6. Stretching is the Difference Between an Expert and an Amateur
6
STRETCHING IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN AN EXPERT AND AN AMATEUR
No matter how much money or status you have, everyone gets a small thrill at seeing their name printed on a sign held by someone at the airport.
At the sight of her name written in elegant cursive on a crisp, white board, held by Madeline, the driver Hanna booked for the trip, Hazel squeezed Hanna’s arm in thanks and turned to her friends in excitement.
“See, at least someone recognizes who the leader of this group is.”
Daphne scoffed and looped her arm through Hazel’s.
“Leader? Hah! They only wrote that so you wouldn’t forget what your name is.”
“I’ve never forgotten anything in my life,” Hazel shot back before Lillian and Mai joined in the good-natured teasing.
Red hair cut in a stylish bob, Madeline smiled as the group approached.
“ Bonjour , you must be Madam Eversham and her lovely friends.” Four heads nodded in agreement, their eyes wide in appreciation over her lyrical accent.
“It is so nice to meet you all. My name is Madeline and I will be your chauffeur during your stay in France.”
“Madeline, what a beautiful name,” said Daphne.
“Were your parents fans of the children’s books?” Mai asked.
While Madeline answered the group’s questions–no, her father had a fondness for the sponge cake of the same name; yes, she was born and raised in Paris; her favorite thing to do was explore new restaurants, and yes, she had dined in the Eiffel Tower–Hanna led them towards their baggage carousel.
Hanna met Madeline several years before at a housewarming party for a mutual friend.
While sharing a story of a group who refused to walk anywhere, Hanna was interrupted by Madeline, who offered the services of her family’s private car company.
Efficient, accommodating, and always in touch with the best places to eat, Madeline quickly became one of Hanna’s favorite contacts in the city.
“Anna.” She also dropped the h in Hanna’s name, as was practice for Latin-based languages.
“It has been too long. Last time you were here I barely got to see you. This time, you will make time to go dancing, yes?”
Notes of citrus and bergamot settled around them as they exchanged air kisses.
With a fond smile, Hanna pulled back from her friend’s embrace.
“Perhaps. I am staying in the city for a few extra days.” Hanna was in the process of booking a trip with a small family, the Delgados, who were vacationing in Europe and heard about her services from a friend.
Taking a few days off between trips, it made sense to stay in Paris while the Delgados finalized which city, or cities, they wanted to hire Hanna for.
“Dancing?” Daphne bumped her hip playfully into Hanna’s.
“You’ve been holding out on us. Now we all have to go out and party.”
Hazel gave her a puzzled look, brows furrowed in a way that her grandson must have inherited.
“You told me you did not dance.”
Not with guests , Hanna thought to herself.
But, as she opened her mouth to respond, Madeline cut in.
“Not dance? Anna? She was born for the dance floor. Why, you should have seen her when–”
“ Madeline ,” Hanna rushed to interrupt her in French, “ not in front of them, please .” There were several possible endings to that sentence, and Hanna did not want any of them spoken out loud.
Some stories were best kept between friends.
Madeline shrugged off the comment, as she was used to Hanna’s detachment from her guests.
“Fine, but these seem like the type of women who would appreciate you having a bit of fun. Maybe you can start with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”
Desperate for a distraction, Hanna glanced around.
“Oh, look, our bags are here.”
Clearing her throat around the awkward transition, Hanna stepped towards the moving carousel as the first of their bags came into view.
Further discussion of dancing or other activities halted as bags were retrieved and the group loaded into Madeline’s car.
Then, the sights and sounds of Paris surrounded them as they began the slow crawl through traffic to their hotel.
As Madeline expertly navigated the streets, Hanna pointed out landmark destinations to the group, turning sideways in her seat to watch their faces light up brighter than the City of Lights with each view.
Well, all their faces except one.
Noah watched her with a slight frown on his face, not once turning to look out the window when Hanna gestured to each famous location.
“You shouldn’t sit like that,” he gestured to her unbuckled seat belt.
