Daniel packed several bags of red Matrix into his insulated satchel while three women in their thirties and forties reclined in salon chairs. Their eyes were closed and their breathing slow and regular. Daniel moved faster than he wanted, getting more anxious by the minute. He unpacked a tray of hot, moist towels and gently wiped their faces. One woman snored.
“Please relax and take your time before standing, you may be light in the head. Be careful of alcohol and of driving.”
They all had been quiet, not at all like Marie’s clients.
Maybe it was the champagne, he thought. Maybe I should suggest it for next time.
He didn’t like rushing. He believed that conversation, his flirtatious patter, helped them relax and built a bond, an investment in long-term business. But tonight he was pressed for time. He picked up the envelope with his check, slipped it into his case, and quietly let himself out.