Serenity (Inevitable Book 5)

by Janet Nissenson

  Sasha’s green-gold eyes twinkled. “Chad and Julio are certainly devoted to each other, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t had their fair share of knock-down, dragged-out fights. Unlike my parents, however, one of them doesn’t storm out of the house and catch the first flight out of the country after an argument.”

  “How are Katya and Enzo, by the way? I haven’t spoken to either of them in months.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes. “Mama is a bigger drama queen than ever, but what else is new. Though with the new season of the show in full swing, she’s too busy to call very often. Dad’s on another tour, this time in eastern Europe. Both of them are threatening to visit me around Christmas, unless I can think of a reason to keep them away. I’d like to have a peaceful holiday for once in my life.”

  “That may not be possible, niná, given that you’ve got two hotheads for parents. But they do love you very much, you know that, hmm? They may have odd ways of showing it, but I happen to know that you’re the single most important thing to your mother and father.”

  “I know,” sighed Sasha. “And even though they drive me crazy at times, I love them, too. I’m just not sure I’m emotionally up for dealing with both of them at the same time, and especially at Christmas. I’ve spent too many years of my life playing peacemaker between those two.”

  Linda gave her niece a sympathetic look. “I know, niná. You had to grow up far too quickly with those parents of yours, particularly when they acted like children so often. But you’ve made a good life for yourself, Sasha, despite spending your first fifteen years living like a gypsy.”

  Sasha nodded. “I love my life,” she agreed. “And if it hadn’t been for you, Tia, I might never have had the chance to live a normal life.”

  She had come to stay with her aunt Linda, the divorced wife of her uncle Joaquim - Enzo’s older brother - for what was supposed to have been just a few weeks one summer. Sasha had been weary of following one or the other of her parents on whatever tour they’d been on, and when the offer had come from Linda to stay with her for a time she’d eagerly accepted.

  Sasha had been entranced with both Linda’s brightly painted cottage, and the coastal community of Stinson Beach where her aunt had taken up residence after the tempestuous divorce from Joaquim. It was peaceful there, despite the influx of weekend visitors to the beach, and Sasha knew within days of her arrival that she didn’t want to leave anytime soon. Linda had filled the whimsically decorated cottage with the various forms of art she produced for a living - paintings, sculptures, pottery - as well as a veritable menagerie of animals, most of them rescues. Dogs and cats cohabited with birds and fish, and outside in the little garden was a small chicken coop and a rabbit hutch. Linda also grew vegetables and herbs, and canned her own fruit. She lived a simple, peaceful existence, far removed from the hectic, unceasing weeks Sasha spent traveling around the globe. Linda’s cottage had felt like home the first time Sasha had stepped through the doorway, and when the invitation had come to remain there after her visit was supposed to be over, she had jumped at the chance.

  Enzo hadn’t put up much of a fight when Sasha had broached the subject of living permanently with Linda, but then again he had always been something of a pushover when it came to his daughter. Katya, however, had been quite another matter, and she’d screamed and cursed and threatened when Sasha had quietly insisted on staying put. In the end, it had been Enzo who’d convinced his fiery sometime-lover to acquiesce to their daughter’s wishes, but Katya had been so hurt and angry that she had refused to speak to Sasha for almost three full months. And it hadn’t simply been Sasha’s desire to stay put and live in one place for a few years that had created such a rift between her and Katya. Rather, it had been Sasha’s decision to quit dance that had really sent her mother over the edge.

  But they had eventually made up, even if Katya had never really forgiven her daughter for abandoning the career as a ballroom dancer that she’d always envisioned for Sasha. And when Sasha had decided to become a yoga teacher, and then a masseuse as well, Katya’s ire had been stoked anew. Katya strongly believed that Sasha was wasting her time and God given talents on something as frivolous as yoga, and that she could have had a very successful career as one of the professional dancers on Beyond Ballroom. The fact that Sasha had grown to hate all of the pageantry, costumes, and cattiness involved in competing and performing hadn’t seemed to matter to Katya. All she saw was a wasted opportunity, and that her only child had elected to live like a hippie instead of a celebrity.

