Page 22 of The Summer Request
“I guess.” She let out a groan. “Unless the police are already at the hotel. Do you think I can change out of this outfit before I go to jail?”
“Of course!”
Michelle was struck by how familiar this all felt: Val with her endless bravado, and Lisa with her spiraling anxiety. It wasn’t a perfect match, but it worked.
“Justine would’ve loved that,” she yelled over the wind.
Lisa turned around, the frown on her face finally breaking into a crooked smile. “You’re right. She would’ve died laughing at you yelling at that woman.”
Michelle nodded. She thought so, too.
They got back to the hotel in record time, thanks to Val’s aggressive driving. They changed out of their cleaning outfits and their “butler” met them for lunch.
Michelle didn’t like the butler situation at all. Apparently, being in the penthouse suite meant they got personalized attention. There was nothing more mortifying to Michelle than personalized attention.
Val and Lisa, however, thought having a butler was delightful. Lisa reacted to everything the guy said with oohing and aahing, like he was some sort of revelation. Val hit on him, and Michelle remained polite but awkward.
The lunch he’d arranged was exquisite. They started with Florida littleneck clams in a carrot vinaigrette, then moved on to a smoked mahi-mahi salad with fried plantain chips. Next up were truffle jalapeño fritters, followed by an option of either Chilean sea bass or ricotta and butternut squash agnolotti. Dessert was a shared chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream, toasted marshmallow, and a peanut butter ganache.
It was far, far too much, in that decadent way that was so rarely worth it. This time, however, it was worth every bite. Michelle told herself this as she took one last spoonful of brownie. She hadn’t meant to stuff herself, but she couldn’t help it. The food was too good, and the view of the ocean was too enchanting. For the first time on this entire escapade, she felt relaxed.
Val sat back with a grunt, half of her plate untouched. “Fancy hotels, man. They know how to do it. But you know what?”
“What?” asked Lisa, polishing off the last of the melted ice cream.
“You get used to itsofast. You don’t value nice things for long.”
Lisa let out a sigh and adjusted her neon-pink visor. “I’d love a chance to get used to this.” Apparently unsatisfied with her sun protection, she popped on her sunglasses, too. “You guys really don’t think we’ll get in trouble?”
“I’d like to see Lou try,” Val said. “If he says anything, we’ll just tell all the little Emerald Warriors about his secret family.”
“That’s honestly a good point,” Michelle said. “He has a squeaky-clean image and acts like he’s perfect to all those poor souls.”
“He’s just a liar,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “At least Justine was honest. She never claimed to be perfect. She never tried.”
“That’s why he dumped her,” Val said, sucking loudly on the straw in her empty drink.
The butler noticed immediately and ran off to the bar, returning with a replacement drink moments later.
“He’s just one of those guys,” Lisa said. “Nothing is ever enough for him.”
Michelle nodded. “Amen.”
After lunch, they were scheduled for a day at the spa. Michelle had never been to a spa and felt uncomfortable with the whole process. She didn’t like getting undressed, she didn’t like the overly calming music, and she didn’t like walking around in flat, weird slippers and a borrowed fluffy robe.
How many people had worn this robe? What if they’d had scabies? Her skin was crawling.
Naturally, Lisa and Val didn’t share her fears. They loved the rejuvenation facial and requested additional neck massages to go along with it. Michelle felt like the standard arm and hand massages were more than enough discomfort and declined any additions.
Then it was time for the full-body massages. Val opted for a terrifying-looking cupping massage, which she insisted would make her feel “reborn.” Lisa got a standard Swedish massage, and Michelle asked for the one that had the least amount of touching. Her masseuse laughed, sure she was joking.
She was not. She ended up with a hot stone massage, and despite the first moments of awkwardness, after a few minutes of her muscles being pressed in just the right way, she felt herself forgetting her sheepishness and turning into a puddle.
Lastly, they had manicures and pedicures. Michelle didn’t enjoy getting her nails done, but she was willing to try it since the massage had gone so well.
It took an hour, which was way too long, and it turned out she still didn’t like having anyone touch her hands or feet. At least her nails looked lovely in a shining coral red.
When they were finally done with the spa, Michelle suggested they all go upstairs and take a nap, but Val wouldn’t hear it. She insisted they needed to rent a cabana on the beach.
