Just Breathe (12 page)

Dee sat numbly in her car, trying to comprehend Mike’s words. It wasn’t fair. Emily had two great kids and a husband who adored her. She dug around in her bra strap for a tissue to wipe her eyes. She thought of Lauren and Kate in the family room, how they’d joined in on some of Emily’s earlier sessions, how her hospice room was decorated with Kate’s cute paintings and Lauren’s talented sketches.

A car started up behind her, dragging her back to the present. And the time. She was late. Really late. She turned on her phone, hoping there wasn’t an impatient message from Ethan. She was meant to be in his office in five minutes.

It was two weeks since the house party and, according to Ethan’s scary secretary, Tuesday from 2.45 to 3.30 was the only time he could squeeze her in in the next decade.

Not that she had any great desire for a business conference right now. Nice and all that he was, she felt more like going home and crying. She started the car, dialled his number while dabbing at a tear lodged under her lashes.

‘Ethan Roxburgh.’ His voice was terse.

Dee tried for friendly yet harassed. ‘Hi, it’s Dee. I’m so sorry but I’m running late.’

‘Yes.’

She winced. Ethan Roxburgh probably wasn’t kept waiting very often. ‘I went over time with a student but I’m on my way.’

There was a moment’s pause. ‘How long will it take you to get here?’

She checked the dashboard clock. Perhaps if she dragged it out, he’d decide he didn’t have time to wait. ‘At least fifteen minutes, depending on traffic and parking.’

He blew out an impatient breath. ‘I’m meeting someone at the café under the building at three-thirty. I’ll see you there in fifteen.’

Damn. Dee worked the accelerator harder.

Manoeuvring her way through the afternoon traffic, she took an anxious look at the green yoga flyers on the passenger seat. She’d only managed to fill the backside of four pages with the kind of information she thought Ethan would want. It had taken ages and a mini forest of trees to come up with that much. There must be a name for this kind of mental block. It was entirely possible Ethan would take one look at them and say he was wrong about her potential, that her business wouldn’t sustain a monk on a hunger strike and her only hope for survival was to find a job that actually made money. She didn’t need advice from Ethan Roxburgh. Her mother had already told her all that.

Dee dropped into the seat opposite Ethan and slipped her recycled flyers timidly onto the table. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

He looked up from a wad of notes he was reading, his eyes dark and unimpressed. ‘You don’t need to keep apologising, Dee.’

‘Oh, sorry. I mean, um …’ God, I’ve upset Ethan Roxburgh.

He checked his watch. ‘We haven’t got a lot of time so we may as well get straight to it.’ He folded his arms and leaned forward. ‘One of the first lessons in business is that time is money. If you don’t learn to manage your time, your business will never succeed.’

This wasn’t the nice, I-find-you-intriguing Ethan from the house party. This was an all-business version and the flinty look in his eyes made her anxious. ‘I’m usually careful about keeping to the lesson times but my last student needed a bit more today.’

‘Did you incorporate it into your fees?’

Dee swallowed hard. After her session with Emily his attitude irked her. ‘Yoga isn’t the kind of business you can run by the clock. Part of my job is to understand the needs of my students and sometimes that means running over time.’

He gave a brief smile. ‘You won’t have a business for long if you think like that. The money you earn is as important as your students. If you don’t make money, you can’t afford to teach.’

An image of Emily’s pale face scrunching in pain filled her mind and anger gurgled in the base of her throat. He might be Ethan Roxburgh, business know-it-all, but she didn’t want this kind of advice right now. ‘When one of my students is counting the rest of her life in days and an
extra half-hour of meditation helps to make that time a little easier, then I don’t really care how much money I lose by mismanaging my time.’ Dee gripped the edge of the table. ‘And, to tell you the truth, I not only didn’t charge
extra
, I didn’t charge her at all. And I don’t intend to charge her when I go back on Thursday or any other day I’m lucky enough to see her again.’ Her breath caught in her chest. She really wasn’t going to see Emily again. ‘And if running a good business means missing out on meeting people like Emily, then I’m not interested.’ Her throat felt thick and her tear ducts tingled. Don’t cry in front of him. She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. ‘And you know what? I really need a coffee right now.’ She stalked to the counter.

Crap. She’d just told Ethan Roxburgh to shove his advice up his arse. She blinked hard and wiped at tears before they tumbled. A large part of her wanted to sob loudly and sadly but now wasn’t the time or the place. If she hadn’t left her handbag at the table, she would have just walked right out. Instead she ordered strong coffee and a large chocolate slice of comfort food.

‘I’m sorry about that. I’ve had a difficult day.’ She sat back down again, not quite looking him in the face.

‘Maybe we should leave that discussion for another time. I’m sorry about your student. Are you okay?’