  Sasha idly stroked the fur of one of Linda’s cats - a fat orange marmalade named OJ. “I should be heading back soon,” she told her aunt regretfully. “Even though it’s in the opposite commute direction, there’s always plenty of traffic heading into the city.”

  Sasha didn’t own a car, but Chad or Julio were always happy to loan her one of their vehicles when she needed to go somewhere. She didn’t particularly like to drive, but always made it a point to visit her aunt at least once or twice a month. Linda was the only family she had in northern California, and frankly the only family member she could turn to when she needed advice.

  “It was good to see you as always, niná,” replied Linda. “And I appreciate your driving all the way out here on your day off.”

  Friday was the one day of the week when Sasha didn’t teach a yoga class or schedule any massage appointments. Instead, she spent the day sleeping in a bit, going for long walks, running errands, and seeing Linda, either here in Stinson Beach or in San Francisco for brunch or dinner.

  Sasha reached over to give her aunt a hug. “You know I always love coming out here. And that I still consider this place home, even though I moved out a long time ago.”

  “It will always be your home, Sasha,” assured Linda. “But before you go, tell me. What are you planning to do about this new man in your life, hmm?”

  Sasha sighed. “I wish I knew. Like I told you, I’m not even sure he’s interested in me. We’re nothing alike, live in two totally different worlds. I don’t know anything about fashion or designer clothes, but even I can tell that his suits and shoes must be horrendously expensive. And when I mentioned where Matthew lives to Chad, he told me all of those condos cost big bucks, like five million dollars for the smallest ones.”

  Linda regarded her niece curiously. “And how do you know where he lives?”

  Sasha bit her bottom lip uncertainly. “He, ah, might have arranged for me to do an in-home massage on Monday. He’s a very busy man, you see, and has to travel a lot on business. So he asked if I could possibly work around his schedule every so often.”

  Linda grinned. “And you still think he’s not interested in you that way, niná?”

  Sasha gave her aunt a mock glare. “You know very well that I have several clients that I see at their homes. Tessa and Ian are two that come to mind, and I have a few others as well.”

  “Ah, but are those clients as stimulated as your Matthew gets during a massage? And do any of them tip you more than a hundred dollars each time?” asked Linda pointedly. “He might be as busy as he says, but I guarantee you that he’s got other motives behind asking you to do an in-home appointment. I have a feeling that come Monday you’re going to discover that your Matthew is very, very interested in you, Sasha. And not just as his massage therapist.”

  “Lindsey, for what is probably the fiftieth time, no. I am not interested in seeing a marriage counselor with you. In order for counseling sessions to do any good, both parties in the marriage have to actually want for things to improve. And even though you insist that’s what you want, I’m having a real tough time believing that. Why? Maybe because despite all your claims that you love me and want me back, I happen to know you’re still intent on sleeping your way through all seven Bay Area counties before the year is up. And stop trying to deny it, Linz. I can give you names, dates, times, and hotel room numbers, and probably what color shoes you were wearing each time. Yes, my P.I. is very, v
ery thorough. The best in the business from what I’m told.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still having me followed around like that,” hissed Lindsey. “Especially since you’re the one who moved out on me. What do you care what I do any longer, so long as the kids aren’t involved?”

  “I don’t give a damn who you fuck,” he replied calmly. “But I do care about those divorce papers, the ones you keep refusing to sign. So, yes, I am still having you followed, Linz, in case I have to resort to using that information one of these days to force your hand.”

  She gasped. “You wouldn’t dare, you bastard! You wouldn’t dare make that information public, or risk letting the kids find out. What sort of man are you, Matt?”

  “The sort who wants this marriage over with once and for all,” he retorted. “And you’re right - I don’t want the kids to know that their mother is a whore. But if you keep up this bullshit about not signing the papers, things might have to get ugly. And if a judge learned about all of your little flings, it’s pretty much a given that I’d get full custody of Hayley and Casey, too. So you should give your lawyer a call, Linz, and tell her you’re finally ready to end this thing.”

