The Masseuse. Marianne Brun

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      Although Kate approached the massage parlor with the awkward, frightened steps of a woman four times her age, she was determined to start living again, even if it meant becoming someone else.

      Squashed between buildings, the two-story house looked innocent enough, with its light pink paint and tall grinning window to her left. The Beauty Suite, written on a silver plate on the wall, could have been easily overlooked. She concentrated on the brightness of the building so she could pretend, as she rang the bell and the sound ricocheted in her ears, that it was a different kind of place.

      All illusion ended when the door opened and the smell of air freshener filled her nostrils. The blond woman’s smile did not ease her anxiety. “Hi, you must be Kate.”

      Kate stiffened. She would not use that name here. She would not be weak and fragile within those walls. “I’m Jade.” Even before she went for the interview, she’d thought of the name. Jade is a hard stone, beautiful and elegant—everything she believed she was not. Her tall, slim body, creamy skin, long, curly auburn hair and large hazel eyes had made her feel beautiful once but it seemed like a long time ago. Now, at twenty-six, little of her old confidence remained.

      “Well, come in, Jade. I’m Sasha, the manageress. Let me introduce you to the girls.”

      Sasha led her down a narrow, carpeted corridor past the office on the left, where Jade caught a glimpse of a tall counter and an arm of a soft red chair half hidden behind the door. There was a closed-off room further down, and she swallowed back her anxiety as she wondered what was happening in there. The wooden stairs on the right wall seemed cramped, as if put in as an afterthought, and broke off a row of pictures, mostly sketches of a dancing female drawn so well her body seemed to escape the gray outline to run off the page.

      A living room with sliding doors was at the end of the corridor, and a woman with long blond hair who wore knee high boots and little else was stretching inside. Her leg was on the couch and she reached her upper body toward her toes, the strap of her g-string lost in the movement.

      “That’s Arlene, the fitness freak.” Sasha paused at the door and laughed when the woman glanced in their direction and stuck out her tongue.

      Jade was glad when Sasha turned to the small square courtyard on their left. The brash certainty in Arlene’s movement seemed almost masculine and it unhinged her. It made her feel like she didn’t belong.

      In a way, she didn’t. She had a choice, not like most of the women. She imagined they grew up in the business, had it thrown down their throats so young they were more comfortable parading around half naked and competing for the next john than living outside in the world being the Mary, Sue or Jill they started as.

      The girl sitting in the courtyard was a prime example. She was small—five foot nothing—but had breasts to make up for it and a gorgeous face, large blue eyes and a wide mouth. Her dark hair flowed down her back and touched her bum. She sat in the courtyard with her legs crossed and her breasts peeking out of her tight tank top.

      Sasha walked into the courtyard and Jade couldn’t help notice the way Nikki’s eyes lingered on the blonde woman’s face.

      Once Sasha introduced Nikki to Jade, she took her leave abruptly. Jade’s gaze moved slowly from Nikki’s open-toe heels to the short legs barely concealed under a white skirt, the flat stomach and the pert breasts to the friendly, accepting eyes, as though she had always looked at people through the eyes of a full body masseuse.

      Nikki accepted it, as if working in the industry had obviously made her used to close inspection. It was part of the normal work day.

      Jade’s heart fluttered from her act of boldness. “Hi.” She wanted to stop hiding, or “open up,” as Colin so often put it. She tried to picture his face if he found out his precious wife planned to parade around in high heels and black lingerie.

      “So you’re the new girl?”

      Jade nodded and walked to the small square table with the notion that Colin would want to come and watch her with a client. “Yes. Have you been here long?”

      Nikki shrugged. “Only since I got dumped.”

      Jade dropped her bag by her feet. She didn’t want to put makeup on yet, or feel the air on her skin. She wanted to crawl under the table and just observe. She needed to get lost in someone else’s life. “Who dumped you”?

      Nikki leaned forward, her feet barely touching the ground, and started to talk about her sugar daddy, Louis. He left her the week before with nothing but empty promises and the idea sex would buy her way in the world. Now she was in the parlor, walking up and down with a tiny skirt and her breasts heaving in her halter top.

      Louis and Nikki met when she was twenty, but only during the past year did they start having sex. She told Jade about going to his villa and gliding around in g-strings while she cooked. He watched her, his hard-on in his hands. He only had to nod and she would go to him. She easily wrapped her short, toned legs around his waist as she sat on him and he cupped her breasts. Other times she would take him in her mouth. It was how they had lived their days.

      She said she liked being told what to do, as if all control was taken away. She liked being thrown on the bed and him pushing her legs apart as he tore off her top. With his hand across her chest—as if she’d even think of escape—he would rip her panties off and release his penis. She would feel him enter her while he moved his fingers to her warm edges. She would moan with her clothes in shreds and the man’s trousers hanging around his ankles. She talked easily, as if she were sharing details about her favorite holiday location, so Jade didn’t feel uncomfortable.

      Nikki insisted her sugar daddy wasn’t old—somewhere between thirty and forty—and she whispered he had the best cock she had ever seen and she had seen many. He pretended to be wealthy so her lithe body would service him. It didn’t bother her now, although maybe it had last week.

      She also told Jade about her ménage à trois with Sasha and Sasha’s boyfriend. Jade hid her shock well. The sweat lining her palms, tucked safely between her legs and the chair, was the only indication of it. She didn’t doubt Nikki’s words. When Sasha had introduced them, there’d been a charge in the air. It had let Jade look over Nikki’s body without apology.

      It was the boyfriend’s idea, of course, and the three made love a few times, but Nikki believed Sasha tired of it.

      “Why?” Jade asked, lost in Nikki’s life as if it was a new drug. She didn’t want their conversation to end. She loved that Nikki trusted her so well and so quickly, as if she’d known her all her СКАЧАТЬ