She nodded, saw his eyes had lost their flintiness. ‘Perhaps this isn’t a good idea. You don’t have much time and I’m pretty frazzled.’ And she wasn’t sure she was going to like his advice.

‘You’re here now and you obviously need a caffeine hit. We can talk while you drink. Is this your business plan?’

He picked up her notes before she had a chance to take them back, unfolded them, seemed confused by the yoga flyers.

‘I wrote some stuff on the other side.’ She turned them over, smiled apprehensively.

He laid the four pages out like tarot cards, read methodically through each one. Dee’s heart was hammering in her chest as he took a pen from inside his jacket, scribbled a few words, a couple of question marks. He glanced up at her, back down again, placed his forearms on the table. ‘Oka-ay.’

Her face burned. She wanted to take her pages and run but the waitress arrived with her order. When she left, Dee said, ‘There’s not much there. I didn’t really know what you’d want. There’s not much anyway. Just my rates and costs and, um, stuff.’ What else was there?

‘Oka-ay.’

What did that mean?

‘What do you charge?’

‘It’s right there.’ Dee pointed to the figures she’d written down.

‘Do you have half-hour classes?’

‘No. That’s my hourly rate.’

‘You could easily charge twice that.’

‘Twice? I can’t ask my students to pay double for the same lesson.’

‘No, but you could raise your prices over time.’

Dee wiped her hands down her skirt. ‘But what if they don’t want to pay more? I don’t want to
lose
students.’

‘Lucy would pay three times that to have her hair done. If you’re good, they’ll pay. And if they won’t, there’s always someone else who will. Don’t undersell your product.’

My product?

‘What are these figures?’ He pointed to another page.

‘They’re my costs, petrol and clothes and stuff.’

‘Uh-huh.’ He scanned across the numbers. ‘Where do you keep your money?’

‘In a book.’

‘You mean a bank book?’

‘Sort of.’

Ethan lifted his eyes from the notes he was making.

Dee winced on the inside. ‘Well, one of my students gave me this really beautiful yoga book a couple of Christmases ago. You know, one of those big coffee-table books and …’

He nodded.

‘It’s really big’ – she held her hands wide to show him – ‘and full of beautiful photos.’ He obviously had no idea where this was going. Best just to say it. ‘Seeing as most of my students pay in cash, each night I work out how much money I’ll need for the rest of the week and put it in the front couple of chapters. Anything left over I put in the back for savings.’

His lips parted just a fraction.

‘And, well, it’s great, because when I need money I get to flick through the book and check out all the lovely photos and get a bit of inspiration at the same time. And the last chapter is about my yoga guru in India, which is where I go when I’ve got enough leftover money, so anything I find in there I know is savings.’ She shrugged lamely.

Ethan watched her a while longer, a small line forming between his eyebrows.

She gave a quiet he-he of awkward laughter. ‘It’s amazing how much money one book can hold.’

Shit, Dee. You are an idiot. Why didn’t you make something up? Why didn’t you tell him about the boxes? You keep money in boxes, as well. She mentally slapped herself. ’Cause that’s
just as dumb. Perhaps she could quietly leave and step in front of a bus.

‘Oka-ay.’ Ethan picked up his pen, slowly rolled it between his fingers, one side of his mouth turning up just a tad. ‘That’s certainly one way of doing it.’

What was she thinking, turning up at a meeting with Ethan Roxburgh with a few scraps of paper and no idea?

‘I, um, I’m really sorry.’ She stacked the pages into a pile. ‘I think I’ve wasted your time and I’m kind of embarrassed right now. So I’m going to go.’

‘Ethan.’ A striking redhead in a black power suit was towering over their table.

Ethan’s eyes flared in surprise, as though he’d been caught out. He checked his watch before standing. ‘Shelby. Hi.’ He kissed her cheek and she smiled just for him. ‘Dee, this is Shelby Dansen. Shelby, Dee Nichols.’

The woman held out her hand to Dee while taking in every inch of her singlet, tights and the skirt she’d thrown over the top. ‘Hello, Dee. Gee, I wish I had time to go to the gym this early in the day.’

‘I’ve been teaching yoga,’ Dee corrected.

‘Are you at uni or something?’

‘No, I’m a yoga teacher.’

‘Dee’s the star of the new Health Life commercial,’ Ethan interjected.

‘Oh, you’re a model.’ Shelby dismissed her with a superior raise of her manicured eyebrows and turned to Ethan. ‘Have you ordered yet?’

Wow, discriminated against on two counts, Dee thought. ‘Here, take my seat. I was just leaving.’ She stood, pushing her chair towards Shelby, and scooped her notes off the table. As she turned, Ethan grabbed her hand, the one with the yoga flyers.

‘I think they’re mine,’ he said.

She took a firmer grip.

He held on. ‘You’ve got to give me
something
to work with.’