  “Screw you!” she spat out. “You don’t have the guts to use that information against me, wouldn’t risk hurting the kids that way. And even a man as nerdy and sexless as you wouldn’t want the word to get out that his wife had to find satisfaction somewhere else. Maybe if you’d been a better lover I wouldn’t have had to scratch my itch with other men. And I’m not signing those goddamned papers. Not now and not ever!”

  She disconnected the call abruptly, leaving Matthew to glare darkly at the phone in his hand. He was sorely tempted to fling the device clear across the room and watch it shatter into a hundred pieces.

  Instead, he set the phone down on his desk, closed his eyes, and began to take deep, calming breaths - just the way Sasha had been teaching him. It was only one of the ways she was helping him to combat his sky high stress levels.

  Quickly realizing that a scant hour was nowhere near enough time for his massage sessions with her, Matthew had bumped them up to ninety minutes. Sasha would spend a brief part of each session teaching him breathing and meditation techniques, and had encouraged him to take a few minutes out of each day to practice them.

  She’d seemed inordinately pleased when he had told her that after their very first appointment he had gone out and bought all of the supplements and vitamins she had suggested, and even more so when he’d acknowledged that they already seemed to be having results. He was sleeping better at night, had more energy during the day, and more endurance during the workouts he was able to squeeze in. But when he had begun to ask her for advice on changes he should consider making to his diet, Sasha had hesitated.

  “I don’t want to sound like some sort of dictator, Matthew,” she’d told him. “I’m the first to admit that I keep to a very rigid diet – no meat, chicken, or fish, very little dairy, lots of organic fruits and vegetables, and practically no processed foods. And I rarely drink any alcohol. I realize that it’s unrealistic to expect most people to adhere to that sort of diet, so I generally don’t try and impose my standards on others.”

  “But you’re not dictating to me,” he’d pointed out. “I’m the one asking you for advice, and I think I know you well enough by now to realize that you’d never try to impose your will on someone else. And while I may not be ready to go to the same extremes you’ve done, I know that I need to make some changes to what I’m currently doing. I don’t feel healthy right now, so give me a few ideas to help me start changing that.”

  And thus, little by little, he’d begun to make those subtle changes to his diet and lifestyle over the past few weeks. Ian had nodded his approval at lunch last week when Matthew had ordered grilled salmon instead of his usual cheeseburger. Though Elena had stared at him in disbelief when he’d asked her to get him some herbal tea instead of coffee.

  “You sick or something, boss?” she’d queried sarcastically. “Because I can’t think of any other reason why you’d drink chamomile tea instead of your usual triple espresso.”

  Matthew had grinned. “Maybe I finally figured out all that caffeine is bad for my stress level. By the way, hold all my calls for the next fifteen minutes, would you? It’s time for my morning meditation.”

  Elena had felt his forehead then, convinced he was burning up with fever. But when his skin had been cool to the touch, she’d merely shaken her head and walked away, muttering something under her breath in rapid fire Spanish. All he had been able to decipher had been “ese hombre está loco”, which he figured meant something like “that guy is crazy”.

  But cutting back on his caffeine intake, eating less red meat and fried foods, and limiting himself to one beer or glass of whiskey a day had already begun to have positive effects. He’d lost a few pounds, especially around his mid-section, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded. He was overall in a better, happier, and calmer mood, and had more patience when confronted with problems at the office.

  Dealing with his hopefully soon to be ex-wife, however, was still every bit as vexing as always. And, unfortunately, getting Lindsey to agree to the divorce was not going to be nearly as easy as cutting back on caffeine or alcohol or giving up triple bacon cheeseburgers. Feeling his fists begin to clench tightly in irritation, Matthew took another of those deep, soothing breaths, holding it in at the top for several seconds, and then expelled it slowly. He repeated this action several more times before he felt a sense of calm begin to wash through his senses.

