Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59690 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Good genes,” I quipped.
“I mean, obviously,” Ashleigh said. “Those Wrights and their eternal youth.”
Again, was that a compliment? Or did she hate us as much as my family hated hers?
“We’re lucky like that,” I said, trying for nonchalance.
“Luck,” another girl said with a laugh. “Or the money from a Fortune 500.”
A girl flattened a finger down her nose. “Whoever did yours was incredible.”
“Agreed. Oh my God, I was just going to say the same,” another girl said. “You’ll have to give us your surgeon’s name. Are they here in Lubbock or back where you’re from? Where is that again?”
“Seattle,” Ashleigh filled in.
“Surgeon?” I asked in confusion.
“Y’all,” Elsie said with an eye roll. She met my uncertain look. “They want to fix their botched nose jobs.”
A gasp came from the girls.
“I didn’t say ours were botched!”
“I’ll give you the name,” I said even though I’d never had a nose job myself. “If you need the help.”
Ashleigh laughed as if the chaos was where she thrived. “Oh, I like you. I see why brother dearest likes you, too.”
Elsie huffed next to me. “Ashleigh.”
“She’s fine, Els. Don’t hover like my mother.” Ashleigh winked at me. “We’re just having fun, aren’t we?”
“Sure,” I said because what else could I say?
Elsie looked uncertainly between us. “Come on. You can sit with me.”
I took a seat next to her on a chaise and accepted a mimosa. My hands were a little shaky as I took a sip of the champagne. I could stand up to much more formidable foes, but I felt that same little girl shit I’d felt growing up when the cool girls looked down on me. Turned out, people in high school didn’t like when you were confident. Correction: people anywhere.
I was only seated a minute before the door opened and names were called. I jumped from my seat and followed the masseuse for my first of many treatments. Ashleigh had scheduled a massage and facial for every girl. Plus professional hair and makeup before we went out. There were optional add-ons that I was sure many of the girls were getting, but I wasn’t sure I needed a body scrub or a manicure or red-light therapy. Or at least my wallet said I didn’t.
I had to hand it to Ashleigh though. There was a reason this place cost a fortune. It was easily the best massage I had ever had in my life. I left the table feeling dizzy with the release of tension. My hips in particular holding all the tension from the new ice skates I’d purchased to use on the Tech ice. Not to mention my ankles. Ankles were not meant for new skates.
My facial was rejuvenating and mildly painful as the girl chemically peeled my face off. By the end, I looked like a glazed doughnut. Somehow in the best way. Yes, I was only twenty-two, but my skin glowed like it never had before. Apparently, it was the perfect base for the makeup artist, who declined my request for dark and smoky and heavy eyeliner for the softest, most natural look that I’d ever worn with the only concession being the winged liner. Combine that with the perfect blowout, and I somehow looked older. Also like I fit in with these other girls. It was disconcerting, to say the least.
When I finally made it back to the private room, there was only one other girl there. I didn’t recognize her from when I’d first gotten here.
“Hey, is this still for Ashleigh?”
“Oh, yes, come in. I’ve been alone for ages. My fault for getting here early,” she said with a laugh. “I absolutely need girl time. Sit. Sit.” She patted her oversize chaise.
I crossed the room, wariness in my shoulders that the masseuse had just worked out. Was this girl like all the others? I’d handled myself just fine, but I didn’t know if I needed to have my guard up.
“How was your service?” she asked, passing me a mimosa.
“The best ever,” I admitted.
“I know, right? This is the best spa I’ve ever been to. Your first time?” she guessed.
“Yeah. Is it that obvious?”
“Nah, I just didn’t recognize you. I’ve been coming to Ashleigh’s retreats for a while. Most of the girls are pretty recycled, if you catch my drift.” She laughed and brushed her shoulder-length blonde hair off of her shoulders. She had sideswept bangs and dark blue eyes, like she’d stepped out of a New England storm.
“I also got that impression.”
“Ashleigh is sweet somewhere down deep,” she told me. “She just hides it behind pettiness. And new girls always get the brunt of it. Don’t take it personally.”
“Thanks.”
“You live in Lubbock?” she asked.
I nodded. “You?”
“Can you believe I fly in from Houston for these when I can? Just for this stupid spa.”
“Houston?” I asked in surprise. “Wow. That is quite a trip for a spa.”