We stop. All three of us, at once, too fast. My pulse slams up into my ears.Fuck, he thinks we’re sus. Three steps from the back hallway...
The guard pushes off the wall and crosses to us. Steps right up to Ash.
I shift my weight, already running the math on how fast I can get my brothers out the door—
“Man,” the guard says. “That is acleanstache.”
Silence.
Ash blinks. “... Thank you. I appreciate that.”
The guard nods at us and ambles back to his wall.
Ash turns his head, slow, and gives me and Bram what can only be described as a very snobbish look.
“I told you,” he mouths. “This stache’s where it’s at.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and keep moving.
The hall opens up into a little waiting area. There are three closed office doors on the left, and on the right, tucked behind a hanging tapestry, another hallway.
I slow up, casual, pretending to study a wall hanging of a very serene frog.
“Okay,” I murmur. “We made it. That’s our hallway right there, has to go deeper into the place, which is where Luna will be.” I glance both ways. The waiting area’s empty. The guard’s around the corner. “So we just walk right in. Subtle. Don’t rush it. On three. One. Two. Th—”
“Oh,excellent!”
A woman with a clipboard, a beta it seems, steps directly into our path. Flowing linen pants. A nametag that saysSun.
Damn it.
“We are so backed up today,” Sun chirps, and seizes Ash by the elbow. “Thank the universe you’re ready. Come, come—the interviewers are waiting.”
“Huh, actually—” Bram starts, dropping into his deep rumble.
“No need to be nervous!” She’s already herding us toward the doors. Behind her, two more linen-clad staffers have appeared from the offices, smiling, reaching.
I catch Ash’s eye. His smooth, salesman mask has shattered, his chest rising in a silent panic. Bram’s jaw is clamped so tightthe muscle is twitching under his fake hair. Both of them are giving me the exact same look:what the fuck do we do now?
We can’t bolt. Not with the guard around the corner. Not with three retreat employees standing here. Fuck, we’re stuck.
Sun shoves Ash through the first door, points Bram at the second, and turns to me with a smile that could power a small town.
“And you’re inhere.”
She steers me through the door, then clicks it shut behind me.
The air in the little office is thick with patchouli and burning sage. Sun walks behind a tiny bamboo desk and sits.
“Please have a seat,” she says.
I drop into the wicker chair across from her.
She slides a sheet off a stack and runs a finger down it. “Ah. Yes. You’re applying to guide our guests through their physical and spiritual journeys. Our newest yoga instructor.”
Wait. What?
“Yoga,” I repeat.
