Angel's Touch (32 page)

Megan reached for her hand. “Let’s go.”

“It’s probably a false alarm,” Kira said, but she followed her out into the hall and toward the stairway, anyway.

“I hope you’re right.” Her legs wanted to run, but she forced herself to keep to a fast, purposeful walk.

They trotted down the stairs and made it down several flights before a small group entered the stairwell from a lower floor and impeded their progress. Megan’s nerves twitched with impatience. People just did not take these things seriously enough. It was a fire alarm, people. Get out!

“Almost there.” Kira tightened her grip on her hand.

Megan barely felt her touch. She was too focused on how good the heavy emergency exit door was going to feel beneath her hands when she pushed it open.

The door was already propped open when they reached it. Once she was out, the relief was immediate. They crossed the street and finally looked back. A steady trickle of people flowed out of the building from all sides. Kira led her farther down the street and into the shade of a sheltered alcove in front of a bank.

“You okay?” Angling her body so no one from the street would see, Kira smoothed the hairs on Megan’s forearm.

“Yeah.”

“How’s the hearing going? You winning?”

“God, I hope so.” Megan slumped against the support of the building’s marble façade. “I didn’t expect Barbara to lie so much.”

“Lying is the only way she could have convinced them to hold this hearing in the first place.”

“I know. When I read that thing in the mail it was obvious she had lied, of course. But I didn’t really believe she would go through with it.” Megan pounded the back of her shoulders into the wall. “I didn’t think she’d be able to lie to my face. All those times she complained about having to stay underneath a sheet. All those times. I fought her on that and
now
she accuses
me
of not wanting to drape her.” She would have kept banging herself against the wall if Kira hadn’t put her hands on her shoulders and gently pried her away from it.

“How did she even know there was a rule about using a sheet?” Kira asked. “I can’t see her figuring out that that would be enough to make you lose your certification.”

“I don’t think she did. What she actually accused me of was…was inappropriate…t-t-t…” Somehow Barbara had managed to say it in front of a roomful of people, but Megan was having trouble spitting it out to an audience of one. It wasn’t this hard when she talked to horny male callers on the phone, when she was the one in charge and had the moral high ground. “Inappropriate…” She still had the moral high ground. The only problem was that not everyone knew that. “…Inappropriate…”

“I know,” Kira said, saving her from the need to say more. Her fingers dug into Megan’s shoulders. “I wonder how she figured out
that
could make you lose your certification.”

Megan freed herself from Kira’s death grip. She was sure Kira meant it to be reassuring, but it was starting to be painful. “Good question.”

“It’s going to be all right.”

“I hope so. I hope the committee’s on my side.”

***

Twenty minutes later the firefighters who’d shown up shuffled back to their truck, looking bored that there was no fire. While Kira went in search of coffee, Megan followed the crowd back into the building. She wanted to hang back for a few minutes in case the firefighters missed something, but knew she had to go in.

When she reached the NTMCA office, Barbara was waiting in the reception area.

“They’re deciding what to do about you,” Barbara informed her. “They said we have to wait here for thirty minutes.”

Megan directed a fake smile at the receptionist. “I’m going to wait outside, if you don’t mind. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“I’ll let them know,” said the receptionist.

“They said to wait here,” Barbara said.

Megan kept her fake smile as she backed away, afraid to turn her back on her former client until she was out the door.

***

“Therapeutic massage is a service fraught with the potential for misunderstandings and sexual misconduct,” Ms. Poplin pronounced, reading from a sheet of paper. “The onus falls on the practitioner, who is taught ethical standards and boundary-setting, to create a safe environment and to protect the client from any real or imagined violation of boundaries. It is the responsibility of the practitioner to—”

How long was she going to ramble on like this? All her fidgeting outside while the committee made their decision had raised Megan’s anxiety level to the point where she could barely process what Ms. Poplin was saying.

“…guard against impropriety…”

“…highest ethical standards…”

Was this directed at her? Did they find her in violation? Did she misread them during the hearing? Megan stared at her hands clasped in her lap, her stubby fingernails digging into the flesh.

