The sun was intense and the air buzzed with warmth when I opened the tanning salon at seven o’clock this morning, an early summer day that promised few customers.
I didn’t mind; I was out late last night, sipping margaritas with a few friends at the La Mexa Restaurant bar. The drinks went down a little too easy while we teased the bartender and flirted with the guys playing pool, and my hangover was no surprise.
The cheap tequila and recently turning 21 probably didn’t help, either.
Somehow I managed to unlock the front door, turn on the OPEN sign, flick on the lights, and pick up a movie magazine from the lobby, all without spilling my mocha. I made my way to the reception desk, thinking it might be an okay day – until I caught the edge of the desk with my little toe.
“Damn!”
No need for that coffee - I was awake now!
Cursing, I limped to the back bathroom where I slipped off my short-heeled sandal and gingerly placed my foot on the toilet seat. I found a little skin rubbed off the side of my pinky toe and some apple-red nail polish chipped away, but it didn’t look serious.
I had just enough time to check my makeup, tuck a few blonde locks of hair behind my ears, pull my t-shirt over belly piercing, and smooth my jeans over my ass before the first customer walked in.
"Hi, Sara."
I returned to the lobby, still holding my sandal, and was greeted by a middle-aged brunette standing by the desk. She’s a frequent customer, but I can never remember her name - Jane or Joan or something. She usually stops in before she goes to work.
"Morning!" I said, sounding more cheerful than I felt. I sat down behind my desk and tapped the space bar on my computer. "What's your number?"
"9-0-3-8. Can I get 20 minutes?"
"No problem, Jamie," I said, reading her name from the computer monitor. I punched her time into the control panel on the wall. "You'll be in room four."
"Thanks!"
Jamie disappeared down the dim hall, and after I heard her door snick closed I started thumbing through my magazine. I couldn’t really concentrate, though, because the slight throbbing in my toe matched a mild throbbing in my head. I put my foot up on the edge of my desk and gently massaged it, working my thumbs from the top to the toes, then back down the arch, and this seemed to help.
The doorbell dinged and I glanced up as another customer walked in. It was Jim, an older guy, tall and lean - cute, but a gold band on his finger. He worked the night shift and tanned after work. He always smiled and appeared to be in a good mood, which I didn’t understand considering the hours he worked.
“Hey, Sara. How’s it goin’?”
“Oh, not bad. You?”
“Can’t complain.” He saw me rubbing my foot. “What’s up?”
“Mm, stubbed my toe,” I said, somewhat embarrassed.
Jim winced. “Ouch! That’s a nice toe, too. Hold on a second.” He went over to the soda machine in the corner, popped in some change, and came back with a can.
“Put this on it,” he said, offering me the soda.
I looked up at him through my bangs. “You sure? I’ll pay you for it.”
“Nah. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “If you don’t drink it I’ll take it with me.” I took the soda and thanked him, then punched up his usual time for his usual bed.
“Got me memorized, huh?” Jim joked, grabbing an extra towel from the rack and walking down the hall.
After he left, I nursed my toe with the icy can. While rolling its soothing coolness over my toe and thinking how thoughtful Jim was, I noticed that the way I was sitting allowed him to see right down the v-neck of my shirt. I wasn’t in the mood to put my bra on this morning and he must’ve had a superb view of my tits.
