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“Poor Juliana, your muscles are so stiff. “Does that hurt?”

“No, the opposite.” I moaned again. I’d been organising a conference on behalf of my employer in another city. Mila grinned. What’s happening?”

My eyes flew open. It was rather dark, the decor was dull red lighting and walls that were made to look like the inside of a cave, and there were artificial flames flickering in niches. Even the thought of sitting in a car again made my heart race and my lips grow numb. But I’ll get better.”

“Not the way you look, you won’t. “Let’s do your front.”

Obediently, I rolled on to my back. “Tell me if I hurt you,” she said when she came to my right shoulder joint, the one that had been dislocated. “Juliana, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. “What was that for?” I asked. Who’s going to massage me?”

“I will, of course.” She poked the bag she’d put down with her foot.