Chapter 1
Dane Andrews had been working at Oh Holy Spa! for more than five years and had become an expert in both sales and service, from how to select and install the proper liner for an 18-foot-round backyard above-ground pool to his near encyclopedic knowledge of hot tub chemistry.
His customers gave him rave reviews without fail.
"When we decided to buy a hot tub for the first time, Dane walked us through it step by step and we couldn't be happier now!" -- Anna, New Brunswick
"Dane Andrews might be the most knowledgeable hot tub salesman and repair guy in the galaxy. Plus, you couldn't hope to meet a nicer guy." -- Debra, Collinsworth
"I couldn't be more pleased with the service from Dane at Oh Holy Spa! Five stars!" -- Luna, Woodsgrove
All but one.
Once or twice a week since she purchased a Jet Stream 3000 from Oh Holy Spa! nearly two months before, Anya Destina would call Dane with a complaint and demand that he come out to look at it. The water clarity was off. The cover wasn't fitting right. The jets had an unusual hum to them. There was something wrong with the filter.
And each time, he'd arrive -- taking the elevator all the way up to the ninth floor of her Gateway Apartment building -- he'd find nothing wrong with it.
"Your filter is fine," he'd say. Or "The chemistry checks out."
So when the phone rang late on a Friday afternoon, he already knew who it was.
"What is it this time, Miss Destina?" he asked. "It's the best hot tub money can buy. I assure you that it's fine. I think you just need to get used to it."
"The water isn't hot enough now," she said. "It's ok but it's not heating up as much as it should. I think the heater isn't working right or something."
Annoyed, he nearly refused to go. But company policy was to never refuse a service request. It was why customers were willing to pay more at Oh Holy Spa! and why he never got a bad review -- almost never anyway.
Besides, her voice was hard to resist. It was as sweet as it was deftly deployed. And she wasn't exactly hard to look at either.
But there was no way -- none at all -- that there was a thing wrong with the hot tub he and his employees had lugged up nine flights and installed on her deck just two months before. Nevertheless, he sighed and said yes, just as he had more than a dozen times before.
"I'll be over in about an hour," he said.
******
When he stepped off the elevator onto on the ninth floor, he was already irritated, even though he'd agreed. An occasional service call was one thing. But this was getting ridiculous.
"Thank you for coming," Anya said when she opened the door.
"It's my pleasure," he said.
"I tried to get in about an hour ago when I called, and the water just wasn't as hot as it should have been I don't think," she said as he followed her through the luxurious apartment, filled with high ceilings and pristine white furniture. "I jumped right out, as you can see."
She wore a short white cotton robe, cinched at the waist, her sun-kissed light brown skin contrasting against it. She wasn't an exceptionally tall person, but her arms and legs were long and toned, and her pink flip-flops smacked the tiled floor as she walked.
She wore her long dark brown hair in a single braided ponytail that swayed over her shoulders and back as she walked. It was hard not to look at as he followed.
The deck overlooked a courtyard, and the hot tub offered a great view of the surrounding neighborhood. However, it wasn't exactly private, so Dane had also recommended a privacy screen -- like a giant set of blinds that could be pulled down from the overhang above. She'd paid quite a bit extra for it, but at the moment it was not down.
Dane dropped his canvas tool bag on the concrete deck and started going through his troubleshooting checklist.
"Look," Anya said, dipping one of her long slender fingers into the water and running it across the surface. "It's not very hot, is it? Feel it."
Dane stuck his hand in the water and rolled his eyes when he looked away. It felt fine, but he humored her anyway. She reclined in a lounge chair as she watched him work, legs stretched out in front of her.
"It feels ok to me, to be honest," he said. "But I'll check the heater, the thermometer, the cover and the filter. Those are the usual culprits when the temperature is off."
Dane removed the water temperature gauge from his bag and slipped it into the water.
"This won't lie," he said.
A minute later, he pulled it out, water dripping back into the spa.
"It says 104 degrees," he said. "Just where it's supposed to be."
Anya pouted and crossed her arms over her ample chest.
"That can't be right," she said, pursing her full cranberry lips. "Sometimes when I'm in it is when the temperature feels off the most. It's hard to tell with just a hand."
"I'm sorry," he said. "That's what it says."
Her penetrating emerald eyes narrowed and she kicked off her flip-flops.
"Maybe I should get in and show you," she said.
Dane was taken aback, a slight blush falling across his cheeks.
"I don't think that's necessary," he said with a laugh. "Let me check underneath."
Dane removed the faux wood access panel on the side of spa and made sure all the pump and heating components were functioning properly -- just as he had the week before and the week before that.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I'm just not finding anything wrong with it."
She grimaced again, giving her normally warm, welcoming face a hint of sourness.
"Maybe you should get in," she said suddenly.
Dane laughed again.
