Chapter 7
Early, day one of the mission, LAX
Gabby tightened her Hermès scarf, pushed her Gucci shades up her nose, and stepped out of Markus’s car as Gia Glanville.
One second in, and life as Gia was different.
She could feel it, the designer leggings soft against her skin, a heavy polished jade pendant nestled between her breasts, and Louis Vuitton luggage rolling along.
It wasn’t just that the wheels worked better—she was starting to work better.
At the baggage check, Markus lifted her Louis onto the scale. When she started filling out a luggage tag, Markus pointed out an engraved gold tag on her bag’s handle.
Markus was beaming at her like she was his entire reason for living. Like he was sharing a secret, he told the checker, “We’re getting married this week.”
The baggage checker reacted like it was scripted from a sitcom. He clutched his heart and sighed. “I’m upgrading you.” With an over-the-shoulder glance, he said, “Don’t tell my boss.” Without a second thought, he tapped at the keyboard and printed them new tickets. “Enjoy.”
Was this how it felt being rich and famous?
The TSA line was their first official appearance as a couple, if you didn’t count the baggage counter.
Even with priority, they had to weave through a curlicue line, pretending not to notice the people around them.
Really, it was just a reality show with no plot—staring at the other passengers and guessing at relationships and destinations.
She could feel eyes on her and Markus. They were that couple, fancy luggage, dressed like A-listers, smelling of tropical vacation and designer perfume. A grandma winked at her in a way that Gabby interpreted as “Way to go!”
She snuck a glance at Markus. If she wanted, she could make this real. The ball was in her court.
The entire airport was a dreamscape of Markus holding Gabby’s purse, gesturing to let her go through the body scanner first, gently guiding her through lines with his hand on the small of her back in a possessive way, and then there were the endearments.
“Babe, do you want a sweater?” “Hey, Beautiful.”
Half an hour later, they were boarding the plane. Was it her, or was the flight attendant nicer than usual? With a sparkling smile and a flash of white teeth, the attendant said, “Welcome. What takes you to Boston, business or pleasure?”
“Pleasure,” Markus answered without a second thought. It didn’t seem like a lie. He pulled her into his side like he cherished her. “We’re continuing on to the Azores. To get married.”
Gabby was starting to think that Gia probably didn’t even know what anxiety was. Gia might not even miss Gabby’s old life. Pretty soon Gabby might not miss her old life.
The flight attendant brightened. “Congratulations! That is so exciting!” She held up her hand to let them know to wait.
After disappearing into the galley for a few seconds, she returned with two miniature bottles of champagne.
The passengers in line behind them weren’t quite as excited.
“What’s holding up the line?” someone griped.
“A wedding or something,” someone else answered, not sounding the least bit excited.
The flight attendant shook her head and smiled. “Have fun, you two.”
Once secured in seats 4a and 4b, Markus held his glass up and said, “To a successful… vacation.”
They clinked glasses. At the moment, it felt even better than a vacation, a vacation where they wouldn’t be pressured into signing up for zip line adventures, where she would end up standing in line with a woman from Chicago with the vague feeling they were all being swindled and possibly going to die. This was a vacation with purpose.
Giddy from champagne and flattery, Gabby’s optimism was lifting off faster than the plane.
All the concerns of the last week already felt an ocean away, which they soon would be.
She had not been fair to Markus this week.
Well, she hadn’t been bad to him, but the work-wife thing—at the very least, she could have been clearer.
“Are you even sure it’s really a cult?” Gabby leaned in close and whispered.
She’d listened to a podcast about cults and was leaning toward “It’s a cult” in the way Starbucks or Costco was a cult.
Not every cult ended in a suicide pact. Some just left you with an overpriced latte and confusion over whether you’d just been had or you belonged to something that mattered.
“A cult?” someone repeated in an overly loud voice. “I used to be in a cult.”
Gabby gasped and glanced up to see a large woman who looked like she’d absolutely been through it. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair a mess. It looked like she’d rolled down a grassy hill fully dressed with her luggage before boarding the plane.
With a glance at her phone, the woman, who definitely projected just-out-of-a-cult said, “I think I’m in the window seat.”
Gabby and Markus stepped into the aisle holding their champagne while the woman squeezed more luggage than looked legal into the overhead and under the seat in front of her. When she settled into her chair with a large Ziploc bag of homemade popcorn, she introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Susan.”
“Gia,” Gabby said. “And this is George.”