“We find Ms. McLaren to be not in violation of NTMCA standards.”

Megan slumped in her seat with relief. “Thank God.”

***

Megan woke with Kira’s arm flung across her ribcage, her fingers curled lightly around her arm, holding her even in sleep. She traced lazy patterns with her fingertips on Kira’s skin, reveling in how good it felt just to be near her.

“You have clients today?” Kira asked, her eyes still shut.

Megan snuggled closer. “Since I didn’t lose my license yesterday, yes.” She wished she could keep touching her for the next twenty-four hours. She’d have to get out of bed eventually, but right now all she could think about was here within reach.

“Are you free for lunch? We should celebrate,” Kira said.

“I thought last night was our celebration.” After Kira had driven her home, Megan had been so worn out from the hearing that she’d slept the rest of the afternoon. Kira had made dinner, and by then Megan was too well-rested to go back to sleep. She didn’t have any trouble talking Kira into an extended discussion on when it was appropriate for a vindicated massage therapist to remove someone else’s clothing, and how exactly it should be done.

Kira moved so she was on top of her. “I think we need to celebrate more. Don’t you?”

She totally agreed, but reality intruded. “Can we make it dinner? I have a couple of clients in the afternoon, but no one after five.”

“That long from now?” Kira moved against her enticingly.

“I could stop by at noon for a few minutes, just to say hi.”

“As long as stopping by involves this.” Kira angled her head to kiss her neck.

Megan’s hips started a slow, involuntary undulation. “Why do you think I suggested saying hi in person instead of over the phone?”

***

Megan’s phone rang a few hours later as she was walking to Kira’s hotel. She glanced at the number displayed on her phone and decided she might have to take Kira up on her offer of having the spa’s receptionist handle her calls, because why, why, why in the world was Barbara Fenhurst calling her?

Against her better judgment, Megan picked up. And instinctively yanked the phone away from her ear at Barbara’s screech of joy before she damaged her eardrum.

“I’m moving to Richmond!” Barbara announced.

Megan glared at the phone. She should hang up on her. But she did want to hear this—it sounded like good news for everyone. Cautiously, she moved the phone closer to her ear.

“I wanted to let you know so you can update your address book,” Barbara said.

“Okay.” Megan didn’t know quite what to say.

“I wish you could meet Derek.”

“Derek?”

“My new boyfriend. I’m moving in with him.”

“Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” She really was. And relieved. Barbara would be hours away, and in love—a combination that should guarantee she’d never hear from her again. She ought to send this guy a thank-you card.

“Isn’t it wonderful? And guess what? Derek is a masseur. He’s a professional, like you. And he’s such a hottie. We gave each other massages last night. Nude massages.” Barbara paused expectantly, but Megan really didn’t think this information deserved a response. Did Barbara seriously think this would make her jealous? Did she want her to regret what she lost when she turned her away? “He says I could do it professionally. Maybe a four hands kind of deal, where we both massage one person at the same time.”

Who was this guy? She was positive she knew all the massage people in Piper Beach, and he wasn’t one of them. “How did you meet?” Not on Derek’s massage table, she hoped.

“In Wilmington. I ran into him in the lobby yesterday after the hearing.”

“He works for the NTMCA?” That actually was more disturbing to her than the idea that Barbara was moving in with a guy she’d only met the day before.

“No, he was there for an ethics hearing, too. Sexual misconduct. It wasn’t his fault, though—the woman was out to get him. She won, but he’s going to get himself reinstated, and in the meantime he says he can still run his practice as long as he doesn’t call it massage.”

Megan swallowed the protest lodged in her throat. Sounded like those two deserved each other. She hung up and immediately called Kira.

“Guess what? Barbara’s moving to Richmond.”

“She called you?” Kira, not surprisingly, did not sound pleased. “She never gives up, does she? You’d think after what she put you through yesterday, she’d stop harassing you.”

“I think this may be the last time I hear from her. She can’t swing by my house if she’s in another state.”

“If you ask me, Richmond is not far enough away.”

