prepped and my mind clear. The steam and the eucalyptus in the air meld into a moment of pure relaxation. By the time I’m surrounded by the warm robe I wonder if I even need the “relaxation room.” The fabric is butter on my skin, and I can’t help the smile as I head for Halley and several hours of pampering.
Low light and the sound of wind blowing over ocean waves greet me. As does my bestie. She gets up from a low sofa and comes to give me a hug. “Hey, babe. Is it afaux pasthat we’re wearing the same thing?” She twirls in her robe as she lifts a champagne flute above her head.
“Day drinking?”
“It’s not drinking at the spa. It’s relaxing.” She flops back into the corner and kicks her feet up on the cushions. “There are berries too. All kinds.”
She’s not lying. A full spread of fruit, crackers, meats, andcheeses are on ice near the cucumber water and the sachets for hot tea.
I pop a raspberry in my mouth before slathering an apple slice with brie and rejoin her to recline. I drop my free hand to my belly and let my eyes fall shut. “December sucks.”
“Tell me about it. No work and knowing that I won’t breathe until April because everyone’s New Year’s resolution is to be more organized.”
I roll my head her way and open my eyes. “I have no clue what my business cycle is.”
“You have people for that.”
