Sublime Spa Cambridge Novels & Stories

"Book the penthouse suite at The Velvet Spa. Full treatment—massage, facial, the works. And send my favorite boy toy. I think his name is Luke." A pause. "Luke? The…" "Yes, Luke," I snapped. "The one with the hands. Unless you’ve been hiring new boys without telling me." "N-no, of course not. I’ll arrange it immediately. Should I…" "Don't do anything else, Emma. Get it done now." I hung up. “You…” I turned to my driver, “take me to the spa.” He nodded and did as I asked, no questions asked—as it should be. The spa was all white marble and silent, it was the kind of place where rich women came to forget their husbands’ affairs. I didn’t wait for the receptionist’s greeting, just strode past h

He smiled and nodded in response to us, then shut the door and told us he’d find a spot to park in, then asked that we call him to let him know when we were done so he’d come up to the entrance to pick us up. We told him okay, then Sammy grabbed my hand and led me into the spa. The place was beautiful. Stunning. The aesthetics, the ambiance, the smell, everything was amazing. “This place is amazing,” I said to her. “I know, right?” she smiled. “Come on, let’s get on with it,” she said as we walked up to the front desk. “Hello and welcome. My name is Camila. How may I be of assistance to you today,” the lady at the front desk asked with a warm smile on her face.

Claire added. --- An hour later, I stood at the entrance of Spa de Lumière, a luxurious golden-glass building with white marble interiors and a scent that smelled like soft roses and expensive moisturizer. Claire was already waiting on FaceTime as I walked in. “Vanessa, this place looks like heaven. I hate you.” Claire’s voice filled my ears as I was guided to the lounge. I smiled. “Don’t hate me yet. I haven’t even picked a treatment.” “You’re getting everything. Body massage, facial, mani-pedi. Ooooh, let’s fix those nails of yours. Are they still chipped?”

She was going to be her maid of honor. The Peninsula spa gave an intimate vibe in a space that was gracious, discreet and luxurious. The walls were dark lacquered wood walls and it had English chandeliers and Carrara marble counter tops. It was so quiet and serene that Holly and Charlie found it hard to believe that they were still in New York. They couldn't even hear the sound of traffic! The spa offered everything from a regular sauna treatment to a cryo facial to rejuvenate and repair the skin. But Holly and Charlie were only getting their facials done with a massage treatment.

Clad in regal blue and silver, he mingled with heirs and barons in the luxurious Roseglow Conservatory, where Aeternum’s elite often lounged between meetings, sipping spell-chilled wine and discussing market shares like nobles once discussed wars. “I’ve heard,” Thelric began with a sly smile, “that Lady Ysmene’s cliffside resort in South Aeternum recently overtook Lord Verren’s lakeside spa in quarterly bookings.” Lady Ysmene, a refined woman in her mid-thirties with platinum blonde hair and the casual confidence of a lioness, arched an eyebrow. “Quite accurate. And no coincidence. Location, amenities, and exclusivity.” “Then might I tempt you,” Thelric said, spreading out a hand-drawn map,

He walked over to the camera and there it was. “Today, our sub will do an unlimited squirting.”

“Hey there. I’m glad to see you.” She gives me a genuine smile, and I smile back. “How are you enjoying the wedding?” “It’s um, lovely. I’ve been enjoying the property. I want to get out and take some photos tomorrow morning.” “Of the ocean? It’s magical here.” “I love how dramatic it is. I’ll take crashing waves over turquoise waters any day.” We both turn as Amora summons us, and the whispering group heads into the bowels of the spa. It looks like something from a movie. There are dim lights, crystals, and cavernous baths of different temperatures. Holy shit.

Amanda said so immediately and meant it as a compliment. Three rooms off a shared terrace that looked over the water. White walls. Blue tiles. The kind of place that understood light and used it well. There were already flowers on every surface and a spa schedule printed on heavy paper propped on each bed. Stefan deposited all three bags with the efficiency of someone used to moving gear in difficult conditions and then appeared in the doorway of the terrace. “Spa first,” he said. “Both of you. I will handle the rest.” “The rest being what,” I said.

The beautiful light inside the ultra-exclusive private spa was perfectly dim, filled with the soothing scent of eucalyptus and lavender as Isabella and her lifelong friend, Susan, relaxed on parallel velvet massage tables. The two women, both elegantly in their late fifties, were giggling and laughing like schoolgirls as the professional masseuses worked out the tension in their shoulders.

So I return to the richest, creamiest texture I’ve ever tasted with this particular dish and decide this is another Grayson creation that’s going on the menu at Bailey’s Clambake. Damn it. I cannot disassociate myself from my lifelong dream. I further understand that I can’t leave Nick hanging for too long. So I reach for my sparkling water once again and take a deep drink. Then I say, “I’m not exactly primped and prepped for a gala.” “We have a spa and salon onsite. Naturally, I’ll have stylists and a team of masseurs sent up to the apartment.” Hmm. Naturally. Excuse #1 for avoiding this affair is instantly tossed out the window.