"Excuse me, sir..."
The waitress barely got the words out before a chilly stare silenced her.
Whatever she intended to say vanished instantly.
"Ms. Sophie, Ms. Elodie, right this way, please."
The manager ushered Sophie and Elodie further inside.
The upper floor boasted a lavish presidential suite, complete with a spa and a private cinema, all designed to top-notch standards.
Elodie, here for a thorough inspection, glanced around and mused, "This decor must've cost a fortune. They definitely brought in top designers. Mr. Odie really goes all out, doesn’t he?"
"It sure is something," Sophie agreed.
Just then, the manager grinned and informed them, "The massage therapists will be right with you. Please, make yourselves comfortable."
With that, he slipped out of the room.
Sophie and Elodie settled into the cinema-style massage chairs. It wasn't long before a knock echoed.
"Come in," Elodie called.
The door swung open to reveal six young, strikingly handsome men.
Sophie's smile faltered.
"Hello, ladies, we're here to provide your massage services today."
These young guys, probably fresh out of their teens, approached in crisp white shirts. Elodie leaned closer to Sophie, whispering, "Is this that 'special service' Mr. Odie mentioned?"
"..."
Sophie, not a regular at beauty spas, was taken aback by the inclusion of massages. This was unexpected...
She left the thought unfinished, watching as two of the guys knelt to help with their shoes. Elodie suddenly felt reluctant to decline.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Revenge is best served cold