  ‘Forget about Lindsey for now,’ he told himself. ‘You’ve got more important things to deal with today. Not to mention something to look forward to this evening.’

  He was booked for a ninety minute massage with Sasha, and while he always anticipated those appointments with an inexplicable sense of excitement, he was looking forward to tonight’s more than usual - most likely because the appointment would be taking place at his condo for the first time.

  After he’d discovered that Sasha always administered Ian and Tessa’s massages at their home, he had asked her if she might also be able to offer the same sort of service to him. She had hesitated briefly before informing him that yes, she did do in-home massage for a few of her clients, but only those who could provide a massage table and the other equipment she’d need.

  “I don’t own a car, you see,” she’d explained, “and it isn’t always possible for me to borrow one to get to appointments. And since it would be a little tricky to cart a table and my other equipment on the bus, the only way I can offer in-home services is if the client has all of that available.”

  He’d instantly asked her for a list of what she would need, and then hadn’t wasted any time in ordering a top of the line table, sheets, heating pad, plus the various oils and creams she used. He had set everything up in the room he utilized as his home office, including a portable sound system, and had even downloaded a relaxation playlist to the iPod. Shy of painting the walls a more relaxing color, Matthew was pretty sure he had done all he could to replicate the room at the studio where he normally received his massages, and hoped that Sasha would approve.

  It had become important to him over these past few weeks to gain her approval, and even more so to please her. The desire to make her happy had been the main reason why he’d been so quick to comply with all of her suggestions about his diet and health, and each time she had smiled approvingly at him Matthew had felt as though he was on top of the world. And he had been so grateful for all of her advice, for her kindness, and nurturing, that he had shown his appreciation in the only way he knew how - with money.

  He had always been a generous tipper, even in the days when he’d had precious little money of his own. And since his fortunes had multiplied so significantly over this past decade, he hadn’t hesitated to share his wealth with those less fortunate. Lindsey had always chided him about how much he would tip a waiter or a be
llhop, or complain about the amount of money he insisted on donating to various charities. But he’d ignored her, going so far at times to remind her that it was his money after all, and he certainly gave her plenty of it to lavish on herself. Giving a hard working, low paid waitress a hefty tip would hardly make a dent in their finances.

  Sasha had told him very little about herself, and then only because he’d asked her some very specific questions. He knew that she didn’t own a car or a computer - the latter fact in particular having appalled him. She rented a single room in an old Victorian house in the city’s Mission district, and seemed perfectly content with the simple lifestyle she’d adopted. She didn’t wear any jewelry or makeup, left her nails unpolished, and dressed in either yoga apparel or on occasion a long, floaty skirt and cotton tank top. It was fairly obvious to Matthew that she didn’t have a lot of money, and his natural reaction had been to rather extravagantly over-tip her each time he’d had a massage. Since he left the money for her in an envelope with the front desk clerk after paying for the massage, he had never presented her with the tip personally. He suspected that if he had done so, however, that she would find some way of gently refusing it.

  He wasn’t sure why he was quite this anxious about her being at his condo this evening, but it had been practically all he’d been able to think about all day. After all, he scolded himself, it wasn’t like a date or anything. Sasha was simply his masseuse, and to some extent his friend. At least, it pleased him to think of her that way, and hoped that she considered him as more than just a client.

  And, if he was being completely honest with himself, he would have to admit that lately he was thinking about Sasha more and more, and in ways that had nothing to do with her being either his masseuse or his friend. He was attracted to her, very much so, both physically and emotionally. Each time she touched him, even when it was to work out a particularly nasty knot in his neck or upper back, he had to fight back the growing arousal he experienced in her presence. And it was downright impossible to suppress the erections that occurred almost automatically during the massage sessions. Sasha was still tactful enough not to mention his physical reactions, but Matthew knew damned well that she had noticed them each and every time. And later that day, in the privacy of his walk-in shower, he’d found himself jerking off each and every time, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he imagined it was Sasha’s smooth, soft hand stroking his cock instead of his own.