Susan smiled. “Nice to meet you, Gia and George. Where are you two from? I live in Encino now, but I grew up in Reseda.”
Gabby said, “Encino is so pretty!” She didn’t add anything or answer the question, subtly hinting that this convo wasn’t going anywhere.
The captain came over the speaker and announced, “Flight attendants, prepare for takeoff.”
“I know you wouldn’t believe it to look at me now, but I was in a yoga cult,” Susan said, not taking the hint.
The flight attendant stopped at their row and said, “Ma’am, can you buckle up?”
“Damn it. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice. Can you maybe scooch up on a cheek so I can get this thing buckled.”
Markus flashed a conspiratorial look at Gabby.
“A yoga cult, you say?”
“I studied with Guru Jagat for a while, before she went off the deep end.” Susan proceeded to shut her eyes and inhale deeply. When she exhaled, part of a piece of popcorn flew out.
“Do you still practice?” Markus asked. Nothing about Susan said yoga or centered. Gabby loved that about her.
“On this trip, I’m going to try some yoga without the crazy.” Which is when she noticed that Markus had Power Couple pulled up on his TV. “Have you seen that?” Susan asked. “I was going to watch it on the plane.”
Apparently, Susan was going to check out Inner-G too.
Gabby shook her head. It had been on her list of things to do before leaving for the trip, but she hadn’t gotten around to it. She pulled out her phone to read the plot summary on IMDb.
After reaching international success with movies like G-Force, Genesis Love made his directorial debut with Power Couple, a story that he’d been working on since high school.
Despite being largely snubbed by awards shows, it won the Golden Globe for Best Score and was nominated for Best Costume.
Notably, Margo Martindale was nominated for Best Supporting Actress for her role as G’s psychic advisor.
Power Couple became an instant cult classic.
POWER COUPLE
G (played by Genesis Love) is a man who doesn’t know that he has been a Silicon Valley office drone.
He lives in a condo filled with appliances, glued to his phone, checked out of real life.
He is a slave to the machines. After a poignant moment in a garden, which has died on his watch, he realizes that the tech giants haven’t stolen his power; he has freely given it.
G declares war on the machines, quits his job, and moves into the woods, gathering his strength to wake up the rest of society.
After trying to defeat the machines with lasers, he realizes that he can’t win alone.
He comes to the conclusion that he needs to join with an equally powerful woman to become a true Power Couple.
At their wedding, they ascend to the fourth dimension. He and his bride become so powerful they destroy the Facebook-esque company they used to work for and pave the way for a better world.
Gabby read it twice, and then a third time.
“What do you think?” Susan asked.
Markus said, “You know how sometimes a star gets too big, and then they make a movie and no one tells them ‘no,’ and it just turns into a big sprawling post-apocalyptic mess with lasers and too many monologues?”
Gabby nodded.
“That’s Power Couple.” With a smirk, Markus said, “It’s probably not true, but I heard that Kim Jong-Un is G’s number one fan.”
Kim Jong-Un was going to have to compete with Susan for the top fan prize.
Gabby couldn’t handle any more Power Couple, so she calmed herself with the flight tracker. At least that made sense. While she stared at an outline of a plane slowly making its way across the United States, Markus picked up his phone and texted someone.
It pinged with a response, and Markus looked at the phone in a way that made her wish it were her. Three more back-and-forths, and Gabby asked, “Who are you texting?”
“G.”
“G?” Her voice low and steeped in accusation, she pointed at Susan’s screen where Genesis was meditating so hard that a beam of light was coming out of the top of his head.
Susan had put on her headphones and hopefully couldn’t hear.
Gabby leaned in as close as possible and whispered, “You mean the same G we are investigating for abduction and running a freaky cult?”
The corner of his mouth pulled up in unrepentant amusement.
“Markus,” she said sharply. She was just a regular spy on a mission with her partner, whom she trusted. She did not sign up for Mr. and Mrs. Smith.
“What? He’s funny.”
“Just don’t forget who he is, okay?” she said. Please don’t let me find anything.
“Gabby, I’m a professional. I’ve got this.”
Was he doing a really good job with undercover work, or was he getting too cozy with a guy they would have to arrest before the weekend was out?
Two minutes later, the fasten seat belt light turned off, and Markus stood to use the bathroom. He left his phone sitting on his seat, just daring her to snoop.
Instead, Gabby stared deliberately forward at the flight tracker.