Friendly Competition

Brandi sits in her car, gripping the phone tight. Another regular gone. Four clients lost to that place down the street. Enough. She demands her receptionist book her an appointment under a false name, call from a payphone, keep it clean. The text arrives. She’s expected now. She walks the block, opens the door, scans the room with disdain. Cheap lighting. Thin towels. She murmurs that the place looks tacky. Jill turns from the reception desk. Recognizes her instantly. Brandi still faces away. When she finally turns, Jill lifts a brow, calm, controlled. “Have we met before?” She knows exactly who stands before her, yet holds the line. No scene. Not yet. She welcomes Brandi anyway, voice light. “Here for a massage?” Brandi answers by insult. She’s heard complaints, wonders how the salon stays open at all. Jill smiles wider. “Let me show you why they keep coming back.” Brandi eyes the table. She presses a hand against it. “This thing sturdy enough?” Jill gestures to the clothes. “Undress.” Brandi holds her gaze. “Aren’t you turning around?” Jill tilts her head. “Wouldn’t be the first naked woman I’ve seen.” Brandi strips fast, lets everything drop to the tile. She climbs onto the table naked, no towel offered, no modesty kept. Jill pours oil straight onto her spine. Brandi snaps, “Warm it first. Always.” Jill murmurs an apology, rubs her palms together, starts again. Her strokes reach the small of Brandi’s back. Brandi mutters that Jill must have learned in some alley. Jill presses harder, lets the silence stretch. Fingers move lower. Over the curve of Brandi’s ass, slow circles, deep pressure. Brandi exhales. “That… actually feels good.” Jill’s reply is quiet. “This how you treat clients at your place?” Brandi freezes. The question hangs. She asks, throat tight, how Jill guessed. Jill laughs softly. “You probably don’t remember. I used to get massages from you years ago. That experience made me want to open my own shop.” Recognition clicks. Brandi’s voice lifts. Surprise, warmth. “I remember you now.” She’s almost smiling as she says it, glad the girl who once lay on her table stands above her now.