The Timing of Love

Chapter 10

The next morning, we were already on the road by nine. We kissed Camilla goodbye and went to drive to our happily ever after. Joking. We stopped at a café to grab breakfast before we went to the spa. It was around eleven when we checked in. We were relaxing while two ladies were massaging our backs.

"I hope there are some good-looking fellows tonight," Amelia said before moaning. The masseuses were really good. "I swear, I can feel my virginity crawling back up my legs."

I laughed. "It's been three weeks, Amelia. Come on," I said, rolling my eyes. "You made it sounds like you're a sex addict."

"We may have broken up three weeks ago but our intimate parts were practically strangers in the last two months before that."

"Are you serious?" I gasped. "You should have realised there was an issue then."

"Well, excuse me for believing in platonic romance," she said and I could feel her rolling her eyes.

"Platonic? What could you possibly talk about with his stupid face? Besides, didn't you hook up with Dean?" I asked.

"Oh, I bailed out on him when I saw his small dick. He was asking for a blow. A French fry is bigger than that," she grunted.

"Holy crap, what did you say?" I asked, chuckling.

"That my cat died," she sighed out. She killed so many non-existent cats over the years.

"Shit. All that ego and cockiness. But who knows, maybe he's got real actions," I wondered out aloud. You never know, a small dick can make you find new ways to pleasure."

"I for one will never know or try to again," she said and we laughed. "How do you do it? Not having sex for three years?" she asked. Then, she lifted her head and realised something. "Do you own a vibrator or a dildo, Elle?"

"What? No!" I was quick to deny. "It's easy, right now, I can't imagine myself with boys in that way and you know it."

She shrugged. Then, our nails were manicured and painted. We looked relaxed when we strolled to the hair salon. We were greeted, seated, and offered champagne. The pros of having your parents' money were to be treated like that. My dad was a fervent and well-known businessman, a tycoon, an expert in cars and other vehicles, hotels, and restaurants. He started up in Europe and expanded to America where he met my mom, a fashion designer. Her designs were frequently exposed during fashion week. She was so good at her job and popular that if by some miracle, my dad went bankrupt, we would still be rolling on money. I decided to use my mom's maiden name to avoid too many questions, both during high school and college. The name Bottier was too well-known and too quickly associated with my dad. Especially since almost everyone at college was rich and knew everyone in the society. Only my group of friends knew who my dad was. To say they were shaken when they learned that was an understatement. No words came out from their usual running mouth for a long time.

Other students always wondered how I got LaFleur, stating how expensive it was to rent. Little did they know that I owned it. I always tried my best to keep my foot on the ground though, despite all the money. I was an only daughter so my dad would cherish me with gifts that sometimes I would refuse. I refused the Lamborghini car since everything was within walking distance on campus and Camilla could drive me around or I would take the bus or train. I refused the expensive diamond jewelry as I was not a fan of bling-bling much. I encouraged my dad to fund the money to charity instead. And I refused when he offered to buy me a bigger house. LaFleur was enough and got that home feeling which brought me contentment.

We were having lunch after having our hair done when my phone rang. It was from Austin.

"Yes?" I asked when I picked up.