Learning to Soar Read Free Page A

before taking a swig of her drink.
    “Um, that would be my massage therapist, Chloe, not my shrink,” Monica mumbled.
    Chloe sputtered. Her mouthful of wine spewed from her lips in a fine spray. “Your masseuse suggested him?”
    “Yes, Chloe, my masseuse referred him,” retorted Monica. “Donna said Damien was terrific, and you know he made a world of difference to me. Besides, masseuses are professionals too, you know. Don’t be such a snob, for Pete’s sake.” She knocked on the door four times.
    The door opened just a crack. Chloe couldn’t see inside from where she was standing, but it was clear from Monica’s face that she saw someone or something she liked. The door parted just enough to admit her before closing firmly.
    Chloe found herself abandoned by her best friend in a club full of sex-crazed exhibitionists.
    Great
    She glanced longingly at the fire escape door at the end of the hall. The red ‘Exit’ light gleamed. I could just go , she thought. I could walk out of here and call a cab on my cell phone. It would set off the alarm and the police would come, but whatever. Somebody needs to throw some cold water on those people out there anyway.
    She sipped her wine thoughtfully. Monica’d be totally pissed off, but she deserves it after dragging me to this crazy place. And she was totally deceptive about the therapist referral. Massage therapist, my ass. Chloe narrowed her eyes and glared at the door.
    Chloe recognised Monica’s throaty laughter from behind the door, then her deep purr of delight. Oh, lovely, I can wait out here next to the fire escape door while Monica and this Damien guy get it on. Oh, sorry, excuse me. While they fuck.
    She took another gulp of her drink and scowled. She heard a low male voice rumbling incoherently, then heard a gasp of pain—or pleasure?—from Monica.
    That’s it. I’m out of here.
    Chloe downed the rest of her Chardonnay in three deep swallows and placed the empty glass and used cocktail napkin on the floor outside Damien’s office door . Yes, I’m a litterbug, she thought rebelliously, but at least I’m not some kind of tramp. Besides, I don’t think it could possibly get any trashier around here. She squared her shoulders, tugged down her miniskirt until it was as long as it was possibly going to get, and took one furious step towards the noisy dance floor.
    The office door flew open and Monica emerged, giggling like a little girl. She fingered a sparkling crystal necklace that she hadn’t been wearing when she had entered the office. “Look, Chloe, Damien gave me a thank-you present for bringing you here! Isn’t that nice?” Chloe caught a glimpse of a deep red oriental carpet and muted gold walls in the office before she focused her eyebeams of fury on Monica.
    “So glad you got a reward for tricking me into coming here,” she steamed, “but I’m sorry to say that I’m leaving. I hope you don’t have to return it since you worked so hard to earn it.”
    Monica rolled her eyes. “Lighten up, Chloe,” she said, “and trust me. You’ll like what Damien can do for you.”
    Before Chloe could protest further, Monica shoved her into the office and slammed the door shut.

Chapter Three
     
     
     
    “Aaaarghh!” Chloe shouted with her eyes squeezed shut. “Damn it, Monica!” She turned and slapped her hands on the closed door in desperation.
    A calm male voice spoke up behind her. “You’re not locked in, you know. You can go. I’d never dream of forcing anyone to meet with me.”
    Chloe turned and saw an entirely normal-looking man rise from an armchair and approach her. I don’t know what I was expecting, she thought, but it sure wasn’t this .
    Damien appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had wavy, brown hair with a few flecks of grey, and wide, solid shoulders. As he walked to Chloe she noted that she was a little taller than he in her stiletto boots, which probably put him at about five-foot-ten. He wore a collared, light-blue