Authors: Jocelyn Kates
Chapter 13
Perhaps predictably, Adele did not sleep well that night, either. Her outburst at Danny had sent adrenaline shooting through her veins, the lingering drops of rage still pulsating just below her skin. She kept reliving the moment in her head, deriving one part satisfaction and one part misery. Danny’s face—so stricken, so shocked, scared even, like a little boy caught stealing candy from a shop and knows the consequences ahead—conjuring that face in her mind now, her stomach knotted uncomfortably, and she felt a pang of regret. But then she remembered Propel, and Organify, and GreenGrub, and Kelly, and outrage swooped in to take the place of sympathy. It was a tango of the two emotions, plus a few others, all night long.
By the time she stumbled dazedly into class the next morning, she was so tired and emotionally exhausted that she felt close to nothing. Her head was empty. Her skin felt dull, her body slow and heavy. She walked to the corner of the room where students could store their mats and grabbed hers. Unrolling it in the back of the room (
If there was ever a back-of-the-class day, today is it,
she thought), a white slip fluttered out and skittered across the floor, landing a few feet away. She leaned to pick it up, and saw that it was a carefully folded sheet of paper, the words “To Adele” written neatly on the front.
She closed her eyes briefly, absorbing this, wishing she had greater emotional bandwidth at that moment. Fortunately, she opened her eyes to see Ajuni in his characteristic lotus position in the center of the room, the signal that class was starting, so she could put off dealing with this until later. She tucked the paper underneath her mat, and then gingerly folded herself into her own lotus position. As she tried as best she could to clear her mind, class began.
Three hours later—quite a long three hours, Adele felt—when class ended, Adele had grown unbearably impatient to read the note. Her feelings had shifted from exhausted apathy to vague curiosity to an overpowering need to know
right this second
what the note said. She hastily rolled up her mat, all but threw it into the corner, grabbed her bag and the paper, and trotted out of the studio.
Part of her felt that she should go somewhere special, or at least private, to read the note, but she didn’t have time for that. Plopping down on the grass just twenty yards or so from the studio, she hastily unfolded the note and began reading.
Dear Adele,
Yesterday’s confrontation was unexpected and really horrible. I’ve been up all night turning it over in my head, trying to think of some other way it could have gone, trying to figure out what I can possibly do to take things back to how they were just two days ago, and trying to understand why I feel such all-consuming misery that I may have lost a woman I barely know (we do barely know each other, right?).
Twelve hours later and I don’t have any answers.
I’m sorry that I wasn’t up front with you about my job. I kept it to myself not out of any guilt about Propel or a willful desire to deceive, but for the simple reason that I’m not super proud of my work. I happen to be really good at spotting trends and picking out business ideas that will be profitable, and this job allows me to live in Bali and lead the life that nourishes my soul. My work doesn’t nourish my soul, but I’m not doing anything illegal or even objectively immoral. The truth is, we have the resources to take great ideas and make them big, something a lot of small companies don’t have. Most of the companies we model ourselves after would have run themselves into the ground anyway, regardless of Propel. And half the time, we just happen to come up with the same idea as a company that already exists. It’s not as though we’re pinpointing businesses to destroy them. I’ve looked into all the legal implications of this—
Here Adele had to put the note down and clench her fists to stop herself from tearing it to shreds. Yes, she’d looked through all the legal implications as well, and she knew that sure,
technically
, this was all kosher.
But that doesn’t make it right
, she wanted to scream.
—and I’m confident that Propel is not doing anything that’s beyond the pale.
All that said, I’m so sorry that one of Propel’s ventures was the cause of your company folding. It truly hurts me to hear the stories of people who have suffered as a result of our success. And the fact that it happened to you—I know that other people’s suffering is equally valid, but still—the fact that it happened to you is making me seriously question, well, everything about my professional life. I wish I could take back your pain, and the pain of all your coworkers. I’m sorry for any part I played in that.
But this is my life. I had a whole other life once. I was married and I worked at an office. One broken heart and crushed soul later, and here I am. I don’t think I could ever go back to the office life, and I don’t know of another job that would allow me to continue living this way. And, like I said, Propel isn’t the most upstanding company in the world, but it’s really not doing anything actually wrong.
Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to make up for the pain I might have caused you. You’ve quickly become important to me—surprisingly important—and I’d like to keep that, if it’s possible. I understand if it’s not.
Danny
She slowly refolded the note and looked out toward the beach. That was not the note she’d been expecting. Not in the least. She’d opened the note imagining a mea culpa followed by profuse apologies and an outpouring of emotion and a promise to shut down Propel the next day. Or, at least the first two parts. Instead she’d found a reluctant “I’m sorry but…” letter, a letter where he seemed more concerned with proving a technical point than addressing the larger moral issue or even the personal pain he’d caused her. Sure, he was sorry that she was hurting, but he didn’t seem too sorry about what he’d done. Although she hadn’t thought it possible, she felt herself becoming even angrier than she’d been before reading the note.
Again, she had to push down the impulse to shred the note. She knew herself, knew that she’d want to reread it later. Plus, if she did tear it up, she’d like to do it with Danny watching. Let him know just what she thought of his “justifications.”
“Guy’s got nerve,” she muttered to herself, then tucked the note inside her asana manual and put the manual into her bag.
Looking up, she almost gasped out loud. Where there had been nobody just a moment before, Ajuni now stood, not ten feet from her. Locking eyes with her, he raised one eyebrow in an inquiring, almost teasing, look.
“Interesting reading?” he asked.
“Nope,” she said, her voice strong and definitive, powered by the anger in her blood. “Nothing worth any mention.”
“I thought about your struggles yesterday,” he said, and her mind filled with confusion. What was he talking about? Did he know about her and Danny’s fight? How could he? “The answer can be found in where your gaze goes. You must follow your eyes to discern the source of the problem.”
