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Good thing she had excellent staff at all three locations, and most of her clientele were regulars.
“Who is it?”
“Matt Alistair? This is his first time here. He said you met at some fundraiser?”
That was good. It was part of why she did those things. In addition to wanting to be a contributing member of society, it was also to get her business’s name known and drum up clients. She’d normally see the client once, then offer a “discounted rate” if they saw one of her therapists.
This wasn’t a very good first impression.
“Apologize for me profusely. Tell him I’m stuck in traffic and ask him if it’d be okay if another therapist worked on him today.”
Marjorie must have covered the mouthpiece with her hand because all Dakota could hear was muffled talking, then she came back on.
“He said he’d prefer you. He doesn’t mind waiting.”
Dakota was able to get in the left turn lane to make a U-turn.
“Okay. Let him know his massage today is on the house and apologize for me again. Have Angie do his intake. I should be there in fifteen.”
“Okay, I will. Drive safely.”
“You too. See you soon.”
She hung up then shook her head.
You too?
She just told Marjorie, who was sitting behind a desk, “you too,” in response to “drive safely”.
“I really need to get it together,” she said out loud.
She spent the drive to the studio trying to center herself. Normally on the day she was doing massages, she’d meditate in the morning. She wanted her energy to be grounded when working on a client.
Fortunately, the Universe was conspiring with her, and she hit all green lights—making it to the studio in eleven minutes.
Taking one last cleansing breath, she exited her Highlander and hurried inside.
“He’s in room three,” Angie said as Dakota washed her hands.
“Did he seem mad?”
“No, not at all. He’s super-hot though. He said he has a lot of tension and stress in his shoulders and lower back. He said that you said a massage would help his aura.”
That made her freeze.
Dakota never talked about auras with clients. There was only person she’d told that to recently.
She took the clipboard with the form he’d filled out and scanned his information, murmuring, “What did you say his name was?”
“I think he said Matt?”
“Not Matthewsss?” She emphasized the “s.”
Angie shook her head. “No, just Matt.”
She knew before she even opened the door who was on the other side. She could sense his presence.
“Sorry I’m late, Mr.Alistair.”
