Chapter 28
Ava
As I step out of the shower, the bell to our suite sounds throughout our room. It’s so much like an apartment that they’ve decided to include a doorbell. The thought makes me shake my head as I hurry to answer.
“Good morning, Ava,” Joey, our concierge, greets me correctly this time. As much as I enjoyed being referred to as Logan’s wife, I prefer my first name.
“Good morning,” I smile, stepping aside to welcome Joey and the young bellboy behind him into the suite.
The younger man rolls a small table covered with a white tablecloth, topped with a covered dish that is sure to be my breakfast.
“I’ve set appointments for everything you requested,” Joey says as he grips his notebook tightly, excited to share his plans.
After Logan left, I called back to include shopping for a dress to my itinerary, and Joey recommended a full-on make-over. Never shying away from a day of pampering, I agreed.
“After breakfast, you’ll head to your spa and beauty treatment. From there, you’ll be transported to the Intersection at Paddington, which is one of the best shopping districts in the city.” He is reading from his list as I pour maple syrup over my French toast, nodding along.
“Your personal shopper will have everything lined up so you don’t have to spend time hopping from store to store, but upon Mr. Draper’s request, I’ve given her an unlimited budget,” he nervously glances up at me as I freeze with the fork full of sugary goodness on the way to my mouth.
“Joey! I told you this was a secret!”
“No, no, Ava. Mr. Draper told me this before you even arrived – no expense is to be spared for you. I think he knew you’d be into some good trouble like this,” he says.
Logan told me the Four Seasons is known for their high-end restaurants, but I really wasn’t expecting everything to be so delicious. Between dinner last night and this thick French toast, which Joey was sure to inform me was made from freshly baked bread, I could live here forever just for the food.
“It won’t be a lot of moving around, as you requested, but the first half of your beauty portion will take up the bulk of the day,” he says.
“What’d you tell Rodrick?” I ask, after using him as a cover to ditch my tail for the day.
“I’ve told him about your plans for the most part, but I don’t think it made much sense to him. In his book, you’re taking a girl day. So, he’ll always know where you are, but I’ve made it so he has no idea any of it is specifically for tonight,” Joey beams. I can tell he loves what he does, and I honestly can’t blame him – planning for the rich and famous must be a fun job.
My spa day begins with an hour-long massage, as I groan and stretch out all the kinks from Logan bending and twisting me all morning.
I can sense the confusion on my young massage therapist’s face when she registers the bright pink mark on my ass, but thankfully she doesn’t mention it.
Afterwards, another woman walks in, applying a thick paste-like substance to my face, which smells of peppermint. With her hand extended, she offers to help me off the bed, but I’m full naked, under my towel, so I freeze with insecurity.
“We’ll just go into your exfoliation. You can bring your towel,” she smiles kindly, probably having to deal with people’s apprehensions daily.
Carefully wrapping myself in the thick brown towel, I follow her to the next room, which includes a large white tub that appears to float above a bed of rocks. It’s so beautiful that I pause as the woman readies all her accessories on a side table.
“You’ll just need to step into the tub,” she says with a smile.
I smile at her professionalism while giving such basic instructions. I’m quite confident she scrubs every cell of dead flesh from my body, and it feels incredible to be pampered. The spa is completely top of the line, fancier than anywhere I’ve ever been for sure. Once I’m finished, she takes me to a salon area, where a bubbling blonde greets me at the door.
“You must be Ava, I’m Sherry, it’s so nice to meet you.” She grins so wide it almost makes me uncomfortable.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I extend my hand, but she wraps me in a bear hug instead.
“Your hair is gorgeous, but I think we should add some highlights to give it a bit of volume,” she talks more to my hair than me as her hands ruffle through my waves.
“Whatever you think is best,” I shrug, never one to care too much about my hair.
“Okay, so we’ll do some layers, and undertones, you’ll love it!” She smiles and I nod, giving her free rein on the decisions.
“Should I just take a seat?” I look to the salon behind her as she continues to study my hair. There are three other women having their hair dyed or blow dried, so I figure that’s where I’ll be heading. Sherry looks behind her before returning to me with an odd look.
She leans in and says quietly, “Oh no, they’re just typical clients. You’re in the VIP room, just pick your polish, and let me know when you’re ready,” she says, gesturing to a wall of colors.
