Quickly realizing that a scant hour was nowhere near enough time for his massage sessions with her, Matthew had bumped them up to ninety minutes. Sasha would spend a brief part of each session teaching him breathing and meditation techniques, and had encouraged him to take a few minutes out of each day to practice them.
She'd seemed inordinately pleased when he had told her that after their very first appointment he had gone out and bought all of the supplements and vitamins she had suggested, and even more so when he'd acknowledged that they already seemed to be having results. He was sleeping better at night, had more energy during the day, and more endurance during the workouts he was able to squeeze in. But when he had begun to ask her for advice on changes he should consider making to his diet, Sasha had hesitated.
"I don't want to sound like some sort of dictator, Matthew," she'd told him. "I'm the first to admit that I keep to a very rigid diet – no meat, chicken, or fish, very little dairy, lots of organic fruits and vegetables, and practically no processed foods. And I rarely drink any alcohol. I realize that it's unrealistic to expect most people to adhere to that sort of diet, so I generally don't try and impose my standards on others."
"But you're not dictating to me," he'd pointed out. "I'm the one asking you for advice, and I think I know you well enough by now to realize that you'd never try to impose your will on someone else. And while I may not be ready to go to the same extremes you've done, I know that I need to make some changes to what I'm currently doing. I don't feel healthy right now, so give me a few ideas to help me start changing that."
And thus, little by little, he'd begun to make those subtle changes to his diet and lifestyle over the past few weeks. Ian had nodded his approval at lunch last week when Matthew had ordered grilled salmon instead of his usual cheeseburger. Though Elena had stared at him in disbelief when he'd asked her to get him some herbal tea instead of coffee.
"You sick or something, boss?" she'd queried sarcastically. "Because I can't think of any other reason why you'd drink chamomile tea instead of your usual triple espresso."
Matthew had grinned. "Maybe I finally figured out all that caffeine is bad for my stress level. By the way, hold all my calls for the next fifteen minutes, would you? It's time for my morning meditation."
Elena had felt his forehead then, convinced he was burning up with fever. But when his skin had been cool to the touch, she'd merely shaken her head and walked away, muttering something under her breath in rapid fire Spanish. All he had been able to decipher had been "ese hombre está loco", which he figured meant something like "that guy is crazy".
But cutting back on his caffeine intake, eating less red meat and fried foods, and limiting himself to one beer or glass of whiskey a day had already begun to have positive effects. He'd lost a few pounds, especially around his mid-section, and the dark circles under his eyes had faded. He was overall in a better, happier, and calmer mood, and had more patience when confronted with problems at the office.
Dealing with his hopefully soon to be ex-wife, however, was still every bit as vexing as always. And, unfortunately, getting Lindsey to agree to the divorce was not going to be nearly as easy as cutting back on caffeine or alcohol or giving up triple bacon cheeseburgers. Feeling his fists begin to clench tightly in irritation, Matthew took another of those deep, soothing breaths, holding it in at the top for several seconds, and then expelled it slowly. He repeated this action several more times before he felt a sense of calm begin to wash through his senses.
'Forget about Lindsey for now,' he told himself. 'You've got more important things to deal with today. Not to mention something to look forward to this evening.'
He was booked for a ninety minute massage with Sasha, and while he always anticipated those appointments with an inexplicable sense of excitement, he was looking forward to tonight's more than usual - most likely because the appointment would be taking place at his condo for the first time.
After he'd discovered that Sasha always administered Ian and Tessa's massages at their home, he had asked her if she might also be able to offer the same sort of service to him. She had hesitated briefly before informing him that yes, she did do in-home massage for a few of her clients, but only those who could provide a massage table and the other equipment she'd need.
"I don't own a car, you see," she'd explained, "and it isn't always possible for me to borrow one to get to appointments. And since it would be a little tricky to cart a table and my other equipment on the bus, the only way I can offer in-home services is if the client has all of that available."