Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“That’d be great. I’d hate for you to ruin your clothes.”
Rayne didn’t want them focusing so much on that. He couldn’t care less about his shirt; he had more. “Please let that be the least of your concerns, Ms. Vanessa. I hope my school sent over my transcripts.”
“Yes they did. Holistic Arts emailed it over this morning. You have an amazing background, Rayne.” She turned with her head down, her dark eyes on the open manila folder in her hands, and bumped into Tiffany. Vanessa frowned, glancing back and forth between her two front-counter employees as if she was confused. “Ladies, can you get back to the reception desk, please? Thank you.”
Beth and Tiff giggled at each other, then went back to the counter just as a woman hurried through the front door, checking her watch. She looked flustered as she leaned heavily against the desk and apologized for being late.
Vanessa tapped Rayne on his forearm. “That’s your four thirty, Janice Duncan. Come with me. I’ll show you the employees’ locker room, and you can put your things away.”
Rayne did as she instructed, excited and ready to jump back into doing what he used to enjoy. He’d freshened up on his previous coursework over the last few weeks just in case Vanessa quizzed him on any of the fundamentals. A lesson he’d learned from his previous life was to always do his homework and be ready for the unexpected.
“We’ve got platinum-tier members that are allowed to sign up for a free massage with a student once a month.” Vanessa led him down a long, carpeted hallway, passing several closed doors and a large curtained-off area that had tanning beds and a sauna room. She pushed open a frosted glass door that said Employees Only. “They’re not charged for the hour, but they are allowed to tip.”
She pointed to an open locker. “You can put your things in there. I saw you had amazing marks on your Swedish massages, so I’m going to start you with what you’re most comfortable with.”
“Sounds good.” Rayne hung his jacket and messenger bag in the locker, then closed the door. “I also have extra credits in Himalayan salt stone massages, reflexology, deep tissue, and trigger points.”
Vanessa was reading over his paperwork while Rayne went to the row of sinks. He pulled his hair into a tight bun, then washed his hands up to his elbows, knowing she was monitoring everything he did.
“I see that.” She closed the folder and placed one hand on her hip. She was wearing the black scrubs she mentioned were standard as she motioned to his clothes again. “Are you sure you’re okay to complete two hours tonight? You have another Swedish with aromatherapy after Janice.”
Rayne gave her a confident smile, knowing he was about to impress the hell out of her. “I’m ready.”
“All righty then. I will be in the room monitoring you with the client. I won’t speak or give any instruction. My job is to evaluate your skills and technique.” She raised one sculpted brow as if she’d suddenly remembered something. “Oh. And I understand that you haven’t practiced in a while.”
Rayne knew the months he’d stopped working on his hours to focus on his recovery was the only blemish on his record. But all he needed was a chance to prove that he could do this. “Um, yeah. About a year, but I practiced on friends and family regularly.”
She gave him an understanding look. “Hey, life happens sometimes, right?”
Rayne nodded, appreciative that she didn’t ask for more details about his gap in schooling.
“Here’s Janice’s intake questionnaire. You can look it over and get familiar with her information while I show your client to her room.” Vanessa’s tone was bubbly and energetic. “Take a few minutes to yourself, and then meet me in room nine.”
When she was gone, Rayne took a few breaths and did as the manager asked. He took some time to prepare himself to be exactly what his client needed him to be. Because when he was in that room, he didn’t matter. Everything he said and did would be for his client’s pleasure.
Needless to say, he had this.
Rayne tapped on the door and walked in after a woman called out, “I’m ready.”
The lights were already lowered, and Zen-inspired music was playing softly overhead. Vanessa was sitting on a stool in the corner with her pen and clipboard poised to go, and his client was perched on the edge of the massage table in a thick white robe. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she hurriedly pushed a few wayward strands from across her forehead as Rayne gave her his most thoughtful smile.
“Hello, Janice. I’m Rayne. Thank you for coming in and giving me a try this afternoon. How are you feeling?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the manager write something on her paper, but he didn’t let it distract him.