London“I desperately want Loïc Berkeley, and I’m used to getting what I want.”
—London Wright
I relax back into the large tan chair as the massaging balls beneath the leather roll up and down my spine. The contraption working my tired muscles isn’t as divine as a real massage would be, but it’s a close second, especially when it’s paired with a pedicure. I let out a content sigh as a woman massages one of my feet with a soft scrub.
Just what the doctor ordered—and by doctor, I mean, me.
Paige and I love spa days. They’re very healing. When we feel a moment’s stress, our go-to fix is an old-fashioned mani-pedi—and by old-fashioned, I mean, one that takes place in the newest salon in town with the most attentive staff and state-of-the-art massage chairs. Oh, and free wine, not that piss
