The Spa
Chapter 3.
“Right this way,” the red-haired attendant guided Denise down the hall and then motioned to a door on their left. “This is just a changing room,” she added as she opened the door and turned on the light. “There’s a robe hanging up on the wall there, and in the pocket of the robe is the key you can use to get back in here later. It’s completely secure and private—only you will have access. So, don’t lose your key!”
“Thank you,” Denise smiled as she walked in. The room was small, a bit bigger than a changing room at a department store, with a full-length mirror, a counter, and a few hooks on the wall. She set her tote up on the counter and turned to face the attendant.
“I’ll be back in a bit to escort you to your first treatment. Which would you like to start with—massage, facial, mani/pedi, hair?”
“I’ve never had a massage,” Denise admitted, “so I think I’ll start there if that’s okay!”
“Of course. At the New You Spa we cater to our clients’ wishes. I’ll check to see when the next massage room will be open. You’ll probably want to remove everything, including your jewelry.” And with that the attendant closed the door and left.
Denise took a deep breath... the room smelled fresh, clean, much like the entire spa had since she first walked in. She reached back, unzipped her dress, and let it fall to the floor before stepping out of it and carefully folding it, then placing it on the counter. Then, as she stood before the mirror, she unhooked her light pink bra, pushed down her matching panty, and after folding both added them to the pile.
She stood in front of the mirror, wearing just her heels and jewelry, admiring herself for a few minutes. All those early morning trips to the gym really have paid off! Denise thought as she turned one way and then the other, posing. Her body wasn’t perfect—her abs could still be a bit tighter, her legs and arms were toned but probably could be even more so—but she was proud of the way she looked.
As she finally turned away from the mirror and began removing her jewelry, she heard some muffled voices coming from the next room. Quickly she finished removing her earrings, rings, necklace and bracelets, carefully placing them in a zipper pocket of her tote, and then she moved to the wall, trying to make out what the voices were saying.
“I’ve told you people before that I won’t keep coming here if you keep giving out these free passes to just anyone.” Denise could clearly hear the voice of Ms. Devereaux, loud and insistent.
“Ma’am,” a much calmer female voice spoke, “we are in the business of finding the best customers and persuading them to come back over and over. We find that once they come here once, they keep coming back—that’s our business model.”
“Well I can tell you that the girl sitting next to me won’t be coming back. She’s a teacher. Do you know how little they make? Surely you can stop giving out free passes to the poor. It’s not a good look for such an upscale locale.” Ms. Devereaux’s voice hadn’t dropped a bit—it was obvious she was quite unhappy.
“We don’t judge our customers, Ms. Devereaux. If we only invited the super-rich like yourself, we wouldn’t have very many customers, now would we?”
“And THAT might be a good thing!” Ms. Devereaux blustered. “I think I’d like to speak to your MANAGER about this!”
“Of course, I’ll have her come in after your treatment. Just lay back and—”
“Don’t tell me what to do! Don’t you dar—”
And suddenly, there was quiet. Denise pressed her ear to the wall, straining to hear, but there was absolute silence. She stayed there a bit longer, and then stepped away, shaking her head in disbelief. She knew there were women like Ms. Devereaux in the world, she just never expected to be the victim of that form of abuse. She didn’t consider herself poor—she’d always had a roof over her head, clothes to wear, food to eat. Maybe she couldn’t afford the most expensive clothes or shoes or car, but she did the best she could with what she had.
She reached for the hanging robe and put it on, wrapping it around her ample bosom and tying it off around her waist. The she stepped out of her heels, her bare feet touching the cool floor. She reached into the pocket, making sure the key was there, and then quietly opened the door.
Sure, the attendant had said for her to wait there, but her curiosity was getting the best of her. She was extremely happy that the loud and obnoxious socialite had been ‘shut up’ but at the same time she had to know how they’d managed to do it so suddenly. She tiptoed out the door of her changing room, closing it carefully behind her, and then slowly stepped down the hall.
She saw another door just a few feet away. As she neared it, she saw that it was open just a crack. She peered inside.
She saw Ms. Devereaux, sitting in a reclining chair, breathing gently, with what appeared to be a moisturizing mask on her face. The woman’s arms were resting lightly, her hands in her lap. She could see the back of one of the attendants but couldn’t see what she was doing. As the attendant started to turn, Denise backed quickly away from the door, not wanting to be discovered. She backed up right into her own attendant who had just returned.
“Ms. Miller, were you looking for something?”
Denise turned, a bit flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, umm, I was...looking for you. I’m ready for my massage, which way do I go?”
“No need for you to find anything here on your own, that’s our job!” The attendant’s voice took on a cheery quality not unlike the receptionist’s. “Your massage room is ready, it’s a bit further down the hall, just follow me!”
Denise took a deep breath, feeling that her curiosity had been satisfied in one sense and piqued in another as she followed the attendant twenty feet down the hall...