There are so many options, it’s difficult to choose, but I decide on a pale pink before returning to Sherry, who then walks me to a small room in the back of the salon.
Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, the salon chair sits on a circular-shaped pedestal that appears to move as one unit, with a foot spa attached, as well as small vibrating bowls of warm water at the end of the armrests.
Two other women quickly join the room, one kneeling to give me a pedicure, while the other tends to my nails as Sherry runs her fingers through my hair.
Sherry begins by applying a strong-smelling dye to sections of my hair as she rambles on about Sydney between her questions regarding my stay.
“So, you’ve never been here before?” she asks.
“No, it’s a first for me,” I reveal as she tugs on a piece of my hair before coating it in the concoction and wrapping it in aluminum foil.
“One day I have to come and visit Los Angeles. It’s the city of angels!”
“Oh, you have to. I’ll happily show you around,” I boast as if I know more about the city than I do.
It makes me think of Petra, my tour guide and confidant throughout my years in the city people dream about visiting just as I had as a child. Although I’ve checked my email daily, I haven’t heard a peep from her, and I’ve stayed mum on my side as well. There’s so much to be said, but each time I attempt to write her a message, I get lost and find myself speechless. Perhaps it’s just something that must be discussed in person, and so I decide to put it off until I get home.
Spinning the chair around, Sherry lowers the backrest until my head relaxes on the dip of a porcelain sink, warm water washing over my hair as she massages my scalp while the other women continue to work.
Throughout blow drying and styling, we continue to discuss parts of our lives while comparing travel stories about the common places we’ve visited.
My nails and feet dry well before Sherry finally spins me to see what she calls her masterpiece, and my mouth drops as I see the new me.
My hair is soft and fluffy, falling in beautiful layers like never before. I feel like a supermodel, so intrigued that I stand from my seat for a better look before turning to thank Sherry.
“It’s beautiful!” I compliment her and she blushes a bit before introducing the last of my beauty assistants for the day.
Alicia is here to do my make-up, and she looks a bit disappointed when I tell her I’m going for the no make-up look. Most likely, she was hoping for full-on glam for a movie premiere or something, but nevertheless, she does an amazing job hiding my flaws while adding a bit of highlight and a small pop of color at the edges of my eyelids.
Walking out to the waiting Bentley, I feel like a million bucks, and from my reflection, I’d have to say I look the part as well.
Arriving at the shopping center, I’m revitalized as I meet with Trish, a trendy girl who looks fresh out of college, fully engulfed in a life of fashion.
“Joey said you had curves, but you’re tiny.” She shakes her head before walking back to the rack of clothes standing behind her. Looking upon my figure, I try to decide which argument I agree with more.
“I have some looks that are going to work perfectly for you,” she returns, pinching at my waist as I stand as still as a tree watching her in awe. Moving between the clothes, plucking hangers off the rack and throwing them over her shoulder, she whirls around me like a tornado, selecting options.
“Let’s go for the first look,” she grabs my wrist, leading me to a dressing room with a draped curtain, before hanging three items on a wooden post. “Put those on and come out,” she says before pulling the curtain closed behind her.
Running my fingers across the fabrics, I see that the first piece of is a white lace bodysuit, intended to go underneath the red dress that also hangs from the wooden post.
After trying it on, I see her vision. The lace barely shows beneath the dip in the dress, but it’s incredibly sexy in its peek-a-boo nature.
A metallic Chanel wristlet is the other item hanging and I wrap it around my wrist, stepping back to see my reflection in the full-length mirror when the curtain flies open.
With roaming eyes, Trish looks me up and down before mumbling something about shades and pulling the curtain closed just after hanging a few more items.
From one outfit to the next, I try on so many clothes I eventually stop Trish, glancing at my phone to see it’s almost time to meet Logan at the suite.
Finally, she dresses me in a fitted black dress that hugs my body perfectly. My cleavage looks so tempting that I raise my own brows in appreciation while admiring my reflection.
My legs look endless, thanks to the open-toe sandals she’s selected to display my fresh pedicure. A clutch purse and stud earrings complete my look, as I thank Trish for all her help before making my way back to the Four Seasons to meet Logan.