Page 46 of Into The Light

“I hope it comes true.” Mark plucked the smoldering candle from the frosting. “Now, eat your cupcake, put on a robe and come meet me in the living room. It’s time for my present.”

“You got me a present? How? You only found out it was my birthday in the middle of the night?”

“Oh, sweetie, have you not met me? There’s a reason Aiden keeps me around. I’m really good at getting shit done.” He winked and walked to my door. “You. Robe. Downstairs.”

It only took a few oversized bites to consume my cupcake. My chocolate-covered fingers stained the white paper from the folded note when I picked it up from my lap.

After looking at my name written on the outside of the thick, formal vellum, I flipped it open.

Happiest of birthdays to you. Please, enjoy your day with Mark. I have a special surprise for you this evening. I look forward to seeing you tonight.

-Aiden

He had written me a birthday note. And a surprise tonight? This was too much to process before I had coffee. Hopping out of bed, I tossed on a white terrycloth robe and I headed downstairs. Mark stood in the living room wearing a giant grin and a lady on each arm.

Furrowing my brow, I let my expression ask what the hell was going on and who were these strange women in the house.

“Emilia, this is Rosie and Lucy. They will start off your birthday morning with a massage. It’s a couple’s massage.” He grinned and placed his hand beside his mouth, whispering, “Hint: I’m the other half of your couple. I’m getting one, too.”

I had never had a massage before, at least not a professional one.

“Well, are you coming or not?” he asked.

A grin spread across my face as I nodded my head, then I skipped the rest of the way down the steps. I threw myself into his arms and wrapped by arms around his waist. “Thank you, Mark. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me! A massage? I can’t believe it!”

“Oh, sweetie.” He kissed the top of my head. “You’ve been so sheltered. We’re just getting started.”

“What—”

He didn’t let me finish. Instead he yanked my arm and led me to the garden where Rosie and Lucy had two tables set up, side by side. Lucy placed a mimosa in my hand and helped me down onto the table. I took a few swigs before handing it back to her and lying face down.

“Just relax and enjoy,” she said while she took off my robe and covered me with the soft, white blanket. She worked magic on my body between sips of mimosas and coffee. Mark and I barely spoke as we spent an hour and a half having every ache and pain removed by very talented hands. I tried not to be sad when it ended, but Mark assured me more fun awaited us.

With a thank you, we hopped up, and he pulled me to the poolside. There stood two men with reclining chairs and bubbling foot baths in front of them.

Mark held up two fingers. “Two words, Emilia. Mani. Pedi.”

“Really? I’ve never had one of these before either!” I squealed.

He pulled a face. “Seriously? I thought you grew up in Milwaukee, not St. Olaf with Rose.”

“Shut up, Mark.” I jabbed him in the shoulder.

After we settled into the chairs side by side, the two men massaged our feet and hands. I moaned and sighed as they buffed, oiled, clipped and painted. When they finished, we sat back and stared at our perfectly manicured fingers and toes. Red decorated mine while Mark had opted out of polish.

Mark’s signature saucy grin lifted his lips when he turned to me. “Ready for round three?”

“There’s more?” My heart skipped a beat. Already overwhelmed by the pampering, I couldn’t fathom what else awaited me.

With an eyeroll, he huffed. “Of course, there’s more. Yesterday you asked me to stop by Walmart the next time I was out and pick you up a box of your favorite hair color. Remember that?”

I nodded my head.

“I still can’t believe you asked me to go to Walmart. As if I would ever.” He scowled and shuddered. “Follow me.”

Mark pulled my hands and hoisted me up to my feet. I didn’t resist as he tugged me back into the house. There in the kitchen stood a gentleman and what appeared to be a hairstylist’s chair.

“Emilia, meet Rocko Delboa. He is the colorist to anyone who is anyone in Chicago. He’s also the genius behind keeping me looking like a natural sun-kissed blond year-round in the Midwest.”