by Liz Fenton
“Are you okay?”
Ashley turned toward the voice belonging to a good-looking man with dark hair that fell long around his ears. His eyes were brown with flecks of gold.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize that was so loud.”
“Well, if you need to clear your head, you came to the right place,” he said as he set two blocks next to his mat. “Lyssa teaches the best classes.” He gestured toward a young woman in the front of the room who was doing a backbend. “You’ll be sigh-less in no time.” He gave Ashley a thumbs-up.
She took in his coffee-colored skin and his toned arms and legs. He looked like he could rock climb or windsurf with ease.
“How long have you been visiting?” Ashley asked.
“I’m not. I live here.” He stretched his arms over his head. “I was born in Mexico, but lived in the States until a year ago, when I came back to Tulum for a yoga retreat and never left.”
“People really do that?” Ashley asked. Something tugged at her stomach when she thought of going back home. Of facing Jason.
“People really do that,” the man repeated. “I did that. It was pretty easy, actually.”
“Why?” she asked, then backpedaled when she saw his face. “Sorry, that’s probably too personal.”
“No, no. It’s okay. I wish I had some big exciting story for you, but I don’t. I just wanted to try a different life.”
Try a different life. Ashley would have shaken her head at that idea not that long ago, but lately she found herself questioning almost every decision she’d made—except for agreeing to start BloMe, Inc. with Nat. The decision that kept her up at night the most was the one to marry Jason. What if she hadn’t? Of course, she didn’t regret having her daughters. But she’d often secretly fantasized what it might feel like to be single again. What if she did sell the company, like Natalie wanted so badly, took her half of the money, and started over somewhere? She’d promised Natalie she’d give selling more thought, but deep down she worried she’d never be able to let it go.
“Did your family come with you?” Ashley asked, glancing discreetly at his finger to see if he was wearing a ring.
“I’m not married. No kids. It’s just me. And my dog, Spencer. You might have seen him out front—the yellow Lab—he was a stray that I took in when I got here. He’s a big fan of carne asada; it helped get him back to his fighting weight.”
“Isn’t it the best?” Ashley said. “I get it all the time where I’m from—although I’m sure it’s much better here. Do you put cilantro in it?” She wrinkled her nose.
“Of course we do! They are street tacos. You can’t have them without it! Don’t tell me you’re a hater?”
“Guilty as charged. I just like my food a certain way, that’s all.”
“I can respect that, but cilantro, really?”
“The struggle is real,” she said, grinning.
“Where are you from?”
“SoCal.”
“What part?”
“LA—Santa Monica. Ever been?”
He shook his head. “Never been to California, if you can believe that. When I was in the States I was in Texas, mostly. Austin.”
“Well, I guess now that you’re living here, why would you go anywhere else?” Ashley smiled, picturing her house nestled on a hill that bordered the Pacific Palisades. It was large—over seven thousand square feet. Did they really need that much space? She rarely entertained. She didn’t utilize the formal dining room. The chef’s pantry. When she was home, which wasn’t often, she was in one of three places: her bedroom, the balcony off her bedroom, or the kitchen. Her girls were the same—hibernating in their rooms or going down to graze the refrigerator and pantry. Ashley’s meager attempts to draw them into conversation often fell flat. And she didn’t see much of Jason when he was home—especially not lately. She found it easier to avoid him; if they didn’t communicate, there was less chance they’d fight.
“You’re zoning out over there,” the man said.
“Oh, sorry,” Ashley said. “I was just thinking about home.”
“All good things, I hope?”
“I’m not so sure right now.” Ashley surprised herself by telling this perfect stranger the truth. But there was something about his warm eyes that invited her to share. She looked over to where Natalie and Lauren had set up their mats—side by side toward the front of the room. Sometimes it was easier to talk to people who didn’t know anything about you.
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Partly, yes. And also for them.” Ashley pointed to Natalie and Lauren. She lowered her voice. “We’ve been friends for a long time, but things are kind of in flux. And when I read about Tulum, about the energy, the spirituality, it seemed like the perfect place.”
“You chose very wisely. It is believed that sixty-six million years ago, an asteroid struck right here in Tulum. It produced an intense energy that is still here and has created a magical aura. There is so much opportunity to look within and to find the answers you seek. They are so much clearer down here.”
“Wow, that’s crazy about the asteroid. I had no idea.”
“You will see. You will feel so much while you’re here. And if you allow your mind to be still, the answers will come.”
“I hope you’re right. I need clarity. I need a sign that will point me in the right direction. Not just with my home life and my friends, but also my work life.” Ashley stopped herself. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”
“What do you do for work?”
“My friend, the redhead.” Natalie nodded in Nat’s direction. “She and I own a company called BloMe.” She paused, letting the name register.
He smirked, but didn’t comment.
“We sell hot brushes.”
“What are hot brushes?”
Ashley looked at his hair—hanging over his eyes, but she still guessed he never used a blow-dryer. “Nothing you’d ever use!”
“Is that a compliment?” His tone was light.
“Yes. Our target audience is female.”
“I’m Marco.” He held out his hand.
“Ashley,” she said, shaking it. It was strong and warm. She held on for a beat longer.