Seated directly behind her, Noah leaned forward so that he spoke in her ear.
Turning even more so that she could look him directly in the eye, Hanna swallowed around the rapid pulse in her throat at their proximity.
This close, she could practically count each of the dark lashes framing his gorgeous eyes, the blue popping against their dark frame.
Not that she wanted to count them…
that would be absurd, frivolous, and, oh, so tempting.
“I can sit however I want.” Hanna redirected her frustrating attraction into this new battle with Noah.
“Besides, I hardly see how it concerns you as long as I can do my job.”
Without missing a beat, Hanna gestured to a famous cafe and explained its importance to the group.
When Mai gushed over the flowers spilling across the awning and began telling her friends a story she heard about the cafe, Hanna was glad that the group had reservations there for later in the week.
“It’s not safe,” Noah said firmly.
“You should also wear your seat belt.” It took Hanna a moment to remind herself what they were talking about and she was about to retort that it was not his job to keep her safe when their eyes met.
Above the firm set of his jaw and downturned lips, Noah’s eyes were filled with worry.
His dark brows drew lower as he glanced between Hanna’s less than secure position on the chair, the lack of seat belt, and the road in front of them.
Each aggressive maneuver that Madeline made to navigate the streets of Paris sent pulses of fear through Noah’s gaze.
Was he worried about what would happen to their group if Hanna was injured, or could Noah’s concern be for her?
Either way, Hanna’s heart wanted to reach out and soothe the fear that was practically radiating off him.
“Okay,” she said while maintaining eye contact as long as she could while turning to face the front.
She reached up and pulled the seat belt down and fastened it with a click.
As she settled into the seat back, Hanna felt the brush of air against her ear as a whispered, “thank you” moved through her hair.
Looking up, Hanna met Noah’s gaze in the rear-view mirror and gave him a warm smile.
There was no helping the blush that stained her cheeks when he returned her smile with one of his own, lifting the dark clouds from his eyes.
Hanna straightened in her seat before continuing her abbreviated tour of the city.
“–and then, we realized that the microphones were still on! The interns caught the entire conversation, and bam, we were famous on the TikTok.” Mai finished telling the story with a flourish of her wine glass, the liquid sloshing precariously near the edge as she descended into giggles.
Dabbing at tears of laughter from the corner of her own eyes, Hanna took a sip of water and made a mental note to look up the viral video of Mai and another museum board member asking if “slaps” meant that their intern wanted her to hit someone in their “Gen Z Writes the Script” video.
With her soft voice and polished appearance, Mai’s evident confusion over the slang was trending for its wholesomeness.
If only they could see her now, pink cheeked and drinking the rest of the party under the table.
Well, the rest of the party with the exception of Hanna and Madeline, who both stopped after two glasses, waving off additional glasses with the excuse of work.
Squeezed into a velvet-backed booth around a low table, the group was finishing an early dinner near their hotel.
Before checking into their hotel and taking a short break to freshen up, Hanna took the group to the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower, iconic locations that they would drive past multiple times over the next few days.
Hanna felt it was best to get those locations out of the way as soon as possible so that the group was not distracted on their other excursions.
It also helped ease the group into the jet-lag, keeping them up until a reasonable hour without exhausting them.
“So, you’re telling me…” Daphne’s bracelets jangled as she waved her wrist. “That you had no idea what the words meant, yet you still agreed to be filmed? Sometimes when I talk to my grandniece and nephews, I swear it sounds like they are speaking a different language.”
Tipping her head in Daphne’s direction in agreement, Lillian said, “Agreed. It would be a cold day in hell before you caught me in one of those videos.”
“That is because you don’t know how to laugh at yourself,” Hazel chided playfully.
“Besides, if it gets kids interested in the museum, that seems worth it.”
“Exactly,” Mai agreed.
“Several schools reached out after the video came out to inquire about field trips.”
“That is wonderful!” Hanna grinned widely.
“One of my favorite memories from school was visiting a museum.”
School itself was not one of Hanna’s favorite activities, nontraditional as her education was, but she remembered the day their homeschool group went to a museum.
