Chapter 16 #2
As she picked at her meal while craving bacon and eggs, her gaze wandered across the dining room, cataloging the familiar faces she’d begun to recognize.
Blond Bob sat ramrod straight at a corner table, her precision-cut hair looking freshly styled despite the early hour.
She was methodically consuming what appeared to be a deconstructed acai bowl, each spoonful calculated for maximum nutritional impact.
Dark Curls sat near the back, her long hair catching the morning light as she sipped her beverage. Even at eight in the morning, she looked like she’d stepped off a magazine cover, her velvet tracksuit somehow coordinated perfectly with the spa’s decor.
Grouchy Grandma was already in full form, complaining to her server about the temperature of her herbal tea and the firmness of her gluten-free toast. The poor staff member nodded with practiced patience, undoubtedly accustomed to managing difficult guests who paid premium prices for the privilege of being demanding.
Desert Barbie had claimed a table near the windows, her over-bronzed skin practically glowing in the natural light.
She was smiling as one of the staff photographed her breakfast from multiple angles with what appeared to be a professional-grade camera.
Desert Barbie managed to lean far enough to smile at the camera, ensuring she would be on the spa’s social media presence.
Basketball sat alone at a table designed for much shorter people, her knees bumping the underside as she tried to navigate the delicate china with hands that seemed more suited to handling a basketball than dainty teacups.
Sadie felt a surge of sympathy for the woman, recognizing a fellow fish out of water in this sea of luxury.
Zen Girl was half-asleep over her green smoothie.
Her perpetually drowsy expression suggested that not even the spa’s regimented schedule could overcome her natural inclination toward unconsciousness.
Vanilla Ice’s hair was pulled back in the same topknot as yesterday, making Sadie wonder if she slept with it that way or if achieving that perfect tousled look required more effort than it appeared.
Melinda wasn’t sitting close to her, but the two women managed to catch each other’s eyes, nodding their greeting from across the room.
Twenty minutes later, Sadie found herself being herded along with the other guests toward the yoga pavilion.
She stared dumbly at the stunning glass-walled structure that seemed to float above the desert floor like a crystal bubble.
The space was flooded with natural light, offering panoramic views of the surrounding landscape while maintaining the climate-controlled comfort that guests clearly expected.
Yoga mats were arranged in precise rows, each one accompanied by props and accessories that Sadie had no idea how to use. She grabbed a mat in the back row, instinctively preferring a position where she could observe the room and its occupants without feeling exposed.
As other guests filtered in and claimed their spots, she was pleasantly surprised to see Melinda approaching.
The woman looked as out of place as Sadie felt among the designer-clad yoga enthusiasts, her practical workout clothes and minimal makeup a refreshing contrast to the carefully curated appearances surrounding them.
“Mind if I sit next to you?” Melinda asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the ambient music that had followed them into the pavilion.
“Please do,” Sadie replied, genuinely pleased to have an ally in what promised to be an hour of stretching and pseudo-spiritual platitudes. “I was hoping I’d see you again.”
Melinda sat on her mat, and the two women cast glances around the room.
Sadie took in how other guests settled onto their mats with the practiced ease of people who attended yoga classes at exclusive studios as part of their regular routines. “I have to admit, I was dreading doing this alone. Everyone else seems so... comfortable with all this. Yoga isn’t my thing.”
“Yoga isn’t my thing, either, although I did some in college.”
Their whispered conversation was interrupted by the instructor's arrival. The woman was willowy with the kind of ethereal beauty that suggested she survived on nothing but filtered air and positive energy. Her flowing white garments seemed to move independently of any earthly breeze, and her voice carried the breathy quality of someone who’d spent years perfecting the art of speaking in spiritual clichés.
“Welcome, beautiful souls, to this sacred morning practice,” she intoned, her hands pressed together in prayer position at her heart. “I am Seraphina, and I’ll be guiding you through a journey of awakening and transcendence.”
Sadie barely managed to suppress a snort of laughter, catching Melinda’s eye and seeing her own amusement reflected there. Seraphina? She wondered whether her parents had actually named her that, or if it was part of the spa’s commitment to manufactured mystique?
“Let us begin by setting our intentions for this practice,” Seraphina continued, her voice taking on the hypnotic cadence of a meditation recording. “Close your eyes and connect with your deepest desires for transformation and healing.”
As the instructor launched into a lengthy monologue about chakras and energy flows, Sadie found herself studying the other participants through half-closed eyes.
Most seemed to be taking the spiritual rhetoric seriously, their faces arranged in expressions of earnest concentration.
A few were clearly going through the motions, probably counting down the minutes until they could return to more comfortable activities.
But it was the staff member positioned off to the side of the room who caught her attention.
He seemed more interested in observing the guests themselves, but she had no idea what he was looking for.
He took notes on a tablet, and his attention lingered on certain guests longer than others.
Sadie noticed that both she and Melinda were among those receiving extended scrutiny.
The observation sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the pavilion’s air-conditioning.
Combined with last night’s encounter with Brock James and her growing unease about the spa’s controlling atmosphere, she wondered what interest Serenity Dunes had in their guests that extended beyond simple customer service.
“Now, let us move into our sun salutation sequence,” Seraphina announced, her voice cutting through Sadie’s troubled thoughts. “Flow with the breath and allow your spirit to soar.”
As the class began moving through the poses, Sadie found herself grateful for Melinda’s presence beside her. Her intuition told her that Melinda wasn’t at the spa just for a rejuvenating experience.
But as she participated in the yoga sequence, her mind kept drifting to Todd’s voice on the phone the night before, and the way he’d said she was missed.
For the first time since arriving at the spa, she found herself wishing she was back in Montana, surrounded by people who knew and accepted her exactly as she was—sharp edges, sarcasm, and all.