Fresh Disasters (Stone Barrington 13) - Page 25

od,” he said.

“I’m going to go over your back and shoulders lightly, and I want you to tell me if what I do makes you hurt in any particular place.” She did so. “How was that?” she asked.

“Wonderful.”

“May I go deeper, do you think?”

“Yes, please.”

She went deeper and covered everything from his neck to his heels. “Okay,” she said, holding up a sheet, “you can turn over on your back now. Do you need any help?”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, turning over.

She began massaging an arm. “Who was the masseuse who stood you up?” she asked.

Stone nodded at the bedside table. “Her card is over there,” he said. “Her phone number didn’t work.”

Celia went and got the card. “I know her,” she said. “Her name is Marilyn Martin; we both used to work at the same day spa.” She began working on his arm again. “Last I heard, she wasn’t working anymore, she’d moved into an apartment that some lawyer is paying for, guy with a funny name.”

“Wouldn’t be Bernard Finger, would it?”

“That’s it! Do you know him?”

“Only slightly. He’s the opposition in a personal-injury suit I’m working on.”

“Flashy kind of guy. I saw them in a restaurant once; she was wearing a lot of jewelry. So was he, come to think of it.” She began working on his other arm. “I think he’s married.”

“That’s kind of sore,” Stone said. “I must have fallen more on that side.”

“I’ll spend a little extra time on it. Are you in a rush?”

“God, no. You can take all afternoon, if you want to.”

She laughed. “I don’t have that much time, I’m afraid; I was able to come to you only because one of my regular clients was ill.”

“Can we set up a regular time?” he asked.

“My schedule is full, but I could call you when I have a cancellation.”

“Yes, please.”

She worked silently on the arm and shoulder, then she moved to the top of the table and began massaging his neck, then his face and scalp. She finished slowly. “There,” she said. “Is that better?”

“Oh, yes,” Stone sighed. “I could go to sleep.”

“That’s a good idea,” she said, “but lie on your back, with a pillow under your knees.”

Stone sat up. “I have an electric bed that can elevate my knees,” he said.

“Good idea.” She took his hand, led him to the bed and tucked him in.

“Celia,” he said, then he hesitated.

“Yes, I would,” she said.

“Would what?”

“Would like to have dinner with you sometime.”

Tags: Stuart Woods Stone Barrington Mystery
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