I sat down on the edge of the massage table, exhaling hard. My hands shook slightly as I reached for my cigarettes. The lighter clicked, the flame caught, and I drew in a long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs before blowing it out.
The ceiling above me blurred through the haze. Maybe I should've used more oil…? No. Shit, no. I need something stronger for her. Stronger than that. But what?
I tapped ash onto the floor, dragged again, and leaned back. The room smelled of perfume and oil, sweat and smoke. My head spun with it.
Two minutes later, I heard footsteps again. Sharp, quick, echoing down the hall. High-heels. Lighter than Anotov's, faster.
I cocked an eyebrow, took another drag, and sure enough, the door burst open.
Susan stormed in, all fire and energy, but her voice was nothing like before. Not the cold receptionist bark I'd gotten earlier. Now she was practically glowing.
