Huh? Why? and Punch: A Silicon Valley Mystery (Book 5) by Marc Jedel

Author:Marc Jedel [Jedel, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BGM Press
Published: 2022-01-13T16:00:00+00:00

13

Saturday Mid-Afternoon

Meghan and I walked through the main hotel’s ginormous lobby and followed the signs down the hall to the spa. As we got close, I asked, “Did you know some people think the word ‘spa’ is actually an acronym? They think it stood for the Latin phrase ‘salus per aquam’ or ‘health through water.’ But it turns out that it all started from the name of a town in Belgium called Spa.”

Meghan paused outside the spa’s entrance, pulled me nearer the door despite my reluctance, and then tilted her head up to peck me on the cheek. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.” She smiled at me from so close that I couldn’t see her whole face. It was unsettling.

She pulled back. “Now stop it. They’re not going to hurt you.” Then she breezed past me and through the door.

I had no choice but to follow. I didn’t know whether to describe how I felt as a lemming or a lamb.

The spa smelled of lavender. I knew they intended it to be relaxing, but I was more of a scent-free kind of guy. As much as possible, I tried to avoid candle stores, perfume shops, and other places that believed overwhelming our senses with scents would make us more willing to purchase something. Especially tea shops. Besides, their prices were outlandish.

About the only kinds of smells that were acceptable in a retail establishment were baked goods and smoked meats—not that I’d encountered that particular scent combination often in retail establishments. But I’d definitely frequent a store that smelled like that, which was saying something, as the only thing I hated worse than shopping was shopping in a store overflowing with scents.

“Marty. Come on. They’re ready for us to go on back.” Meghan was standing at the front desk, where she must have checked in while I dawdled.

The receptionist escorted us down a hallway with more scented candles burning in the nooks that also contained small arrangements of flowers. I was relieved to note that the doors we passed were not see-through and were firmly closed. The small room we entered had two massage tables set up with blankets and padded pillows attached on the front. Soft, nondescript New Age music played from speakers in the ceiling. “Put your cellphones and any valuables in the lockbox right outside,” said the receptionist. “Then get undressed and lie down under the blankets on your stomach. Enjoy,” she added as she closed the door behind her.

That was easy for her to say; she didn’t have to navigate through the next hour.

Meghan quickly stripped down while I moved a bit more slowly—a combination of my nerves but mostly because I was watching her.

“You can keep your underwear on if it will make you more comfortable,” she said finally. “But hurry up already. They’ll come in here soon.”

That spurred me into action and I was on the table, face down, in mere seconds. I tried to get comfortable but the oval opening for my face didn’t seem to conform to its shape very well.

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