“Well, Ashley, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m also a business owner.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
“I own a smoothie bowl place down the road. It’s called Tropical Kiss.”
“Awesome. Can I ask you something then, business owner to business owner?”
“Sure,” Marco said, doing a forward fold over his outstretched legs.
“If someone offered you a lot of money to buy it, would you sell?”
Marco looked at Ashley for a few moments. “I would.”
“Why?”
“Because everything must end—even the good things. I would see it as a sign that it was time for me to move on.”
“Really? You think it’s that simple?” Ashley asked, perplexed. Wondering whether she was missing something when it came to thinking about selling the company. Was she overlooking an opportunity?
Marco adjusted his yoga mat. “Down here it is. It’s easier to see the universe’s will. Maybe not so much in LA—too many distractions.”
Ashley contemplated the breakneck speed with which she lived her life. How all her thoughts seemed to merge together into a giant knot that seemed impossible to untangle. She’d always reasoned it was just who she was, but what if it was her environment?
“But the universe hasn’t sent anyone to purchase my store, so for now I’m still the owner. Bring your friends by after class, and I’ll make you each an amazing smoothie bowl. On the house. If my blending skills can’t bring you and your friends closer again, I’m not sure what can.” He smiled easily, like it was something he did often.
Ashley felt that familiar buzzing deep inside her when a new distraction came into focus. She was often restless, especially lately. It could be a TV show she’d binge-watch or a genre of books she’d r
ead until she grew sick of it. Anything she could throw herself into so she could temporarily forget how much pain she was often in. Over the last year she’d debated having an affair. There had certainly been opportunities, yet no matter how terrible Jason had been to her, she couldn’t justify it. But she’d come here to get some space from her relationship—did that mean she should explore what it would feel like to be with someone else?
“Think of the life we could have with that money, Ash,” Jason had said to her the night before she left for Tulum. He’d stepped into her dressing room and sat on a velvet bench, his large torso dwarfing it. His gray eyes looked tired as he ran his fingers through his black hair speckled with gray. The gray was new—just within the last six months. Ashley didn’t think it was a coincidence that it had sprouted about the same time his investors had started complaining about the restaurant’s terrible numbers. It hadn’t been profitable in almost a year.
“I guess I’m just surprised Natalie is so willing to walk away from the company. From me,” Ashley said—her stomach had dropped when she realized how excited Natalie was to sell. To abandon something that had become the backbone of their friendship.
“Maybe you’ve finally worn her out, Ash. She’s probably dying to get away.”
His comment stung, but she kept her face neutral. “That isn’t true, and you know it.”
Jason shook his head and let out a cold laugh. “You’ve been taking advantage of your friendship with her for years. Working her to death—”
“We both work hard because we love this company,” Ashley interjected, feeling her cheeks grow red. “I’m not her boss.”
“You sure act like it.”
“What?”
“I’ve heard her try to talk to you about how tired she is. At the barbecue she had a couple of weeks ago, she said she was burned out. And you know what you said?”
Ashley did know what she’d said, but she shook her head anyway.
“That she should take a spa day.” Jason sneered. “You love this company, Ash. It borders on unhealthy. The only difference? It doesn’t really bother me when you’re gone all those hours. But Ben, he gives a shit.”
“Wow, that was harsh,” Ashley said. And even though she knew they were well past the point of missing each other or caring if they went to sleep alone, it still hurt.
“It’s not like you don’t feel the same way.” He gave her a look, challenging her to argue. “Natalie wants more in her life.”
Ashley’s body tensed. “How the hell do you know that?”
“How the hell do you not know that? It’s fucking obvious to everyone except the one person who claims to be her best friend!” Jason gave her a look of something Ashley could only describe as disgust. “Maybe it’s time you stopped being so selfish.”
Even though she understood he was being cruel, there was some truth to his words. That Natalie struggled to find the balance between BloMe and the rest of her life. And Ashley didn’t. Because it wasn’t like she had a happy or productive marriage to worry about. And her daughters were so busy with a billion activities, they hardly noticed when she wasn’t home. At least that’s what Ashley told herself. So why, just because Natalie needed more family time, did it mean they had to sell the company?
She thought about the things she wanted moving forward. A life without Jason, without the constant arguing, would be at the very top of the list. Hannah and Abby were the two things that kept her from leaving—her love for them making her feel helpless. But was she really doing them any favors by remaining married to a man who felt he hadn’t reached his true potential, who was enraged that his wife had eclipsed his dreams by succeeding in her own?
Jason’s intolerance of Ashley hadn’t happened overnight—in the beginning it had been a condescending remark here, a dagger stare there, but it eventually took on a distinct shape.
“Why do I have to sell my company for everyone else to have the life they want? Including you.” Ashley pulled a bathing suit cover-up off the hanger and held it. “Because your restaurant is bleeding money?” She watched as his face lost some color. “Oh, you thought I didn’t know?”
Jason started to say something, but Ashley cut him off. “You want me to sell something very successful—arguably on the edge of even greater success—and bail you out. Again.” She paused to let her words sink in. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken her money. She’d given him a hundred grand a few years ago, to save his restaurant. He’d gone over budget on a remodel and wasn’t sure how he was going to pay the contractors and the staff. And of course he’d never recouped the money. Because he couldn’t. He’d never climbed out of the red again.
