Free Electric Blue by Nancy Bush Page B

a massage…or something…and this trip can be salvaged?”
    Girl Number Two made clucking sounds, checking her appointment book. “I just hate it when my girlfriend plans get ruined.”
    “Amen.”
    “Miriam Westerly,” my quarry introduced herself to Girl #1 in an abrupt, breathless voice. “I’ve got an appointment with Trevin.”
    “Ah, yes, Ms. Westerly.” She flashed her pearly whites. “Someone will guide you to the relaxation room in just a moment. I’ll let Trevin know you’re here.”
    “Sure.” Miriam glanced toward the door to the inner sanctum, strolling to the center of the room and back again, fueled by nervous energy. Her eyes kept returning to the door.
    I felt she could use the relaxation room and wondered how I could get there myself.
    Girl Number Two told me, “You can have hot stone therapy with Bryce.”
    That sounded scary. “Um…any chance for a plain old massage?”
    “Deep muscle?”
    “Okay.”
    “Trevin’s our best…and Julia’s not in today…hmmm…”
    “How long will Trevin be?” I asked.
    The girl glanced at Miriam, then back to me…I tried to read her expression. Was I imagining the slight irony when she said, “Oh, it’ll be a while. Actually, I think Drago’s free. Let me check.”
    Drago? I wondered if I might have been too hasty. Hot rocks with Bryce sounded better.
    She put a call through to Drago as Girl Number One invited Miriam into the inner sanctum. Miriam bolted like a colt, scurrying inside as if she were about to wet her pants.
    Drago, as it turned out, was free. It was my turn to pass through the door, but I was escorted by my own girl guide who directed me down a thickly carpeted hallway lit by polished-nickel wall sconces. There was also ankle height lighting that guided our way in evenly spaced pools of illumination. We passed a door where a woman was moaning as if she were being tortured.
    My enthusiasm—already low—drooped ever downward.
    We entered a “holding” room. My girl gestured in the direction of the showers, explaining that they had lockers for my belongings. I could change my clothes there and lock them inside. I was to put on the Complete Me robe, and I would receive a key attached to a plastic wrist band with which to secure the locker. Then I was to come back here where I could avail myself of the showers—some of which were behind bamboo walls that left my head and feet visible—kind of like something out of South Pacific . And, please avail myself of the relaxation pool as well. She swept another arm and half turned toward the gently bubbling dark blue, glass-tiled pool that swept around one corner of the room. It was lit by directional spotlights and I could just see the top curved tile step that led into the water. The pool’s surrounding seat was adorned with clusters of ochre, white and red orchids. I didn’t hear much else of the tutelage, though my guide rambled on effusively, because my eyes were searching for Miriam. Either she was in the locker room or she’d charged right past relaxation to muscle thumping with Trevin.
    “…when you’re finished here just pass into the Autumn Room.” She half-turned toward a door done in more bamboo poles. The handles were wrought iron formed like small branches. “Take a seat there. Read a magazine. We’ll call your name when your body therapist is ready for you.”
    “Drago,” I said, gauging her reaction.
    She smiled blankly, as if the name meant nothing to her. I didn’t take it as a good sign.
    I gave the locker room a cursory search but no Miriam. An attendant handed me a plastic wrist band with a key attached, labeled with the letter G. She then gave me a white plush Complete Me robe that smelled faintly of vanilla. I inhaled deeply, before claiming locker G. Taking off my clothes, I stuffed them inside, then wrapped myself in the robe. The plastic wrist band was pale yellow, the key shiny chrome. I slipped the band over my hand and kind of enjoyed the feeling