Something Is Very Wrong Here
Dolores sat on the salon couch, wringing her hands. Mia watched the computer screen while her fingers clicked lightly over the keyboard. Lara painted indigo-blue polish onto the nails of a college girl studying for exams. And Nico was putting the finishing touches on the thick white hair of the elderly man sitting in the styling chair while silence drifted through the salon, broken only by small everyday sounds.
The moment the door opened, several shoulders twitched at once.
“Gael,” Mia whined, “finally!”
The receptionist could barely contain herself. By now, she was almost more excited for Dolores to end up in Gael’s hands than Dolores was.
With a conspiratorial smile, she gestured for the older woman to prepare herself mentally. Soon she’d have to walk through the door she’d been staring at so tensely ever since she arrived.
Lara didn’t lift her head, but the faint smile at the corner of her mouth made it clear she was paying close attention.
At last, Gael pulled the door open. His tall figure, dressed in white linen, completely blocked the warmly lit room behind him, glowing with the soft light of salt lamps.
“Come in, Dolores.”
Dolores’s body tensed for a moment like a startled prey animal. Then she pulled herself together and stepped uncertainly into the unknown, pale and hesitant.
After seeing his client out, Nico leaned against Mia’s reception desk and tapped a fingernail against the glossy white surface.
“Anyone else coming, or do I have time to dye my hair?”
“Sorry, darling, but your dream of having a yellow-blond haystack above those dark brown eyebrows will have to wait. Rosita will be here any minute.”
The man grimaced and ran a hand through his hair.
“But I really want to do it today. I’ve got a photoshoot tomorrow, and I think I’d look better a few shades lighter.”
Mia’s mouth fell open.
“What photoshoot?”
Nico lowered his gaze and started studying his own nails. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look her in the eye.
“It’s just some… catalog thing.”
Mia narrowed her eyes.
“What kind of catalog, Nico? What are you hiding this time?”
“Clothes. Well… underwear, technically.”
“Underwear?” Mia shrieked. “Lara, did you hear that? Nico’s modeling for an underwear catalog!”
“Oh God, Mia…” Nico groaned.
Nico spun around the moment he heard the unmistakable click of Rosita’s heels coming up the stairs outside.
“Thank God, Rosita,” he sighed, grabbing the door handle.
Mia rolled her eyes in disappointment. Then she got up and wandered into the kitchen.
“What a gentleman you are, Nico,” the older woman chuckled. “I always tell my friends that’s why I love coming here. You’re such a well-mannered man, Lara’s a true artist, Mia’s here to keep everyone entertained, and Gael…” Her voice caught slightly. “I adore his touch. And his scent,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed beneath heavy eyelids.
Her hair had already disappeared beneath a thick layer of white foam when a long, drawn-out moan drifted from the massage room.
Rosita straightened up as if she’d been electrocuted.
“What was that?” she huffed.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Nico burst out laughing at Rosita’s horrified, foam-covered face.
“Relax, it’s nothing unusual. Gael’s got a client in there.”
“But,” Rosita spluttered indignantly, “what kind of uncontrolled noises are those supposed to be?”
A quiet snicker floated over from Lara’s table.
“It happens to everyone,” Nico reassured her. “Gael’s strong. Sometimes he presses or twists something and some strange sound just slips out.”
“Nico, darling, if I can control myself, then surely other people can manage to do the same.”
For one careless moment, the man’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead before quickly settling back into place. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass Rosita. But the old woman didn’t miss the flicker of hesitation.
She grabbed his arm, nostrils trembling.
“Don’t tell me, son, that I make horrible noises like that too!”
Nico shook his head uncertainly while waving one hand helplessly in the air.
“Oh no…” Rosita collapsed back into the chair. “How humiliating! You all laugh at me behind my back, don’t you?”
“Why would we laugh at you or anyone else?” Nico snapped. “This is a beauty salon,” he rushed on. “People come here to relax and feel good. It’s completely natural if someone lets out a little sigh during a massage.”
“That is not a sigh,” Rosita squealed. “That is a sensual moan.”
“Well… sounds come out differently from different people.”
That finally seemed to calm Rosita down.
“Well, all right then. Because I certainly don’t moan as if I were doing something entirely different in there… with that handsome, well-built Gael.”
Her gaze drifted as her thoughts circled back to Gael. Then she shook herself and patted her cheeks.
“All right, my boy. Let’s continue.”
She had just settled into the other chair in front of the mirror when Dolores stepped out of the massage room with Gael behind her.
Dolores squeezed the man’s hand gratefully.
“Thank you, darling, that truly was magical. I’m so glad you talked me into it. I can come again sometime, can’t I?”
Rosita’s mouth fell open. She grabbed Nico’s shirt and yanked him closer.
“Did you hear that?” she hissed in a shrill whisper. “Listen to her flaunting herself at her age. And the way she’s staring at him! That shameless woman’s practically drooling!”