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“Ta-da!”
“That was …,” I release a long breath, squeeze my eyes closed, and make fists to focus. “Unexpected.”
Bruce raises his eyebrows. I can tell he wants to laugh, but one look at the spot where he put the flask wipes the smirk from his face. I’ve figured out that it must be his. How Virginia knew it was there is beyond me, but drinking on the job is an offense justifying termination.
Virginia pulls my attention back to her. “It shouldn’t hurt to walk now. Do you have hydrogen peroxide back at your place? You need to clean this wound. It’s highly unlikely you’ll get an infection—I never have—but better safe than sorry.”
I stare at the chaos of red curls that haloes the smile I desperately need to kiss. The sensation of her tongue probing the ball of my foot echoes against my skin. I want that feeling on other parts of my body. My mouth opens, but I don’t know what to say.
“What?” Virginia laughs. “Have you got hydrogen peroxide in your palace or should I get some for you and drop it off at the front desk?”
“Yes, I have hydrogen peroxide. And since you put my life at risk of infection, I expect you to come up and make sure this wound is properly cleaned.”
14. Virginia
PRESSURE POINTS
It’s dark out by the time I finish cleaning the puncture in Will’s foot. I spend far longer making sure I did a good job than I would have if it had been my own flesh. And then there’s the bonus foot massage I give him, because how often does a woman like me find herself with model-perfect feet attached to a stunningly handsome man, stretched out on a couch, lying in her lap?
I close my eyes so I can’t see the bazillion-dollar condo I’m in and allow myself to imagine that Will and I could have a connection—a relationship-type connection. Over the last four weeks, working for Will Power & Bros., it has become clear that in another world, where Will was a normal human or where I had the right character, personality, and looks to fit in with the über elite, that we could’ve been more than after-hours friends.
The spark that tingled up my arm when I shook his hand on stage is now a pulse that fills my entire body whenever he’s in the room. And from the way he relaxes while I pulsate pressure points on the soles of his feet, I can tell he feels something too. I flash back to the flippant comment Savannah made about him needing to get laid. How is it possible that a man this wealthy, handsome, smart, and interesting can’t have any woman he wants at any time?
In a different life, I’d be throwing myself at Will’s feet.
I chuckle, realizing that’s exactly what I’ve done, in my own Virginia way.
“What’s so amusing?” he asks, tapping my thigh with his free foot.
“I was just thinking about how unlikely the odds were that I’d find myself doing reflexology ontheWill Power.”
“Interesting. I was just thinking about how unlikely the odds were that I’d ever let anyone into my home to do …”—he points and spins his finger toward my hands—“whatever it is you’re doing. Reflexology?”
“Reflexology lite, really. I’m hitting pressure points to help you relax. There are dozens of spots on our feet connected to our organs and body systems.”
Will cocks his head and furrows his brow. Does he realize how obvious he is when he doesn’t believe or understand something I tell him?
“You need proof?” I press my thumb deep into the outside edge of the arch of his right foot, just above his heel. I hold constant pressure for a silent count of thirty. “You should register something soon.”
“The only thing I’m registering is a need to urinate,” he says, wiggling his foot free.
“Point proven!” I cheer, my arms in the air.
“Proves nothing other than I’ve been sitting here drinking tea with you for an hour and now my bladder is full.”
While Will is in the bathroom, I open two diagrams of foot reflexology pressure points on my phone, one with labels and one without. Also, realizing it’s after nine, I figure I should be leaving, so I slide into my sandals and wait in the chair by the elevator door for Will to reappear.
“What are you doing?” he asks, looking confused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t offend me. I figured it was time for me to go. Your foot is fine, and apparently, you also have a healthy bladder and kidneys.” I hand him my phone with the unlabeled image. “Where was I just putting pressure on your foot?”
“Here.” He points to the spot.
“Swipe left,” I say. He does, and the labeled image replaces the first. “I applied pressure to your bladder, andmagically, you had to pee.” I reach for my phone, but he steps away with it. “Um, my phone?”
“I want to look at this.”
I follow Will back into his living room.
