Chapter 22
Spencer
I t should be illegal to drive after an entire day getting spoiled rotten at a luxury spa.
Honestly, I shouldn’t get behind the wheel.
I’m so relaxed, I’m borderline high. I got massaged, had my face exfoliated with dead sea minerals, and even ate caviar for the first time— ahem, first and last time.
I don’t understand why a small tin of ocean-flavored popping boba balls is worth hundreds of dollars, but maybe I’m not fancy enough to appreciate the elegance.
But it’s not like I’m going to make a habit of this. I promised myself today was a one-and-done situation. This was a treat for Charlie which is why I made an exception, but I’m not going to take advantage of Nathan’s wallet ever again.
I’m waiting in the front lobby for Charlie and Claire.
It’s late and the spa is near closing. Everybody else collected their things and made their way to the parking lot.
They actually let Lennox leave in her robe, to her great delight.
I, however, am stuck waiting on the tweens who don’t want this day to end.
“Hold up!” I shout when they come barreling by the front desk, heading in the opposite direction of the exit. “Girls, I told you, it’s time to go.” I tap the outside of my wrist where a watch would go. “Claire, I told your grandma I’d have you home in…five minutes ago. Chop, chop.”
“Sorry, Ms. Spencer. It’s my fault,” Claire says.
Her thick, red hair is fastened behind her back in a long ponytail.
Her scant freckles are sparkling like stars in the night sky after the rainbow sherbert facial she opted for.
Charlie got the ice cream sundae facial, and for the past twenty minutes they’ve been loudly comparing notes as to which smelled better.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“I lost my locket. I took it off when we put our swimsuits on and I can’t find it anywhere. Charlie’s been helping me look.”
“It’s here!” A lady in a black blouse and black palazzo pants comes jogging down the hallway, the clickety-clack of her high heels echoing off the walls.
She holds out a long, gold chain with a thick, heart locket dangling like a pendulum.
“You left it in the locker, honey. We found it,” she says in breathless relief.
Claire hugs the lady, thanking her more times than I can count.
“Okay, Charlie,” I say, holding up my car keys, “take your bags and put them in the trunk. Get in, get buckled, and I will be out shortly. Okay?”
For once she doesn’t pry, too wrapped up in the company of her best friend. They go back to discussing the pros and cons of their facials. Come on, it’s a no-brainer. Sherbert over ice cream sundae, all day every day.
I watch Claire’s long ponytail sway behind her, once again having the strangest feeling of déjà vu, like I’ve met her before in a different life.
It happened the first time I met her after their first sleepover.
I was a little distracted by Spike, who was screaming like a piggie gladiator, hell-bent on vengeance when we separated him from Babe.
But still, I had the same feeling that I do now… I just still can’t quite place her.
“I’m Margaret, the spa director,” the woman says, outstretching her hand. “Did you and your party have a good time? Was everything up to your standards?”
“My standard for a pedicure is not getting stabbed with nippers or going home with foot fungus, so please believe me when I say today was one of the most memorable days of my life.”
She chuckles. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. I hate to be so candid, but do you have any idea if today was up to Mr. Hatcher’s standards? Our gratuity is based on your experience, so as long as it’s honest, your glowing report would be helpful.”
“Ah, I see. Um, yes, I will let Mr. Hatcher know it was fantastic. Better than superb. I will actually invent a new adjective to properly describe the utter euphoria that today was.”
She clasps her hands together and bows her head. “Thank you so much. There isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for the Hatchers.”
And their money , I add mentally. Nathan doesn’t act like an arrogant, rich elitist. It’s only through subtle tells that I really understand the magnitude of his wealth.
The watch he wears, how all his designer suits are perfectly tailored to his body, or the fact he has full-time employees whose job it is to just wait around on him all day.
“Um, is the register closed?” I point to the wall of skincare products, neatly displayed on the built-in shelves.
“What would you like?” Margaret asks with a wide smile.
“Something for my sister. Just a cleanser, a moisturizer, and maybe a toner or serum. Do you have anything without too many chemicals? Her skin is still so young.”
Margaret points to the other side of the wall, with rows of bamboo bottles and jars with dark blue writing.
