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Taking some deep breaths, I will the memory and the emotion to subside. But my brain is looping…
After about thirty minutes of this I give up and grab my Kindle. I am happy to follow all the other rules but abstaining from reading is not going to work for me. I need some distraction from how uncomfortable I feel right now.
Morning starts waaay too early at Northern Dharma. It’s 6 am and the wake-up bell is chiming. Fuck, I feel like Ijustfell asleep.
I groggily get up, slip into some sweats and head down for the first meditation of the day. Luckily, this one is only 30 minutes and then they feed us breakfast. Not that I’m hungry. When I’m home I often don’t eat until lunch. I’ve just never been much of a breakfast girl. But, a cup of coffee will certainly taste good. And hopefully, the caffeine will wake me up more fully.
I walk into the meditation studio and locate a good spot off to the side of the room. Having no idea what I’m doing, I definitely don’t want to be front and center, for everyone to look at.
After building up my spot with a mat and a cushion, I take a seat and look around the room. I see the women I met last night, both of them also wearing sweats and looking about as tired as I feel.
There is a spot at the front that is obviously reserved for the meditation teacher. Behind that is a small statue of what appears to be Bhudda, some large crystal bowls and a gong. The room smells like a mixture of lavender and incense.
Two rows ahead of me I see the back of a dark-haired man. There is something about him that looks familiar. I stare at him for a while trying to place him and he eventually turns his head to look at something on the left side of the room. Oh my God, I think it's Spencer Sullivan. It can’t be! Why wouldhebe here?
I continue to stare in his direction trying to figure out for sure if it’s him. He turns his head to the right and smiles at the woman next to him. It absolutelyishim. He has a very distinctive smile, with a subtle dimple on his right cheek. And, those eyebrows… Yes, it’s definitely him.
I am completely in shock and have a hard time concentrating while Arthur begins our first meditation session by giving the gong a good thwack.
I haven’t seen Spencer since the night he walked me home from the bar. There was a vibe that night. A little flirting and then that kiss right before he left. It felt like he was coming in for a full-on kiss on the lips but changed his mind at the last minute. I couldn’t read what was happening and then it all just felt awkward. I was wondering what it was going to be like to see him again. How he’d act. I guess I’m going to find out. Except… we won’t be able to talk to each other.
We have communicated a few times over email but neither of us mentioned that last encounter.
I am supposed to be sitting here and concentrating on my breath. In. Out. In. Out. But all I can think about is Spencer. This is literally the last place I expected someone who is so obsessed with work to be. Did he realize he would have no contact with the outside world while he’s here? No emails, no texts.
My mind wanders to what he’ll do when he sees me. I’m guessing he’ll be just as surprised to see me as I am to see him.
Chapter 8
Spencer
What the actual fuck am I doing at this place? It’s 6:30 in the morning and instead of finishing up with my workout and starting the trek to the office for a productive day, I am sitting on the floor with a bunch of women in yoga pants. There are a few other men here but I’m pretty certain they were coerced into coming with their wives or girlfriends.
I arrived late last night after an afternoon meeting went way over the scheduled time. When I got here only a few people were still milling around. The staff was super pissed I had arrived during the silent period. All participants had been instructed to arrive before dinner. But, it couldn’t be helped and certainly, they must understand that some of us have companies to run.
I slept horribly, tossing and turning all night. This bed is a lot smaller than mine at home and definitely not as comfortable. And, then the fucking bell started chiming at 6. I obviously should have done more research before deciding this was a good idea. My therapist had suggested this place and I trust her to steer me right.
But, decidedly, I needed a break from work, a break from the city and the constant running at breakneck speed. This is definitely a departure from my usual everyday activity. I’m just wondering if there’s any possibility they have a suite with a king-sized bed that is unoccupied… And, could I maybe get a martini and a steak delivered at the end of the day?
We are now about fifteen minutes into the first meditation of the day. I’ve meditated some on my own but never for more than about ten minutes. My brain is jumping around all over the place. I believe they call it “monkey mind.” I take a deep breath and slowly let it out, willing my body and brain to both relax and stop the constant chatter.
The gong indicating the end of the session finally sounds. Everyone gets up and starts filing out the door. I follow suit, hoping desperately that the coffee waiting for me is strong enough to power me through what looks to be an endless day of… sitting.
After following everyone into the common area I make a beeline toward the coffee pot and pour myself a large mug. I glance around, trying to decide where to sit. And, then I see her. Sasha Jackson.
She is sitting with a couple of other women, all of them staring into their coffee, taking long sips and occasionally smiling at one another. She glances over and sees me eyeing her. She smiles and waves awkwardly. There is no surprise on her face so I’m guessing she already saw me during the meditation session.
What are the chances we are both here at the same time? It’s absolutely crazy and I chuckle to myself, silently of course.
After we are finished with breakfast, we all start our individual chores for the day. I have been assigned to kitchen prep, which is a joke since I can barely cut up my banana for my morning granola.
I am set up in the kitchen with what appears to be several hundred carrots and the cook gives me a knife and indicates I should cut the carrots into bite-sized pieces. Judging from what the other kitchen people are doing it appears that we are cutting up all the ingredients for veggie soup.
I go about my task, stopping to look around every now and then. Sasha is in the dining area, sweeping the floor. I watch her while she sweeps, caught up in the fluid movement and how she subtly sashays her hips from side to side while she works. She has on black yoga pants that hug her curves and a light gray sweatshirt. She glances up and catches me looking at her, no doubt feeling my eyes on her. She gives me a little smile and goes back to sweeping. Her face is free of makeup and I notice how full her lips are.
She somehow seems to get hotter every time I look at her.
The next session is a teacher-led talk by Arthur. We all file into the room, taking our seats on the floor again. I glance around and locate Sasha, trying to appear like I was merely stretching my spine rather than looking for her. She is a few rows behind me and thankfully has her eyes closed so doesn’t catch me looking at her.
