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I swung around to stare at him. “What are we doing then, Sir?”
Albion gave my waist a soft squeeze that surprised me because it was comforting. “I’m checking in on a couple of work sites, and you’re assisting me.”
“I am?” If I leaned against his side and sniffed his ridiculously delicious cologne, no one was here to judge me, and he didn’t say anything about it.
He glared.
“Yes, Sir. Of course I am,” I said, clearing my throat.
He nodded, lips twitching once more as if he was holding in a smile.
Not long later, he was navigating his black Ford truck through the morning traffic. There wasn’t much of a rush hour in St. Loren, but I was confused because we were in the Business District and there weren’t any new buildings or renovations around here that I was aware of—though, that didn’t mean much.
I was stunned when he stopped in the street in front of Fire and Ice, a salon so expensive I’d heard about it because the women in the office had talked about it nonstop when it first opened—then even more after they’d fallen in love with the owner, Marceau. As far as I knew, he was mononymous, like Cher. The name of the business curved in bold, gold metallic letters above the roof, and the building had a sapphire-and-scarlet marble veneer. The stunning centerpiece of the eye-bending spectacle was a set of huge glass front doors. The left side was red and the right was a robin’s-egg blue.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He hit the button on my seat belt and leaned across me to open my door.
“Are you kicking me out, Sir?” I bit the tip of my tongue. I hadn’t been doing anything. How had I fucked up this bad?
“Yes,” he said gruffly, then nodded at the salon. “You have an appointment to be waxed. Everywhere. I know you don’t have much hair, but I want you to be smooth. You’re going to listen this time, right?” He barely blinked as he stared into my eyes.
“Yes, Sir,” I breathed out automatically.
“Good. Go.”
Feeling silly, I stumbled out of his vehicle and hit my knee before shooting up and brushing myself off. I was too rattled to feel more than a small spark of pain.
Albion shook his head at me, and I closed the door. He drove off and hadn’t said when he would be back. Taking a deep breath, I hurried to the sidewalk because someone else was speeding along toward me in the street, and I stumbled through the red door into the brightly lit waiting room. A smiling woman with long blond hair immediately hustled toward me. Her black dress showed off perfectly smooth legs that gleamed like silk.
“Are you Wade Lee?” she asked with a smile, and I almost swallowed my tongue when she handed me a small flute of what I quickly discovered was champagne. “Welcome to Fire and Ice!”
“Uh, yes?”
“Oh, just so you know, your package was booked, paid for, and generously tipped already,” she gushed.
I chugged the champagne as she grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward a hallway to our right. “Let’s go.”
“You, uh, already know what you’re doing to me?” I squeaked and followed her, clutching the stem of the glass so hard I was worried I would break it.
She laughed, a high tinkling sound. “Yes, Mr. Guthrie was very clear that he wanted you to be smooth all over when we send you back to him. He’s a very nice catch, huh?” she asked, giving me a long look out of the corner of her brilliant green eyes. It took me a second to decide that maybe they were contacts.
All I could do was nod.
“You must be very special to get this amount of spoiling, hon,” she said, maneuvering me right into a cozy room that smelled like something nice—maybe gardenias—and had soft music playing. There was a table that reminded me of a doctor’s office, and towels and other implements were laid out on nearby low counters. She directed me toward a small room to the side that was brighter and had a typical salon chair in it with a huge round mirror.
“We’re going to trim your hair first, okay?” She patted the top of my head. “Then you can go behind there and undress.” She pointed at a decorative black screen. “There’s a large towel for you. We’ll do what we can for your privacy. Have you done this before?”
“No, miss,” I said, shaking my head hard.
Her smile softened. “Oh, you’ll love it. I mean, not the actual hair removal, but the results are fantastic. And we’ll oil and lotion your skin. You’ll feel like a cloud all over.” She scrunched her fingertips into my hair.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and she kept talking as she hustled over to the salon chair and turned on the blue lights that ringed the mirror. I tuned her out as I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked the notification.
Xadrian: I’m coming over tonight at 6 to fuck you. Be ready. I don’t have time to play around. In and out. I have shit to do.
“But we’re not together anymore?” I whispered. The room felt as if it tilted, and I reached out to put my hand on the wall.
