With that little pep talk in mind, I made my way out of the house and through the alley to the salon. The doors were unlocked when I got there, the OPEN sign bright in the window. Mali was behind the desk, checking in a middle-aged man and woman for a couple’s massage. I was glad I came in as they were being escorted to the room so that I didn’t have to take them. The woman looked really excited about it. He looked annoyed, as if his wife had dragged him there to work on their relationship or something. You could always tell. That’s why couple’s massages were my least favorite thing. I’d rather rub a client’s thick, callused heels, and I really hated doing that.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Mali said when she returned. “Or maybe not?” she asked, her eyes searching my face. She could always see right through me.

“Hangover,” I offered. I thought it was best to admit at least half of my problem.

She took in my wet hair, puffy face, and bleary eyes. “Hmm,” was all she managed.

It would be a long day if Mali, of all people, started getting on my nerves.

“Is Elodie here?” I asked. I couldn’t see the calendar from where we were standing.

“Yes, and on time,” Mali told me, nodding in approval, and maybe making a little dig at me.

“Elodie’s not late that often.”

“Your client is here,” Mali said abruptly, looking toward the door.

“I don’t have any clients scheduled—”

“Not true,” she said. “Here. Look at the schedule.” She pointed to the name scribbled on the little blue line that said “10:00”

“Did someone move their appointment? I can’t read this,” I said to Mali.

The bell dinged behind me, and Mali turned to address the customer in her sweetest voice.

“Mikael? For an hour deep-tissue at ten? That you?”

I nearly choked on the air when I turned around and saw Kael.

Sure enough, there he was, wearing a gray T-shirt and joggers. They were black, tight on his legs, with a big Nike swoosh on the thigh. He looked exhausted, or hungover. Like I was.

“Kael,” I said, as if I had to tell myself that he was actually standing there.

“Hey,” he replied.

Hey?

Was he here to talk to me? Or to get a massage? Both?

It was all too much.

He waited patiently while I collected myself and checked his name off the schedule. I stared at Mali until she walked away reluctantly and with a smirk imprinted on her face. I looked at Kael and felt the tape of the last twenty-four hours unwind.