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She took a step closer and touched my arm. “Don’t look so disappointed, Mr…?”
Despite my confusion, I recovered quickly. “Sato. Dominic Sato.”
Her blue eyes flew open wide, and she glanced at the receptionist, who was pretending not to eavesdrop.
Poorly, I noted.
The red-haired woman claiming to be Marissa waved me farther away from the desk, her cheeks turning almost the same shade as her hair. “Please don’t be upset, Mr. Sato. I can explain.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I’m more confused than anything.”
She took a deep breath. “My sister is the one who gave you your massage yesterday. I was caught out in Virginia and wouldn’t make it back in time for your appointment. You know how D.C. traffic is.” She waved her hand toward the door leading out. “Bree’s always been quick to pick up new skills, and she owed me.”
Bree.
The name washed over me with a soothing sensation, like finding solace on land after being lost at sea. I replayed the massage in my head, remembering how I’d wondered just how new she’d been.
So new, it turned out, she didn’t go to this school.
As I studied the real Marissa’s face, the family resemblance was unmistakable. Her hair was more red than Bree’s and her eyes more blue than seafoam, but full lips and a slight dimple in her chin matched Bree’s exactly. Not to mention skin so white it was almost translucent.
“I’d be more than happy to schedule a make-up appointment, on the house.” She pressed her hands together in a plea. “Just please keep this between us.” Her gaze dipped to the bouquet I held, and she smiled. “Are those for me?”
I huffed out a laugh. “Yes and no.”
“I’d apologize,” her smile morphed into a cunning look, “but it seems like the massage went well?”
“Very well. Where can I find Bree?” Saying her name aloud stiffened my cock to half-mast.
Marissa narrowed her eyes, her smile gone. “How do I know you’re not a killer?”
Well, that was a tricky question. I was a killer. “I’m not going to kill your sister.”
“That’s what a killer would say.” She crossed her arms.
“Are you always this stubborn?”
“Do you always bring your masseuse flowers?”
I stared at this tiny creature who showed no fear of talking to me this way. Her sister was either extremely fortunate or extremely unlucky. I had a feeling it was both.
She relaxed her arms. “I’m a little protective, you know?”
“No judgment. I would like to ask your sister out to dinner.” I raised the bouquet and winked. “In person, preferably.”
Marissa’s smile returned. “Just promise you’re not going to kill her. Or stalk her, Or maim her. Or?—”
“I won’t do anything she doesn’t want me to do.”
Unless she begs me to, I thought, stifling a groan as I imagined an intimate scenario involving handcuffs.
She nodded, satisfied. “She’s at Subliminal.”
Confusion laced my thoughts again. “The gym? She trains there?”
“Oh gods, no. She’s… Well, you’ll see.” She glanced down at her watch. “I gotta get back before they come looking for me. Good luck!”
Twirling on her toes, Marissa was gone before I had a chance to process the last part of our conversation.
