The Sleeping Serpent: A woman's struggle to break an obsessive bond with her yoga master

by Luna Saint Claire

  Olivia cried, “Then I won’t go! I’ll stay here—with you. I’ll get the money for the center.” Her heart sank when his demeanor only got colder.

  His eyes narrowed to mere slits, but the flashing of the yellow was like bolts of lightning.

  Olivia threw her arms around him, sobbing hard. She had trouble getting the words out between breaths. “I’m sorry! I won’t leave you. Never…I promise.”

  His mouth distorted as he tried to form the words, “Olivia…If you loved me you would have already asked for the money. I can’t trust you again.”

  She clung harder, but he peeled her off and she reached out to him, grasping at his shirt. When he pushed her away, she stumbled backward, but caught herself before falling. She pleaded in anguish, “Nico! Please…I don’t understand!”

  His voice was flat. “You already showed your true self, Olivia. You only used me to sing at La Forza—to make a demo. Without me, you’d still be waitressing across the street. Go away.”

  Olivia’s panic soared and her voice became shrill. “That’s not true!”

  He snapped back, “You’re a using little slut! You just want me because you can’t get enough of my dick. I’m the best fuck you’ll ever have. Now, get the hell away from me—before I hurt you!”

  As he spun on his heels and headed toward the door, she ran after him, crying out, “Why are you saying these things? I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

  He reeled around, his face red and veins in his forehead bulging, eyes cold and dark. Shaking her by the shoulders with both hands, he spit, “Leave me alone.” He shook her once more and Olivia fell backward, hitting her tailbone hard on the sidewalk. She cried out in pain.

  Ignoring her, Nico turned away and marched inside without looking back, while he texted a message on his phone.

  Still sobbing, hiccupping with each breath, Olivia got up and went to sit in her car, believing he would come back out and they would make up. He would apologize and say he overreacted…that he loved her, and knew she loved him, too. Everything would turn out fine. They would exchange sexy e-mails during the week like they did when he was in Buenos Aires and make passionate love on the weekends. She sat in the car with her head against the steering wheel, sobbing. After a few minutes, she texted him:

  PLEASE. Come out and talk to me!!!

  She waited a minute, then texted again:

  I love u and believe in u!!! PLEASE BELIEVE IN ME! We can make it work!!!

  She waited. He didn’t answer the text. She called. It went straight to voice mail. She texted again:

  How could u do this to me??!!! I LOVE YOU!!!! I WANT US! I shouldn’t have to choose between two things that MAKE ME HAPPY! I thought u would be happy for me…instead you’re KILLING ME!

  She waited. But Nico never answered—and he never came back out.

  8

  The Wardrobe Department buzzed with talent coming in for fittings, and there were racks of clothes everywhere. Once she had a second to breathe, Luna saw she had missed three calls from Nico, and when he called the fourth time, she felt that familiar flutter. But since she was in the middle of a fitting, she had to let it go to voice mail.

  At the end of the day, when she and Sam were the only ones left, Nico called again. Before she could even say hello, he barked at her, “Why haven’t you answered, Luna? I called a hundred times!”

  “I’m sorry, Nico. It was a madhouse all day. I didn’t have a minute alone.”

  Nico snapped back, “I don’t care what you’re doing, Luna. When I call, you answer! Is that understood?”

  Luna didn’t want an argument, so simply answered, “I’ll try, Nico.”

  That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, however. “There is no try, Luna. Just do it.”

  He seemed more agitated than usual, so she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m very upset. Olivia’s leaving.”

  “What do you mean leaving?” Luna was surprised.

  “Just what I said,” he barked. “She got into some bullshit program with the San Francisco Opera—thanks to me getting her that job at La Forza,” he added bitterly.

  Excusing his irascibility, Luna attempted to console him. “Nico, it’s not that far. You can visit her. It’s a great opportunity for her. Think of her career.”

  “You’re an idiot! I taught her everything. She’s mine, and now she’ll go and fuck everyone in San Francisco.”

  With that, her phone beeped, indicating he was gone. She thought about calling him back, but decided to let him cool down instead.

  On her way home from work, she stopped at Amaru to offer Nico some comfort. The door to the apartment was open, and she walked in, calling out his name. He greeted her casually, wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist and a mop of wet hair. Momentarily uncomfortable, Luna turned her back to him. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be in the shower.”

