L.A. Spa

Chapter Two: Just Say NO

Emma's POV:

"Emma, I need your help tonight." Was never something I wanted to hear from my boss. Especially when I already had plans for the night with my baby sister. Especially since the last time I had a free night off, it was a disaster at the new club opening with my friend Ember.

I winced, hoping she couldn't tell from looking at my retreating back.

"What is it?" I asked, still not turning around, my boss, Delaney, had a special trait to her; if I looked at her, I could never say the one simple word I needed to: "no."

"I need you to do an in-home massage tonight." I worked at a mediocre spa in downtown Los Angeles. Delaney was the owner of L.A. Spa. It was so old most of the building was grandfathered in, and stuff that should have been up to code wasn't. Even with this, we could get the typical tourist to stop for chair massages as they walked by or set up a cheap fifty-dollar session for the following day.

I turned as I had a plan forming. "Clarissa is on call tonight." She would have to cave if she knew I was not the on-call person. There were only a few clients that L.A. Spa traveled for; no one knew who they were since Delaney believed "our clients' privacy truly mattered." She held massage therapy higher than therapy with shrinks and whatnot.

Delaney was the only one who did house calls; she ensured her clients were adequately vetted before they could be put on the schedule.

"I can't have Clarissa do this one tonight; I need someone more professional who will keep their mouths quiet." I watched as she inhaled and then exhaled the smoke from her cigarette. You couldn't tell by Delaney's appearance that she was a smoker; her teeth were stark white, and when she smiled, I always wondered how much bleach it took for them to be that bright.

"Delaney..."

She cut me off before I could object and tell her I promised my sister I would listen to her practice tonight. "This client pays triple...." I hesitated, knowing that if she told me triple, it had to be more than this. It was very tempting. Delaney throws her hands up, her cigarette end burning red. "Fine, the gig pays five hundred."

There had been rumors that Delaney was filthy rich, and the more I calculated her cut per massage, I figured she was wealthy enough not to care about a house call if she couldn't make it.

"Why can't you reschedule this one?" I would take the job; five hundred dollars was a week's pay in one night. Kate, my kid sister, would have to understand.

"I can't lose this client, and I double booked myself tonight. Can you take it?"

I walked forward, throwing the door open to grab a portable table. "Yeah, I'll take it. Send me the address."

She smiled as she threw her cigarette down, smashing it with her foot. "Thanks." Her teeth once again glowed in the soon-to-be setting sun.