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Sure, her workplace wasn’t exactly my business, but I couldn’t help myself. The idea of some dick talking to her that way…
“He does it because he knows he can,” she said. “Spa jobs like that are hard to come by in this city, believe it or not. Competitive as hell. And Circus Maximus, as corny as it might be, is a really, really hot place.”
“Still. That’s no excuse. If I were there when he ran his mouth like that, I’d…” I shook my head, and I was sure Shania knew how to finish that thought.
“Listen. Thanks. I mean, not sure how I feel about you decking some guy right in the face on my behalf, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is your boss treats you like shit.”
“Yeah. No argument there.”
“But…there was something else about the conversation that I couldn’t help but notice.”
“What’s that? The weird new-age music my boss insists on playing twenty-four-seven?”
“Well there was definitely that. But I’m talking about the thing with you wanting to open up your own place. Is that true?”
“I mean,” she said, actually looking kind of sheepish at the idea. “Yeah, it’s true—true in the sense that it’s a dream of mine that’s starting to seem more and more impossible by the day.” She placed a hand over her mouth, as if she’d said too much. “Sorry. Don’t mean to be a baby about it.”
“No,” I said. “I want to know more.”
“Really? You want to hear about my kind of-ridiculous fantasy job.”
“As someone who has a kind of-ridiculous fantasy job, I sure do.”
She sipped and smiled. “OK. And before you say anything, I know it’s totally impractical and kind of crazy, but it’s what I want more than anything.”
“Shoot.”
“Well, like I said to Mr. Stump and what you overheard, is that I really, really, really want to open my own place.”
“That’s awesome. And you’d be killer at it, I’m sure.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?” she asked playfully. “And what makes you so sure?”
“Well, I only got a little of your massage skills before the, you know, thing with my dick flying out happened.”
“Sure,” she said, chewing on her lip for the briefest of moments.
“But you do good work. Like you’re a natural.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. I mean, I never thought that’s what I’d want to do, but the longer I’m in the business the more I love it.”
“Yeah?”
“You really want to hear about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I like to hear about people’s big, crazy dreams. Not to mention…”
“Not to mention what?”
“Not to mention you’re really hot when you talk about something you’re passionate about.”
“Is that right?”
“Mhmm,” I said. “I remember it back in college. You’d be talking about something you heard about in class, and your eyes would just light up. It’s sexy as hell.”
Another lip bite, this time accompanied by a soft redness to her cheeks. “The compliments keep on coming,” she said. “But you’re not going to hear me complaining.”
I laughed. “Anyway. Tell me about it.”
She looked suddenly sheepish and shy about the subject. “Really, it’s not much more than an idea at this point.”
“Ideas are something. Everything big starts with a small idea.”
She cocked her head to the side, a mildly impressed look on her face. “Wow. Very inspiring. Did you come up with that on your own?” She flashed me a smile to let me know she was only kidding.
“I think I might’ve actually been channeling my college guidance counselor for that one.”
“Really? You mean the one who told you to drop out and start a rock band?”
“He actually advised against that. Thought getting a CPA would be a better investment of my time and money.”
“Good line though. Looks like it could be on one of those motivational posters they used to put in classrooms.”
“The ones with hot air balloons or a tiger standing on a rock.”
She chuckled.
“Anyway,” I said. “You’re stalling.”
“Fine, fine. It’s that it’s so far into the future it’s almost not worth talking about.”
“Indulge me anyway.”
“OK,” she said, leaning against the railing next to me. “So at Circus Maximus we’re all about high-end clients. Celebrities, models…famous DJs—you get the idea.”
“I do,” I said, thinking about how hard her boss worked to win me back after the walk out incident.
“And that’s fine—they’ve got money, they can pay for it. And a day at the spa is…wow, few things can make you feel as good as something like that can. The way I see it, a spa day shouldn’t be a luxury for rich people, you know? Every woman, especially working women, single moms, girls in grad school spending sixty hours a week in the library, they should all have the chance to pamper themselves.”
“I like it. A spa for the people.”
“Something like that,” she said with a smile. “Massage is what I’m good at. And I bet I could find a ton of other girls in the city who’d be down with my idea. I’d able to do what I love for a living, and give something back in the process.”