  “Don’t be silly. I always want you around.”

  She was relieved he had, indeed, calmed down and was actually being sweet. Deliberately looking her up and down, his eyes landed on her cleavage. She feigned shyness. “Nico, stop it. You embarrass me!”

  He replied flirtatiously, “Do you go to work like that and flash your tits at everyone all day?” Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned, calling over his shoulder, “You want a glass of wine?”

  Luna trailed along behind him. “Sure, if you’re having one.”

  Handing her a glass, he raised his in a toast, “Los amigos son como las estrellas. No los ves siempre, pero siempre están allí.”

  “That sounds beautiful, Nico. What does it mean?”

  He translated slowly, gazing deeply into her eyes. “Friends are like stars. You cannot always see them, but they are always there.”

  Thinking how Olivia was leaving him, Luna whispered, “I won’t leave you, Nico, ever. I promise.”

  After a few glasses of wine, Nico lamented, “She’s not who I thought she was. I’ll never find anyone who really cares about me.”

  Luna nodded sympathetically. With nothing to say, she simply took a sip of her wine.

  In high spirits, Nico spouted, “Luna, did you see ‘LA Social’ in Los Angeles Magazine today? There’s a picture of me with Erin Whelan. They call me the go to yoga guru! My phone has been ringing all day!”

  Just the sound of Erin’s name made Luna’s skin crawl, but it was good news for Nico and a welcome distraction from the break with Olivia. She mustered some enthusiasm. “That’s great, Nico! I’m so happy for you!” She thought to herself that of course his phone was ringing off the hook, anyone who saw what he looked like would want to come to his studio.

  “Erin says I need a press kit immediately, and she booked a photo shoot for me. You have to come with me tomorrow.” The words tumbled out.

  Luna assessed the situation; she wouldn’t want to bump into Erin.

  “Who’s the photographer?”

  “Let me look, Erin wrote it down. Here it is. Marcus Vander.”

  Luna wasn’t surprised. Marcus was a superstar, but also in Erin’s pocket. Certainly, Erin wouldn’t actually attend to watch her boy toy posing for the camera. “Sure, Nico. Let me know what time, and I’ll pick you up so we can go together. Did she tell you what to wear?”

  “She told me to look hot.”

  She laughed. “Well, that’ll be easy!”

  When she picked Nico up at seven the next morning, he looked heart stopping. After a few pictures of him in tight jeans and leather jacket with no shirt, the shoot progressed until Nico was practically naked. Luna had expected as much, since Marcus was well known for shooting the world’s male and female supermodels as scantily clad as possible.

  Later that day, Luna was focused on style boards when she heard a light tap on the door. Looking up, she saw Sofia standing in the doorway and motioned for her to come in.

  “Hey. I just stopped in to say hi and let you know that Nico emailed me some of the shots from this morning. They’re amazing
!”

  “Great. I figured they would be.”

  Sofia gushed, “Guess what? Lindsey, my publicist friend in New York, got Harper’s Bazaar and LA Magazine to run the article I wrote about Nico! Isn’t that awesome? Now I can send these photos along. He looks so hot!”

  “Fantastic. By the way, did you see the shot of Erin and Nico in the social section?”

  They both rolled their eyes.

  Twisting golden locks around her finger repeatedly, Sofia tentatively asked, “So what do you think is up with them?”

  Luna shrugged. “You know Erin’s reputation. If she can party with him, then she will. He’s a good-looking accessory, but she’s old enough to be his mother.”

  Sofia bit her lower lip. “Yuck. Gross.”

  They both chuckled, then Sofia brightened. “By the way, I’m having a get together on Sunday. It’s at my house in Malibu at two. I’d love for you and Tyler to be there.”

  “Of course. Sounds great!”

  “Don’t forget your swimsuits.” Then, with a sweet wave of her hand, Sofia disappeared down the hallway.

  Luna chose a white crocheted sundress and nude suede thong sandals, which gave her the appearance of being barefoot—the perfect look for a Sunday pool party in Malibu. Instead of silver hoops, she wore real feather earrings and a collection of beaded bracelets. She’d applied Moroccanoil to her long chestnut-brown hair, and it fell, silky smooth, around her shoulders.

