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Was this really the same woman she had met before?

“I set the bed up, if you’re comfortable with that?” Monti asked, checking in like she always did.

“I am.” Athena sidestepped toward the bed, sliding onto the edge of the mattress.

Monti followed her, sitting next to Athena for a moment. “Only when you’re ready,” Monti murmured. “I brought the same oil as before.”

Athena nodded, but didn’t say anything. She leaned forward slightly, the buttons on her blouse parting to reveal the pale skin of her breast, the curve shadowed by the dim light in the room. Monti averted her gaze immediately. She would give Athena as much privacy as she could.

“What do you think would be most comfortable for you?” Monti watched Athena carefully, looking for any sign that something was wrong.

“Nothing is ever comfortable,” Athena muttered.

“Something has to be.”

Flicking her gaze up, Athena bit her lip. “Not today.”

“Why today?”

Sighing heavily, Athena pulled her body backward on the bed, her legs straight out in front of her. Her toes were painted a dark maroon, and she wiggled them. Monti smiled at the move. Athena was already more comfortable with her than she had been before.

“My son is turning twenty-one in a few weeks,” Athena said, though her tone didn’t bely any emotion.

She was masking. Monti was sure of it. But she had successfully pointed out the problem, which was a step in the right direction. “That’s a big milestone.”

Monti filed away the information that something major had happened twenty-one years ago. Athena had brought up that number multiple times, although she was pretty sure that it was more than just having a baby. Which was also odd. Athena had failed to mention her husband and her son more times than not when they should have come up in conversation.

“It is,” Athena answered, her voice trailing off. “Are we going to start?”

“Sure. If you want to.” Monti gestured to the bed. “Where would you like me to start today?”

“No preference.”

Athena lay down, her body not quite relaxing into the pillow. She stared up at the ceiling, her long lashes moving every time she blinked. If Monti wasn’t careful, she could get lost in those lashes, in Athena’s eyes, in her bod—nope. She really needed to stop that line of thought.

Immediately.

“I’m going to move your hair.” Monti put her hands next to the pillow, standing behind Athena’s head.

Athena lifted her head slightly so Monti could pull her hair out from under her head. Monti combed her fingers through Athena’s hair gently. “I’ll start with your scalp, if that’s all right.”

“It is.” Athena dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly, finally relaxing a little more.

Monti started with her fingers gently pushing into Athena’s scalp. She bided her time, trying to figure out a way to ask a question that would get Athena thinking and talking. She could already tell that Athena was closed off, probably as a way to protect herself. But what exactly happened twenty-some-odd years ago that would cause that.

“So what are you doing to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what?” Athena tightened her jaw.

So that was a touchy point. “Your son’s birthday?”

“Kevin is taking Simon to Las Vegas.”

“All right.” Monti moved down to Athena’s temple and then her jaw. “But what are you doing to celebrate?”

Athena sighed, and Monti could distinctly see her heart thudding hard in her chest. Was she that anxious? Did she feel that threatened?

“Tell me if you want me to stop something, okay?”