Page 42 of Summer Affair

“You know, it’s such a shame you don’t have anyone like Brad in your life,” Amy continued. “Someone to support you, take care of you. I don’t know how you manage being all alone.”

“I manage just fine,” Andrea replied, her voice steady. She moved to another knot, pressing down with just enough pressure to make Amy wince slightly. “I’m happy with my life.”

“Really? No plans to settle down? Start a family?” Amy’s tone was almost mocking.

Andrea took a deep breath, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions. She thought about her relationship with Dean, how it had grown unexpectedly fast. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. Part of her feared falling in love, scared that it would mean losing herself or getting hurt. She had always believed she wasn’t meant to settle down with one person, that her independence was her greatest strength. But now, she couldn’t deny the growing feelings she had for Dean. She didn’t want things to go too far too fast, yet she also couldn’t ignore how he made her feel—valued, cherished, and understood in a way no one else ever had.

“I have my own plans. They might not look like yours, but they’re mine.” She moved to start work on her sister’s legs.

“Well, I guess not everyone can have it all.” Amy sighed dramatically, casting a condescending glance back at Andrea. The words were dripping with smug satisfaction, a deliberate dig at Andrea’s choices and lifestyle.

Andrea bit back a retort, choosing instead to channel her frustration into her work. She knew that responding to Amy’s barbs would only give her sister more ammunition. Instead, she focused on her technique, using the rhythm of the massage to calm her own mind. The familiar motions helped ground her, reminding her of her skills and the satisfaction she found in helping others, even when the other was her sister.

Amy’s body was tight, knotted with stress and tension, likely from her own endless pursuit of perfection and approval. As Andrea’s hands worked over her sister’s muscles, she found herself feeling a twinge of pity. Amy’s life, for all its surface-level glamour, seemed exhausting. The constant need to outdo everyone, to be seen, to be envied. Andrea wouldn’t trade places with her for anything.

She moved to Amy’s feet, knowing this was the part her sister hated the most. Amy could barely tolerate anyone other than her overpriced manicurist touching them. Andrea’s touch was light but efficient, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she worked through the motions. She could feel her sister’s muscles tensing even more in resistance, a silent protest against the unwanted touch.

“Can’t you hurry up?” Amy snapped, her voice breaking the silence.

Andrea took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’m almost done,” she replied evenly, continuing her work with calm precision. She deliberately slowed her movements, adding a touch of firmness, just to make a point. Amy huffed but didn’t say anything more.

When she finished, she wiped her hands on a towel and stepped back, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. The session was over, and she could finally breathe again. Well, just as soon as her sister left, at any rate.

“All done,” she said, her tone neutral.

Amy sat up. “About time,” she muttered, swinging her legs over the side of the table. “I don’t know how you do this all day. It seems so…boring.”

Andrea just smiled, not rising to the bait. She had her own sense of satisfaction, one that didn’t rely on material things or other people’s approval. Amy slowly rolled her shoulders. “I suppose that will do. I have a meeting with some important people in a few hours, so I need to look and feel my best.”

“Good luck with your meeting,” Andrea said, already mentally moving on from the encounter.

“Thanks. Just another day in my fabulous life.” Amy smirked while Andrea left the room so her sister could shower off the oils and change back into her expensive clothes.

She was content with her life, her choices, and most of all, the person she was becoming. No number of snide comments could take that away from her. Dean’s support and the way he made her feel valued were a stark contrast to the negativity she always felt from her family.

When Amy left a few minutes later, Andrea felt both relief and frustration and a weight lifted off her shoulders.

As she cleaned up her room and prepped it for her next client, she focused on the good things in her life—the time she spent with Dean, the supportive people, her love for her work, and the potential for a future that was entirely her own.

That’s what mattered most to her. Had always mattered most. Would always. Friendships over family.

Chapter Thirteen

Dean was serving appetizers to the guests lounging on the pool deck when he noticed Amy coming out of the pool house. She carried herself with an air of entitlement, her designer sunglasses perched on her nose and a flashy handbag swinging from her arm.

The moment she noticed him, her smile widened and she arched slightly so that her breasts stuck out a little more. It was a move he and every other man knew very well, one that screamed the woman wanted attention.

As she approached him, he hoped she would pass by without saying anything to him. No such luck.

“Hey, Dean,” Amy said, her voice dripping with a forced sweetness. She took off her sunglasses slowly and gave him a once-over, her eyes lingering a little too long.

“Amy,” Dean replied, keeping his tone professional. “How was your massage?”

“Oh, it was just what I needed,” she purred, stepping closer. “You know, you look like you could use a massage yourself. Maybe we could schedule one for…just the two of us?” She winked, her intent clear.

Dean maintained his composure, even though the offer made his skin crawl. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

Amy’s smile faded, replaced by a look of irritation. “Too busy for a little fun?”