  Passing Tyler’s desk, she reminded him, “Don’t forget, we’ve got the party at Sofia’s today.”

  He replied grumpily, “I’ve got a ton of work to do. Do you really need me to go with you?”

  She gave him a sideways look. “Yes, please, Tyler. It’s important to me. A lot of the crew and my friends will be there.”

  He grumbled, so she added, “Besides, you know everyone from work loves talking to you.”

  When he pulled out a pair of traditional khakis and a white polo shirt, Luna directed him to wear a new pair of navy shorts instead. “You have great legs, Ty. You should show them off. Besides, it’s a pool party.”

  By the time they arrived, the beach house was already packed with a diverse group of Sofia’s friends and work colleagues. When Luna spotted Nico, she noticed he wore conservative pinstriped swim trunks, although he was bare chested with just the Om pendant laying on his bronzed skin. Greeting Luna with the double-cheek kiss she’d adopted, Sofia complimented her sundress. Handing Sofia a chilled bottle of champagne, Luna admired her Dolce & Gabbana lace corset top paired with white skinny jeans and sky-high white Saint Laurent platforms.

  Luna moved quickly toward Nico. His silken voice caressed, “You look lovely today, Luna.” Discreetly, his eyes covered her admiringly before he turned his back on her to shake Tyler’s hand. “Good to see you, Tyler. Luna tells me you’re writing a book; what’s it about?”

  Tyler shrugged. “It’s a textbook…philosophy of religion.”

  “Not exactly a best seller, huh?”

  “No, not exactly. I’ve written textbooks before; it’s expected of me,” Tyler responded impassively.

  “I’m going to write a book on energy medicine and the healing ceremonies I learned from the paqos.”

  “Really? That’s very interesting.”

  Nico beamed. “Do you ever think of writing something more mainstream? You know, for the public?”

  Warming up, Tyler smiled. “Actually, I’ve already planned to do that. After this textbook is finished, I’m going to take some of my blog material and write a book about karma and reincarnation.”

  Intrigued, Nico remarked, “I believe in karma. I’d love to sit and talk with you about that some time. You know, I grew up Catholic, but I lived in India for years.”

  “I’d like that, and I’d love to hear more about your stay with the Q’ero.”

  Thrilled by both Nico’s erotically suggestive once over and seeing the two men in her life bonding, Luna interrupted, “I’m going to leave you two to chat while I make the rounds.” Snatching a glass of champagne from a server, she peeked over her shoulder in time to see Nico’s eyes following her as she wove her way through the guests on the pool deck overlooking the ocean. Rumor had it that Sofia’s dad, a big New York attorney, represented Italian mobsters, so no one questioned how she could afford this house. Some of the other writers from the show were in the living room, and stopping to speak with them, Luna swapped her empty glass for a full one when a server came by.

  Before heading back out to the pool, she needed to find the bathroom and ended up walking through Sofia’s bedroom. A four-poster bed of whitewashed wrought iron, with a white French matelassé coverlet and pillow shams, reflected Sofia’s simple but elegant style perfectly. Above the bed hung a Longhorn steer skull encrusted with turquoise stones. The bathroom was natural stone with a glass-enclosed walk-in shower and steam room, the outside wall facing the ocean. Luna froze in front of the vanity when she saw Nico’s toiletries sitting on the counter. Quickly and quietly closing the bathroom door, she sat down on the toilet with her face against the cool stone wall and cried softly. Then, berating herself, she reasoned Sofia was perfect for him. She was young, smart, and talented. Armed with her new-found knowledge, she dried her eyes and checked herself in the mirror, then headed back out to the pool to find Tyler.

  Luna stood alone by the deck railing watching the sinking sun. Tyler was in the house, talking with some other guests he knew from UCLA. Feeling a nice buzz from the champagne—not drunk, but with just a pleasant sensation of well-being—she listened to the sound of the waves blending with Faith Hill’s stirring voice singing “Breathe.” Somewhere, she faintly heard Nico’s voice in the background calling to her. Looking over her shoulder toward the pool, she saw him in the water, propped up on the ledge near her.