‘But I thought …’

He shook his head, held her eyes with his. ‘We’ve only just started, Dee.’

The breath left her lungs. How could she say no to that? She loosened her hold, let him slide the pages free.

‘I hope I never have to teach a class like that. What did you do?’ Leon asked.

Dee blinked against tears and played with her muffin while Arianne and Leon watched her with a mixture of horror and sympathy. It was Sunday afternoon, Dee had just finished the class and they were sitting at their usual table at the back of the café two doors down from the yoga school.

She shrugged. ‘I told them Mike called last night to say Emily passed away. Then we had a spontaneous group hug and we all cried. And they decided that because Emily loved the Sunday class, even when she wasn’t strong enough to do anything, that although we were upset, we should do the lesson anyway. For her.’

‘That must have been really hard,’ Arianne said.

‘Yeah, it was. I just tried to make it simple and talked a lot to keep everybody focused.’ Dee pressed her lips together for a moment. ‘I kept seeing Emily in her spot under the window, the way she used to lie on her back practising her breathing while everyone else was working around her.’ She gave up trying to contain it and tears dropped on her bag as she dug around for a tissue.

Arianne gave Dee’s shoulder a comforting rub. ‘How’s Mike?’

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘Devastated, of course, but he seemed kind of at peace with it. The funeral’s on Thursday.’ She stirred her coffee without drinking any. ‘I just wish I’d seen her one more time. Said a proper goodbye.’ She’d slipped into a coma on Thursday morning, a few hours before her session with Dee.

‘How are you doing?’ Leon reached across the table and took her hand.

‘I just feel really, really sad. It’s going to be awful breaking the news to students all week and trying not to cry when I’m teaching. And the funeral …’ She shook her head. The anxiety animal would have a field day.

‘Are you going to be all right teaching my classes? Do you want me to find someone else to do it?’ Arianne had given up more than half her lesson schedule now, most of which Dee was covering.

‘No, it’ll be good to stay busy.’ She worked on a convincing smile. The extra money from Arianne’s classes was great – she’d had her car serviced and put a little more aside for a new sofa – but her body was sore and she felt overloaded. Dirty clothes were piling up, her half of the fridge was bare and she had no shampoo. She stretched her calves under the table and hoped Arianne didn’t notice.

‘What about on Thursday?’ Arianne asked. ‘Do you want me to find someone to fill in for you so you can go to the funeral?’

Dee shook her head. ‘I’ll do the first two, they’re pretty early, but I’ll cancel the next one and I’ve already spoken to Howard about the two in the afternoon. Then there’s the six-thirty class at the school. I can’t afford to drop any more so I’ll just have to pull myself together for that one.’

Leon nodded. Arianne patted her shoulder some more. Dee wiped her eyes.

‘Is Tom the Hollywood Jesus going to the funeral?’ Leon asked.

Dee laughed a little. Trust Leon to keep her head out of the blues. ‘No, he didn’t know Emily and we’re still just doing coffee. A funeral might be too intense at this stage.’

‘A Jesus could be useful at a funeral.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Any sparks yet?’

Coffee – or, rather, Tom’s herbal tea and Dee’s double-strength espresso – had become a twice-a-week get together. Tom was sweet in a serious, dedicated-vegan kind of way. She told him about the advertising industry party and Ethan’s offer and he thoughtfully warned her about the corrupting influence of big business. ‘We’re still getting to know each other.’

‘You’ll be sick of him by the time anything sparks,’ Leon said.

‘It doesn’t seem right looking for a spark with Jesus.’ Arianne lifted her coffee to her mouth, made a sickly face and put it down again.

‘Are you feeling any better?’ Dee asked.

‘A bit but I really miss my classes.’ Arianne rubbed her little ball of pregnant belly.

‘Still tired?’

‘I wish I could sleep for the next five months and wake up when the baby needs to be pushed out.’ She suddenly slumped back in her chair as though she couldn’t hold on to her positivity any longer. ‘Lucia made it look so easy. She was still teaching two days before Zac was born. I feel like a zombie and I’m dumping my classes on everyone else.’ She heaved a shuddering sigh. ‘Oh, damn. Pass me one of your tissues, Dee.’

Dee and Leon exchanged helpless looks as Arianne took her turn dabbing at her eyes.

‘Right,’ said Leon. ‘I think we need to balance the emotion meter. Time for a good laugh. Dee, what’s the latest with Ethan Roxburgh?’

Her tales of self-humiliation in the presence of Ethan Roxburgh had kept Leon and Arianne
entertained since she’d met him at Lucy’s party. She glanced at Arianne’s red-rimmed eyes and knew she’d prefer to be laughed at a little more than see her Amazonian friend cry. ‘What was the last you heard?’

‘Café, embarrassing outburst, power-suited woman,’ Leon said.