“This is Azure, our cleanest line. Very safe for young skin. And it smells divine.” She grabs a test bottle and unscrews the lid before holding it to my nose.
The scent is light and refreshing, a blend of ocean sea salt, tangerine, and mint.
“Wow, that’s incredible. Okay.” I draw in a deep breath. “This is the part where you tell me these cost hundreds, right?”
“Don’t worry,” she says, waving me off. Stepping behind the register, she pulls out a large gift bag and begins to stuff every Azure product she can reach.
My stomach drops like an unhinged elevator.
Shit. She thinks because I’m friends with Nathan that I’m also rich.
This is going to be embarrassing, but I have to tell her I can’t afford all this.
“Margaret, I appreciate it, but I can probably only buy one or two?—”
“You’re Spencer, right?” she checks.
“Yes.”
She hands the bag over. “Two sets of the entire skincare line. Directions are on the boxes. Anytime you need a refill, or a service, stop by and give the front desk your name. It’s on the house.”
I try to hand the bag back. “I feel so bad. I wasn’t trying to get free stuff. There’s no way I can take all this from you.” I hold up the heavy bag, knowing this is probably over five hundred dollars of retail.
“It’s not free.” She winks. “Mr. Hatcher gave us very strict instructions to take good care of you. You and your sister are going to love these products, I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just let Mr. Hatcher know you had a nice time today. That’s all we ask.” I could continue to resist, but there’s not an ounce of hesitation in Margaret’s honey-smooth, calming voice.
“Thank you so much.”
I tuck the gift bag into my tote filled with a change of clothes, tennis shoes, and my wet swimsuit. I want to surprise Charlie later.
I can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face as I head to the Lincoln. The girls have the cabin interior lights on, and I already hear Tate McRae blasting through my speakers. I bop my head along, appreciating the sassy tunes of today’s new Britney Spears.
Pulling out my phone, I call Nathan but he doesn’t answer.
After two rings it goes straight to voicemail.
I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t called or texted to check in since this morning.
It’s probably best not to turn into a paranoid, stage-five clinger the very day after he slept over for the first time. I don’t want to scare him off.
I bet he’s in a meeting with his legal team as we speak, making plans to take down the corrupt plumbing company. In lieu of a voicemail, I pause outside my closed driver side door, letting the girls jam out for a little longer, and send him a text.
Me
Today was incredible. I don’t even know how to thank you. You are officially Charlie’s favorite person on the planet.
The read receipt goes from delivered to read immediately. His response bubble populates, then quickly disappears. His text follows shortly and I giggle at his contact name every time it pops up on my phone.
It’s Nate. I’m sorry
You’re welcome. It was my pleasure.
Me
Are you busy?
It’s Nate. I’m sorry
Somewhat.
Me
About that date… When do I get to see you again?
It’s Nate. I’m sorry
Spencer, today was a gift of friendship.
Me
Meaning?
It’s Nate. I’m sorry
Last night was crossing the line. Starting Monday, I’d like if we could go back to just being professional. I promise I will be a better boss moving forward though.
I stare at his words, trying to breathe through the unexpected sucker punch to the gut. What the hell? I know Nathan isn’t my boyfriend, but is he already breaking up with me?
Me
What happened? I’ll be home within an hour. Can we at least talk? I’m so confused.
It’s Nate. I’m sorry
I don’t have time tonight. Sorry.
Me
Please?
I feel weak for practically begging, but at least it’s honest.
Again, the read receipt is immediate. But this time Nathan doesn’t respond.
I bite on my tongue so hard it hurts. I don’t know why, I guess to subtly express the pain I’m feeling inside.
All the weight Dawn lifted earlier today with our heart-to-heart talk jumps right back into my body, like Flubber finding its rightful host again.
I force myself to slap on a smile. Opening the car door, I throw my tote into the front passenger seat, and join Charlie and Claire in belting out the chorus of Tate’s “run for the hills.”
I should’ve listened to the song lyrics more closely and took her advice.
In the case of Nathan Hatcher, I should’ve run for the hills the very first moment he first looked in my direction.