It was Hanna’s first dip into the sea of exploration, all contained in one, magical building.
At the museum, Hanna could pretend that she was in far off places, discovering a thirst for venturing into the unknown and learning about different cultures and cities.
Limited by where her parent’s jobs took the family, museums represented infinite possibilities, all in visually stunning format.
“Do you have a favorite?” Noah leaned around Hazel to ask.
Throughout the evening, Hanna exchanged limited words with Noah.
As with any group on its first day, most of the evening was spent with the four friends catching up and a lot of questions directed at Hanna regarding her life outside of tours (practically nonexistent) and her most memorable tours–a woman, nameless, of course, who was indignant that they could not tour Buckingham Palace because the Queen was in residence and insisted that she was a friend of a friend of the Queen and that it wouldn’t be a problem.
Noah remained quiet, his observant eyes tracking the conversation in the soft light offered by the cylindrical lamps hanging from the low ceiling.
“A favorite…?” Hanna’s hair slipped over her shoulder as she leaned forward, and Noah followed the movement of her fingers as she tucked it behind her ear.
Having the full force of his attention was unnerving, the lighting softening his gaze in a romantic way.
Resting his forearm on the table, exposed by rolled sleeves, Noah’s rich voice carried to Hanna.
“Museum. I’m sure you have visited quite a few.”
“I have, which makes it difficult to pick a favorite.” Giving herself a moment to think, Hanna took another sip of water and Noah followed suit.
Turning over the dozens of museums she had visited in her lifetime in her mind, Hanna struggled to select a favorite.
Art, music, history, or science, they all had subcategories and niche subjects.
Turning back towards Noah, Hanna opened her mouth to answer, but the words caught in her throat.
Lowering his glass to the table, Noah licked a drop of water from his lips, his tongue following the curve of his lower lip, leaving Hanna speechless.
They were not even seated next to each other and yet it set Hanna’s body aflame.
Her bottom lip tingled with awareness as if he had caressed her lip, not his own.
All too happy to encourage that line of thought, Hanna’s imagination supplied an image of Noah leaning into her, no one between them, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb pressing into her bottom lip to part her lips before swiping his tongue across it.
“...Hanna?”
She jolted out of her fantasy at the sound of Noah’s voice, flushing deeper in embarrassment at having been caught thinking salacious thoughts about a guest. Not that he knew what she was thinking about, but just being distracted by the thought was enough.
Refocusing, Hanna smoothed down her skirt reassuringly before replying.
“It is going to sound like a cliché, but the Louvre is my favorite museum. With the sheer number of exhibits and pieces on display, and in archives, I feel like I could visit over and over again and still have something new to see. The curators keep it fresh and interesting, even with statement pieces like Mona Lisa on display at all times.”
“Then we are lucky to have you with us when we visit tomorrow.”
With that reminder, Hanna discretely signaled the waiter for their check.
Despite the boisterous attitude of the women, Hanna caught them stifling yawns throughout the meal and knew that they should get back to the hotel soon if they were going to start early the next day.
Art lover or not, the Louvre was an all-day excursion.
“Your confidence in me is flattering, but fortunately for you there will be an actual art historian with us tomorrow. My love of the museum notwithstanding, there are limits to even my knowledge.”
“And you have me.” Lillian’s voice broke through their bubble.
“I studied art history in college, and my family donated many paintings to museums. You might have heard of the exhibit the Met put on last year with our collection.”
Hanna was genuinely trying to like Lillian, but after listening to her brag about the wealth and prestige she married into the entire evening, the designer-obsessed older woman was quickly becoming her least favorite of the group.
Entitlement was nothing new for Hanna, and she was used to letting it roll over her like fog, but compared to Hazel’s normalcy, it was a jarring contrast. People are who they are, mija , Hanna’s mother would say.
The only thing you can control is how you respond to them.
With that in mind, Hanna gave Lillian a tight smile over her shoulder as they filed out of the booth.