“You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met, Ash. You know what? Don’t sell. Maybe we should get divorced, finally. This isn’t working and hasn’t been for a while. Then you’ll really know what losing your money feels like. Or half of it, anyway. You can just work yourself to death and end up alone. Married to that fucking company of yours.”
She’d looked away and said nothing. Because he wasn’t completely wrong. She’d contemplated more than once that she loved BloMe much more than she loved her husband. She would pretty much do anything to protect it.
Ashley took in Marco’s relaxed posture, his open demeanor. “A smoothie bowl sounds delicious,” she finally said. “Do you have dairy free?” She cracked a smile.
Marco leaned across his mat. “I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but there is something about you. You have an amazing energy—it shines through your beautiful brown eyes. I can just tell, you are a very good person, even if you don’t like cilantro,” he said, smiling at his own joke. “Sorry, is that too forward?”
Ashley grinned. “Not at all. And thank you for saying that. Although I’m not sure many people would agree with you,” she said, directing a look at Lauren.
Marco looked perplexed. “What? Why?” He leaned even closer. “I have to tell you; I am rarely wrong about these things. People often lie, but their energies are the universe’s way of knowing the truth.”
“Well, in that case, I have a few people I’d like you to lay that wisdom upon,” Ashley said, laughing. She couldn’t tell if he was full of shit or not. But his faith in her character was comforting.
“It would be my pleasure,” he said as the class began and he settled into his Downward-Facing Dog easily.
Ashley watched him for a moment before she joined, contemplating how he’d known the exact words she’d needed to hear.
CHAPTER NINE
THREE DAYS BEFORE
LAUREN
The yoga teacher took her position in front of the class. Lauren tried to pay attention to her instructions, but she couldn’t stop watching Ashley and the man she was talking to. He was ruggedly handsome, his dark hair swept across his forehead, his sculpted jaw covered in stubble. Ashley leaned toward him and flipped her hair, her dark-gray Lululemon yoga pants hugging her in all the right places. Lauren strained to hear their conversation—but she couldn’t make out any words. Just laughter.
Lauren had always marveled at Ashley’s ability to draw people to her without even trying. She’d noticed the man watching Ashley before they spoke. She saw him choose the spot next to her, rolling out his mat as he kept one eye on her. She knew the man hadn’t noticed Ashley only because she was classically beautiful, but also because of the energy she emitted.
She’d been in awe at the first frat party Ashley had taken her to, watching as people came up to her one after the next, all talking as if they were her best friend. Lauren had felt initially out of place as she glanced around at the students playing beer pong, rings from the bottom of the Solo cups covering the surface of the Ping-Pong table. She’d hunched her shoulders slightly as she realized how differently she was dressed from the other girls, all wearing high-waisted jeans and bodysuit tops, Lauren in a flannel shirt and leggings. But as the night went on, Lauren started to feel better. Almost as if Ashley’s self-assuredness were rubb
ing off on her. She’d always felt it was one of Ashley’s best qualities. But today, widowed and forty, Lauren was envious. She couldn’t make a connection with a man unless she was buzzed and he was a stranger—like José. (She still wasn’t sure what she was going to do when she saw him next—something she hadn’t considered when she’d pulled him into her hotel room.) But usually her sexual needs were met by men she found on Tinder, her inhibitions blunted by the ability to simply swipe and type. To connect with another person physically—bodies intertwined, chests pressed together, limbs locked. She feared if she started an actual relationship, she’d lose control again. In bed was the only place she felt like she was in charge. She didn’t want to give that up.
“Take a deep breath in through your nose, and let it out through your nose,” the instructor said. She was a lithe redhead and sat cross-legged in front of them. Lauren tugged at her loose-fitting top, thankful it was covering the extra weight she’d gained around her middle since Geoff died. Her small frame didn’t leave many places for her to hide the results of her binge drinking. Calorie-rich red wine had been her choice for many months. She spied Ashley’s toned body as she glanced over at her again, her posture perfect as she stood at the head of her mat. Lauren listened to the instructor’s smooth voice as she asked them to focus on their intention for the hour.
Lauren already knew what hers should be: forgiveness. Her therapist had told her that. She should come on this trip so she could forgive and hopefully be forgiven.
Last night, after the mezcal margaritas on the beach, she was sure she could do it. In fact, she’d almost turned to Ashley and said it. But in the end she’d held her tongue, not wanting to have the conversation in front of Natalie. Not wanting her to be a part of it. Wanting it to be something she and Ashley shared privately.
But there was no such thing as something special between her and Ashley.
Years ago, Ashley had called Lauren and said she had an extra ticket to Pearl Jam. Did Lauren want to go? Hell, yeah, she did. Never thinking to ask why Ashley had that ticket. They’d drunk endless draft beers and danced next to their seats to “Jeremy” and “Alive.” Months later Natalie casually mentioned she and Ashley had had a fight the night before and that was why she hadn’t gone. Lauren’s heart had sunk. Would she always be second choice?
