Oral Care

Chapter 1: The Getaway

Evelyn Whaley

"Oh brother, not again. Take a hint, Miguel." I mutter, tempted to turn my phone off completely. He knows it's over or at least he should. I'm sitting in the sanctuary room of a lavish spa on my solo getaway in the lap of luxury, my little treat to myself for landing my latest contract. I knew I'd be buckling down with no vacation in sight until the end of this project so why not treat myself?

My best friend thought I was cleansing myself of all things Texas, including the boyfriend I didn't want and the too close for comfort family invasions in my life. Yeah, I was happy to be getting away from Texas. Of course my family thought I was just temporarily relocating. They didn't understand how stifling I found the setting that they saw as charming and wholesome. I didn't want to be like my brother and sister, living within a ten block radius of my childhood home, running into the same people they've known for years and years.

I liked traveling. Meeting new people who I didn't have tenth-grade gym with. Exploring different walks of life by immersing myself in them. I understood the privilege I had to have the education and means to live like this. My family saw it as being aimless and immature. But at close to thirty, I am living my life, not wasting away in a dusty town with the same boring people.

I shove my phone back into the pocket of the fluffy robe I'm wearing and sigh contentedly. My phone buzzes to let me know that Miguel left me a voicemail. Again. When I met Miguel, he was supposed to be a short-term fling. His work had brought him to the area temporarily, we connected intellectually, and we went to bed together with no promise of a repeat performance. But he was good in bed and he made me laugh so it happened again and again until he tells me one night that he applied to make his position permanent and that he was falling for me. Record scratch.

What Miguel didn't know when he followed his heart was that I had already been applying to get the hell out of Texas. A one-way ticket and I didn't intend to have a travel buddy. But Miguel was trying every angle to get a golden ticket to come with me. I never wanted a boyfriend. He knew that. Yet here he was sending me countless texts. Oy.

Alright, relaxing. Deep breaths. I let my eyes close. I wish I was getting a massage, but there weren't any openings. A pedicure, a facial, and time in the sanctuary lounge. Sounded good to me.

I smell a pleasant scent - spice, cedar, and a hint of tobacco. I blink my eyes open and see a dashingly handsome man strolling through. Tall, groomed, and brooding. His brow is furrowed like he is deep in thought.

His eyes flit to me briefly and I think he is going to stay lost in his storm clouds. But then his hazel eyes connect with mine, my breath catching from the sheer impact. He grins, his white straight teeth flashing like an advertisement for toothpaste.

"How is it?" His voice is low and playful.

"What?" I ask dumbly.

"The serenity." He inhales deeply and I find myself wondering what his body looks like under that robe.

"Overrated." I joke and he chuckles, warming me under my own robe.

"Local or vacationing?" He asks, plopping down caddy corner from me.

"Vacationing. You?" I ask curiously.

"Same. Well, I'm here for a wedding." He admits, stroking the scratchy brown hair sprouting along his chin and jaw.

"Yours?" I question. He grimaces and waves his hands in front of him. I laugh at his reaction and drop my voice. "Sorry. I forgot. This is the sanctuary. Nothing stressful."