“Richmond is good!” Megan protested.

“She still has a phone.”

“She won’t use it.” She’d be far too busy performing four-hands massage.

“Did I tell you I ran into her in the ladies’ room yesterday when we were waiting for the verdict? She thinks I’m the reason you won’t talk to her. She doesn’t seem to grasp that she did anything wrong.”

“She’ll forget about me eventually.”

“Maybe,” Kira said. “What’s she doing in Richmond, anyway?”

“She’s going to become a massage therapist.” Megan giggled, then clapped her hand over her mouth, appalled by her inappropriate reaction.

“I bet she just said that to piss you off. Since she lost at the hearing yesterday.”

“Let’s hope.”

“So when are you coming over?” Kira’s voice softened to a caress. “Soon?”

Her legs weakened and her stride faltered and slowed. “I’m already on my way. Is it still okay for me to drop by?”

“My dad’s here, actually, but he usually doesn’t stay long. Do you want to meet him?”

Fifteen minutes later Megan was inside the hotel lobby shaking hands with Kira’s dad, Jason Wagner.

“I was just telling Kira what a great job the two of you did with this property,” he said, beaming proudly at them both. “Kira, I’m going to send your mother out here for a massage once you’ve got the spa operational.”

“You should come with her,” Kira suggested.

He raised his hands, palms out, and shook his head. “Not me. I know you don’t want men setting foot in this place.”

“I can make an exception for you.”

“No need,” he said magnanimously.

“You’re just afraid Mom and I are going to talk you into getting a spa treatment.”

“Busted.” He winked at Megan. “But I’ll bet your spa’s going to be a hit with the ladies.”

Her
spa? Megan looked questioningly at Kira, who shook her head helplessly with a smile that said no, she hadn’t made her spa manager behind her back.

“Has my daughter talked you into sticking around yet?”

What was he talking about? Megan wanted to make a good impression, but that was hard to do when she felt like she’d missed a huge chunk of the conversation. She wished she’d asked Kira on the phone for details and found out what she’d told him about her—about them. Not that they’d even discussed the direction of their relationship with each other—they’d just fallen into bed together and assumed… Well, what
had
Kira assumed?

Mr. Wagner wasn’t done. “Has she talked you into working with her on her next hotel?”

Her next hotel? Megan looked at him stupidly. Was
that
what he meant by “sticking around”? She knew Kira had moved several times in the last few years, searching for the right properties to invest in, but somehow she’d assumed she would stay in Piper Beach for her next project. But that was dumb. There weren’t any other dilapidated hotels for Kira to transform in this small town.

Oh, no. Megan had been so trusting, so overconfident in her ability to sense what Kira was feeling, that it hadn’t even occurred to her to ask about her plans. When Kira told her she was going to get the hotel up and running before she tried to sell it, why hadn’t she thought to ask whether that meant in a couple of years, or in a few short months? Construction would be finished soon. When exactly had Kira planned to tell her she was leaving town for her next job? Megan wasn’t sure she could handle a long-distance relationship. Physical touch was so vital to her ability to communicate, to sensing and conveying emotion. And what if she’d moved her massage office into the hotel, only to find herself stuck in a building owned by a stranger who didn’t want her there?

So she’d move her office back, and she’d figure out how to have a long-distance relationship. She’d adapt. Unless Kira was counting on having a ready-made excuse for ending things once she lost interest—which she didn’t want to believe—they’d find a way to work it out. She just wished Kira had been the one to break this to her, not her dad.

“I don’t know if there’s going to be a next hotel, Dad.” Kira looked straight at Megan as she said it.

We’ll talk later,
Kira mouthed silently behind her father’s back.

Megan’s eyes blinked rapidly, erratically.

We’d better
, she mouthed back.

***

Kira straightened as her dad pivoted to face her. She could not believe he had opened his big mouth, presuming things he had no business presuming. Her employment choices were her own. If she didn’t want to continue jumping from one new project to the next, chasing the thrill he was addicted to—the excitement he got from starting over—that was her choice.