  “Can you take my sunglasses from me and put them on the chair?” He shook his head and flipped his hair back; a spray of water droplets glistened in the golden late afternoon sunlight.

  Luna walked to the edge of the pool and bent down to take the sunglasses from him. As she leaned over, Nico grasped her hand and pulled her in, fully clothed—shoes and all. Tipsy from the champagne, she laughed when she came up for air, her hair plastered to her face.

  “Nico!” she squealed, feigning outrage. “How could you!?” Quickly, she glanced around at the guests. Most hadn’t noticed, and the few nearby laughed with her. Deciding it was all in fun, she swam with him across the pool, allowing him to playfully sweep her around, holding her tightly. Suddenly, he dove underwater and slid his hands under her dress and up her legs, catching her by surprise.

  Grabbing him around his broad shoulders, she pushed him away. “Nico, everyone’s looking. Cut it out!” She laughed as she swam to the ladder. Luckily the sun was setting, but a wet white dress was still quite revealing, so she darted into the sauna to dry off.

  Following her, Nico parked himself on the hot redwood bench. “You look very sexy all wet. You know that, right?” He smiled at her, the yellow flecks in his eyes glittering. His wet hair clung to his neck, and the wayward lock over his eye was slowly dripping one bead of water at a time past his cheek to land on the ground.

  Following one droplet as it fell, Luna saw Nico’s wet shorts clinging to his powerful thighs. Still breathless, she gathered herself together and scolded, “Now, just stop it, Nico. Tyler will be looking for me.”

  Wistfully, Nico tucked a thick strand of wet hair behind her ear, then disappeared back toward the pool.

  When Sofia appeared in the doorway, Nico barely looked up from the computer before snapping, “Where have you been? I’m going crazy here! I have too much to do, and this is not how I should be spending my time.”

  “It’s OK, Nico. I’m here now,” she said, shifting into calming mode. “Remember, I have to work, too.”

  He retorted, “No, you don’t. You need to help me!”

  Since the Harper’s Bazaar article had come out, Nico had been deluged with e-mails from a
ll over the country. Ignoring his caustic outburst, she threw her arm over his shoulder, and jested, “I guess I never should have gotten you all that publicity, huh?”

  Nico flared, “Don’t be fresh to me. Of course I needed those articles! People need to know about me.”

  She’d forgotten how he lost all sense of humor when he was anxious. She reassured him, “I love helping you, Nico. You’re amazing, and you helped me so much. My stomach never hurts anymore.” She paused and looked closely at him. “Don’t you see? I admire you more than anyone.”

  “Yeah, yeah…enough talk. Just take over this bullshit.”

  Though he was still snippy, she could hear in his voice that her presence and adoration had pulled him off the ledge. She slid the laptop over to begin answering e-mails and adding appointments to his calendar. These kinds of tasks were easy for her, but he took them as a personal affront. Sitting in the chair next to her, he kept his face in his phone and grumbled in Spanish while texting. Although it was annoying to Sofia, at least he wasn’t interfering with the work she was doing. She knew that girl Olivia had upset him. Even though she’d moved to San Francisco, she kept messaging him. Sofia figured she’d work on promoting Nico, do all these tasks to help him, give him the keys to her beach house and car, which he loved, and he’d soon forget all about Olivia.

  She had made reservations for a late-night supper at Providence on Melrose, so after finishing his office work, she announced she was taking him out to celebrate.

  Nico scowled. “What do I have to celebrate? That Bazaar article has been nothing but a pain in the ass. Most of these people writing me aren’t even from L.A. Why are they writing?”

  “People write to celebrities all the time. They’re hoping for an answer.”

  “Well, that doesn’t pay the bills.”

  “Nico, between Bazaar and the nomination for Going My Way from the Writers Guild, I think we have a lot to celebrate. Why don’t you get dressed while I freshen up? Besides, I haven’t eaten all day and I’m starving.”

  While Nico was changing, she added a fresh coat of red lipstick—the color Taylor Swift wears—and ran her fingers through her lush blonde mane. Nico soon reappeared, looking deliciously hot in black overdyed Diesel jeans and a tight black Armani linen sweater. He ran some product through his hair, pushing it off his face, but allowed that errant coil to fall forward on its own. A five o’clock shadow added more sex appeal to his strong masculine jawline.