I nod and chug down the coffee as quickly as I can whi
le starting the water. Steam fills the bathroom. Placing the empty mug by the sink, I hop into the shower and wash efficiently. The moist heat helps loosen my muscles, and I feel much better.
By the time I’m out and finish applying some lotion to my skin, I hear dishware rattling around outside. Gotta admire Japanese efficiency.
“Food’s here,” Lucas announces from the living room.
I go out, tying the sash around my robe. “What did you get?”
“A couple of egg omelets and ham and sausage.”
“A man after my own heart. And croissants too?”
“Of course. And apricot jam.” He pulls out a chair for me.
Taking my seat, I give him a small smile. “How did you know?”
“When we were flying, you didn’t touch anything except the apricot jam with your bread and croissants.” He sits across from me and twists the jar open.
“I won’t have much time to linger over our meal.”
“If you’re calculating travel time, don’t. The spa’s inside the hotel.”
I give him a stern look. “Do you have any idea how much it costs to go to a hotel spa?”
“Do I look like the type to care?” His smile is completely unrepentant. “Now, say thank you and enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you. But you really didn’t have to.” I lower my eyelashes. “I could cancel it and spend the rest of the morning in bed with you…”
“Much as I appreciate the gesture, I’m not letting you cheap out on me.” He reaches over and takes my hand. “I want to spoil you, Ava. I haven’t been able to do anything for your birthday or holidays in the last two years. So let me.”
Gifts. Things. I can’t help but feel sort of blah about them. “Okay.”
I can sense him withdrawing at my rather tepid response. Oh come on. He’s trying. And isn’t this what you wanted? Give him a chance. He isn’t like your father.
I muster a high-wattage smile. “A spa does sound like fun.” I take a bite of the egg omelet, which is excellent—fluffy and light, almost like a soufflé. “But now I have to think about what I’m going to get you.”
Relaxing a bit, he says, “You don’t have to give me anything.”
“But I haven’t gotten you anything for your birthday for two years either.”
He gives me an odd look. “It’s enough that you’re with me.”
Surprised, I study him. It’s obvious he means what he said. It’s sweet, but it won’t be enough for me personally. If we apply this logic, then being together should be enough for both of us. I’m not sure why I’m so reluctant to just accept all his extravagant gifts, but somehow I am.
“Be gracious and say thank you, Ava,” he says with mock sternness.
“Fine. Thank you,” I say as ungraciously as possible, which elicits a laugh.
I manage a smile. But I can’t shake off the unease.
* * *
Ava
Despite my worries, I end up with an extra five minutes before the appointment. Lucas has thought of everything. He had the concierge bring up my favorite face lotions and took my wrinkled dress and hung it in the bathroom while he showered so it was presentable again. That was considerate, since I don’t have anything else to wear, and I didn’t think beyond being with him last night.
The spa reception area isn’t huge, but it’s airy with bright cream colors, soft leather couches and oval glass-top tables. High-quality herbs and spices scent the air, and numerous vases with fresh roses and lilies occupy various nooks and crannies. A young, slim receptionist in a dark blue and cream dress informs me in excellent English to wait a bit and serves me my drink of choice—hot lemon tea with milk—in an elegant bone china cup with a saucer.