At once, the foggy confusion in her head cleared. He was talking about inversions. She’d somehow completely forgotten that entire class, the class she’d been worrying about for a week. It seemed like years ago now.
“My eyes?” She said.
“You need to look where you want to go,” he said.
There he was with the puzzle talk again.
“I’m not sure I know exactly what you mean.”
“I’m sure you do. But I will show you,” he said, gesturing toward the studio.
She knew that she shouldn’t go back to the studio with him. For one thing, she didn’t want to miss breakfast—she’d just barely made it after her last strange after-class session with Ajuni. And for another, she was pretty certain that he wanted to show her more than just eye technique for headstands. Yet, she wanted to follow him. It seemed like exactly the thing to do right now, exactly what her body needed to release the consuming anger it held.
He towered over her, her eyes right in line with his pelvis, and she let her eyes dance over the bulge, knowing that he saw them pause for a millisecond. She continued her gaze up and met his eyes.
“Okay,” she said, and came to stand, her eyes now reaching his chest. The hugeness of his presence had always seemed somehow detached from a physical body, she realized, and only now did she appreciate how truly tall he was. She’d guessed six foot three before, but wouldn’t be surprised if he measured an inch or two over that. She thought of Danny’s once-impressive six-foot stature, and scoffed in her mind. Every quality associated with him had taken on a repulsive tinge.
Ajuni’s fingers grazed her arm, and she was surprised at the softness of his touch. The severity of everything else about him made the gentle sensation stand out in stark contrast. But then his fingers were gone, and he was walking toward the open studio. She followed him, feeling almost as though she were sleepwalking. The jumble of emotions inside her was difficult to identify, let alone process.
As soon as she crossed the threshold of the studio, Ajuni spun around and grabbed her, clutching her hips with both hands. She took in a sharp breath and looked up at him, her chest moving up and down visibly. This touch was decidedly not gentle, but not aggressive, either. Just…decisive, if a touch could feel decisive. Slowly, his hands began to move over her skin, back behind her to smooth over the curved mounds of her shorts. Clutching her from the rounded bottom of her ass, he pulled her toward him, her pelvis now pressed against his. She moaned softly at the sensation of his rock hard erection against her, and let her eyes lose contact with his, rolling up toward the ceiling.
“Look where you want to go,” she heard Ajuni’s voice say, and she wasn’t sure if he had actually spoken or if her mind was merely replaying his earlier words. Seemingly unrelated thoughts and images swirled through her brain, each flashing for a millisecond before melting into the next: handstands, fear, flying, heat, Ajuni’s biceps, the grass outside, sun salutations, waves crashing, Danny’s back, Kelly’s face, coconuts, rain, sweat, strong hands.
She surrendered, letting the flurry of thoughts flow past her, observing them passively, and then realized she was doing the same with her body. It moved as if without her conscious will. She’d tilted her head back, and now looked directly at Ajuni.
“Good,” he murmured, and thrust his pelvis more firmly against hers. She moaned again, but this time kept his gaze.
Ajuni’s hands moved down the sides of her thighs and then around back. He slid them down, bending slightly to move them over her ass, her upper thighs. When he reached the point just above the backs of her knees, he suddenly clutched her legs and pulled them up. She gasped, taken aback, but was surprised to feel her body reacting before her mind had even processed the movement. Supported by his hands, her legs sprung off the floor and wrapped around his waist, and her arms encircled his neck, holding on for support. She ran her fingers through his long, dark hair, now free from the tight knot he wore during practice, and was surprised to find it tangled and textured with sweat.
So he is human
, she thought vaguely.
And then they were moving, Ajuni walking with her in his arms, his face buried in her neck. With wet lips and hot breath, he covered her collarbone, her throat, her jawline in kisses. As his mouth reached the bottom of her ear, she felt her back press roughly against something. The wall. Pulling his face back to look at hers, Ajuni spoke.
“Down,” he said, the softness of the command making it more forceful than any instruction she’d heard him utter before.
Reluctantly releasing his body from her grip, she unlocked her legs and hopped down to the floor. She could feel herself pulsing with need. She wanted to reach out and press him against her again, pull him out of his pants and into her, but she stayed perfectly still, waiting for his next move. She willed him to touch her, her body crying out for the satisfaction.
He took one step toward her and stood patiently. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt his hand tickle the soft skin of her inner thigh. The touch gained pressure as it moved up, coming to press his fingers firmly into the juncture of her legs, provoking a gasp from Adele, before quickly continuing to move up. He stopped at the waistband of her shorts, and tucked the very tip of his index finger underneath the elastic.
“Down,” he repeated. Again, as if Ajuni’s commands spoke to her body and not to her brain, Adele reacted, feeling as though she was observing her own actions. She watched herself tug her little shorts off her hips and down her legs, leaving her standing in a stringy green thong. She stood still for a moment, letting Ajuni admire her, feeling a delicious power as she saw the desire in his eyes, the hungry twitching of his hands by his sides.
But then his eyes had snapped back to attention, and he gave her a quick and commanding nod, a nod she implicitly knew the meaning of. Without hesitation, she tugged her thong down and kicked it to the side.
Ajuni grabbed her again from behind, and this time she didn’t need any instruction. She wrapped her legs around him again, and let her lips come to his muscled shoulder as he pulled himself out of his pants and pressed her back against the wall. She felt the full length of his erection against her, and then he was angling back, positioning himself, and entering her. She wrapped her legs more tightly as he moved inside her, and clutched his neck to gain leverage against his thrusts. Her head looked down over his shoulder, watching his powerful ass move back and forth as he drove himself into her. The strange ethereal detachment continued, and later she wouldn’t be able to remember the physical sensation of the moment, just the image.