“How generous. I am sure it was a lovely exhibit and I look forward to hearing your insight tomorrow. It is always nice to have another expert in the group.”
Puffed up with pride over the compliment, Lillian launched into a story about a mishap that occurred during the art donation as her friends trailed behind with indulgent smiles on their faces.
The following day would be a blast, listening to Lillian act like she knew more than their guide and waltzing around like she owned the place as they saw some of the world’s best artwork.
Already, Hanna was mentally practicing deep breathing exercises to prevent stabbing Lillian with one of her pointy stilettos.
After a day walking through the Louvre, Hanna removed her pair of sensible, low-heeled walking shoes, and sat on the chair in her hotel room, allowing herself a moment of stillness after the long day.
Only a moment. Between the long flight with little movement and then a full day on her feet, Hanna knew that she needed to get back up and stretch before tightness settled into her muscles.
Consistent stretching was the best way to prevent injury and chronic fatigue as a tour guide.
It did not matter how great of shape you were in, stretching could make or break you.
With a small groan as she got back up, Hanna pulled out her gym clothes from the dresser and laced up her sneakers, slipping her phone and hotel key into the pocket of her leggings and scooping her hair into a ponytail.
She would stretch in her room in a pinch, but if the hotel had a gym, like this one did, Hanna preferred to get out of her room.
Not only did it mean more space, but it also helped provide delineations for her mental health.
Bedrooms were for sleeping and getting ready, not work.
The gym was located on the top floor of the hotel, several sets of weights and a row of machines shining in the bright light of the room.
When Hanna stepped into the room, she could see the pool glistening in the moonlight from outside the glass wall that separated the gym from the heated pool and spa.
Other than the whir of air conditioning, it was quiet.
Hanna had the room to herself.
Moving to the far wall, away from the equipment and with enough space to stretch freely, she set down her water bottle, phone, and room key and stood with her arms to the ceiling.
Flowing from one position to the next, Hanna settled into the gentle rhythm that relaxed her body and mind, focusing on her breathing and the pull of her muscles.
Later, Hanna would double check the bookings and schedule for the next day, as well as respond to messages from potential clients, but now, this time was just for her.
A sharp beep signaled the unlocking of the door a moment before it opened.
Folded forward with her hands tucked under her feet, Hanna tipped her head sideways to greet the new arrival.
Noah stood just inside the doorway, hand paused halfway to his ear, one headphone dangling as he stared at Hanna.
Dressed in a fitted T-shirt and loose gym shorts, Noah still managed to look polished, his hair styled just as perfectly as it was when she first saw him that morning.
At least Hanna’s workout just started and she was not a sweaty mess.
Thoughts of different places, where being sweaty with Noah would be encouraged, flittered through her brain.
Suddenly, the room felt hotter, the gently whirring air conditioning no match for the heat that sizzled between the room’s two occupants.
“Sorry,” Noah said, “I didn’t think anyone would still be up. Do you mind if I join you?” He motioned towards one of the racks of weights and then towards the room at large, headphones swaying in the air.
Remaining upside down while talking to him felt like giving Noah the upperhand, so Hanna rose.
“Not unless you plan on grunting like one of those obnoxious gym-bros. Otherwise, there is plenty of space for us both.”
Cracking a smile, Noah stepped towards the weight rack.
“Noted. I’ll keep any grunting to myself.”
Okay, the air conditioning was definitely on the fritz because Hanna was burning.
Was Noah flirting with her?
That definitely sounded like it and the flare of heat in his eyes looked flirtatious.
But pursuing that line of thought was dangerous.
She did not want to give Noah any new reasons not to trust her or risk losing her job.
Responding to it was even more dangerous, so Hanna resumed stretching, surreptitiously watching Noah out of the corner of her eye.
And if the next group of stretches happened to show off how flexible she was and display some of her assets to their best advantage?
Well, that was purely a coincidence.
Each time she twisted, Hanna looked over her shoulder and caught the quick flicker of Noah’s lashes as he looked away.
She felt a smug satisfaction bloom in her chest at the thought that his slight flush was caused by her, not the exertion of his weightlifting.
