Page 87 of Without You

Katie

“Your next client is here,” Maria, one of the stylists at the salon says, interrupting my precious thirty minutes of a break between clients today.

“What?” I cry. “I thought I had twenty more minutes.”

“You do, he knows he’s early and said he’d wait. Unless you want to start earlier.”

“I need to finish this first.” I point to my Cup O’Noodles. “I’ll be out in ten.”

“Just to say, I’m super jealous that I’m not a massage therapist right now.”

I take a bite of noodles and turn my head to the side. “Why’s that?”

“That guy out there? Your next client?” She fans herself. “Wicked hot.”

I love when she says wicked, especially in her New England accent. “Wicked hot, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Like, this guy should be on magazine covers.”

Brody’s here? As a client? Hunger forgotten, I set the noodles on the table and wipe my mouth, rushing out of the break room.

Rounding the corner, I halt in my steps.

It’s not Brody.

Uh… so he is stalker?

Maria runs into my back with an oof then giggles. “Right?” she whispers. “I told you! Can you even?”

“I can’t.” I swallow hard then turn my head to whisper, “He… he’s my client?” I ask, confirming and grateful that Elijah still hasn’t noticed me. I turn to face her. She’s positively giddy, one step away from dancing on the balls of her feet and clapping excitedly.

“He is. I’m dying for you. Like… dying. How are you going to rub on him and not… I don’t know, lick him or something? I’m not sure I would be able to resist that!”

A laugh bursts out of me. “Lick him?”

“Look at him!”

“I think I’ll have plenty of time to look at him.”

“All of him. You should tell him he needs to be naked!” she squeals.

“Maria!” I hiss. “Shh!”

“He’s got those wireless earbuds in his ears. He can’t hear us,” she explains.

“Been staring much?”

“Uh, yeah! Of course I have been!” she cries unapologetically. She fluffs her hair and gently shoves me aside and approaches Elijah. He looks up at her from his chair. “Elijah?”

“Yes?”

“Katie is ready for you,” she says, gesturing to me. I stand like a deer in the headlights, my jaw dropped.

When our eyes connect, he smiles wide and stands up. In the same ball cap pulled down low, just like he wore the first time I met him, a pair of perfectly faded jeans, and a camel colored canvas jacket, he’s dressed like every other guy in Benton, Tennessee. But something tells me that’s not something he did intentionally. Aside from the fact that his boots and coat look well-worn, the outfit matches the guy. He doesn’t look like he’s playing dress up. I have no idea why I focus on his clothes, call it self-preservation, maybe? Paying attention to the little things in case I need to, I don’t know, file a police report later.

Wow. I really need to stop listening to so many true crime podcasts. For real. They’re making my imagination run wild.

“There she is.” He grins, seemingly happy to see me and behind me, Maria whispers, “Wow”.

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