Lauren squeals. “Thank yousomuch. That’s just what we need. Hope was up all night. Seasick.”
“Oh no, Miss Lanover! Would you like a ginger tonic?”
My mouth goes dry at the idea of more ginger.
“No, thank you. I’m feeling much better.”
They give us champagne instead. I donate mine to Lauren.
We change into bathing suits and robes and are taken into a warm, cave-like room made out of pink Himalayan sea salt. There are two copper tubs in the middle. They look like bathtubs, but they don’t have taps and are half-full of fine black sand.
“This is volcanic basalt sand from Montserrat,” one of our two spa attendants, Lucie, says. “It’s incredibly mineral rich and contains detoxification properties that purge impurities from the body. It’s heated to 104 degrees Fahrenheit for a warming treatment that will stimulate your circulatory system and awaken your senses.”
This soundsveryhot to me but I obey Lucie’s instructions to take off my robe and step inside. The sand is soft and pleasantly warm under my feet. I sit down in the tub and stretch out.
Lucie and her colleague Chanlina then proceed to bury Lauren and I in a layer of hot sand up to our chins. They turn on soft New Age music and tell us they’ll return in half an hour.
Lauren groans rapturously. “This feels amazing.”
“It’s like if a hot tub were a weighted blanket,” I agree.
“I’m never getting out.”
“How was the casino last night?” I ask her.
She sighs. “Well, first it was promising. I ran into that guy Ralph I met hiking and we played roulette. But then he totally granddaughter-zoned me.”
I snort. “What does that mean?”
“He completely missed all my signals and started giving me life advice and talking about his kids. Then he offered to set me up with his grandson in Arkansas.”
“Maybe the grandson is nice?”
“I’m not moving to Arkansas unless it’s to marry a Walmart billionaire. The grandson works at a nonprofit. Nothankyou.”
“Yeah, people who devote their lives to nonprofits must be terrible.”
“You know what I mean. Anyway, then I went up to the cigar bar to see if I could meet someone else, and sat down next to this very handsome guy who was alone and not wearing a wedding ring. I said hello and he was friendly enough and he asked what I was doing and I said I was hoping he’d buy me a drink. And do you know what he said?”
“What?”
“He informed me thatdrinks are free. Like hello! I know that, sir! I’m hitting on you?”
“Ha. Suave.”
“So then I ordered a cigar and went to sit by the piano to smoke it and look beguiling. Cuz like, who is not going to chat up a beautiful girl smoking a cigar alone, right? It’s sexy and a perfect conversation piece.”
“Right.”
“Well, guess who came over and joined me? A group of threewomenon a girls trip. So I had to talk to them about tasting notes of Cuban versus Nicaraguan tobacco, which obviously I know about because you have to in my line of work, and they kept asking me questions and it took me like an hour to extricate myself. And by then I was all stinky from smoke so I decided to go upstairs and shower. And that’s when I found you half-dead in the bathroom.”
“I’m sorry it was a bust.”
“It’s fine. I made plans to meet Colin, that Irish whiskey distiller, at the outdoor dinner thing tonight. Do you want to come? He’s extremely charming and has cute friends.”
“Maybe. I’m going to see what Felix is up to.”
“Felix, eh,” she drawls.