In the opposite corner, Noah sat on a bench, lifting and pressing dumbbells in a series of movements that Hanna did not know the name for but looked impressive.
The bottom of his shirt rose when his arms reached overhead, a sliver of Noah’s toned stomach peeking out beneath the fabric.
Momentarily transfixed by the tan skin exposed over gray shorts, Hanna forgot what she was doing and watched Noah’s muscles flex in fluid motions.
“See something you like?” Smirking, Noah raised one eyebrow in Hanna’s direction.
Caught, Hanna’s heart pounded in her chest as tension froze her body.
How did he want her to respond?
With a lie to preserve their boundaries or the truth that would bring them to uncharted territory?
Potential responses pinged through Hanna’s brain, frantically searching for the correct one.
Then she realized that Noah did not want the perfectly composed answer.
He wanted her answer, whatever it might be.
Lowering her shoulders from where they hiked up to her ears, Hanna faced him directly.
“Please. Don’t act like you are not purposely showing off to impress me.”
His smile stretched across his face.
“So you are impressed,” he said with a flex of his pecs.
“Besides, you are no better with those ‘stretches.’”
Hanna widened her eyes in mock-innocence.
“These are completely legitimate stretches. You would know if you read the information I provided about the importance of stretching at the end of each day.”
“Mmhmm.” He cocked his head to the side and ran his eyes up and down her body.
“Trust me, I would remember if any of the stretches you recommended were supposed to look like that.”
She flushed with pleasure at his appraisal.
Despite Noah’s status as a tour guest, Hanna found him attractive.
Not only was he incredibly handsome, with his thick hair, rugged jaw, and muscled body, but his dry wit and deep well of concern appealed to Hanna.
Noah listened with an intensity that pulled her in, wanting to share all her worries and dreams so that he could keep them safe.
But Hanna did not trust that feeling.
He was only in her life for two more weeks, then he would move on with his life and leave her behind.
Just like everyone else.
No one picked her to stay with.
She was the vacation away from normal life, a rest stop on the way to the destination.
It was better to keep things light and fun, that way it could not hurt her later.
Nearing the end of her workout, Hanna kneeled on the floor, bending to press her chest and arms flat while her hips rose into the air.
Not an overly complicated position–Hanna was both impressed and terrified by yoga practitioners who could contort themselves into pretzels–the position released tension in her back, causing a low groan of satisfaction to slip past Hanna’s lips.
Immediately aware that the sound was louder than expected, Hanna squeezed her eyes shut, praying that Noah had his headphones in and missed the unintentionally sexual sound.
Her luck was never that good when it came to Noah.
A low grunt, like someone punched him, sounded from Noah’s corner of the room.
Whipping her head in that direction, Hanna saw Noah’s eyes screwed shut and lips tightly pressed together.
His arm hung limply at his side, hand open with the forgotten weight laying haphazardly on the floor.
“Are you okay?”
“Just dropped the weight on my foot,” he ground out.
Hanna rose quickly, moving towards him before Noah put up a hand to stop her, twisting his hips away from her.
“It’ll be fine, just grazed it really. I just…need a minute.”
“Are you sure? I can get you some ice.”
A thin circle of blue was visible around his enlarged pupils when Noah looked at her.
“No, I can get it myself. I’ve already troubled you enough by interrupting your free time. Walking it off will probably help too.”
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Hanna nodded.
“If you are sure. Pharmacy is closed by now, but I have aspirin if you need it. Just text me and I can bring it to you.”
Noah stood and returned the dumbbell to the rack before moving towards the door.
“Thank you, but I’ll manage. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
Hanna knew she would not be able to enjoy the rest of the night, not while she worried about Noah’s foot.
Of course her attempts at light flirting would lead to an injury.
Lesson learned. But as she watched him leave, closely monitoring for any signs that he might stumble, Hanna’s concern melted into smug satisfaction.
Noah was not walking out the door like someone who injured his foot.
No, Hanna suspected the grunt came from a pain a little further north.