Page 42 of Finding Lord Landry

“Where are you?”

“London. I’m… I’m with Landry.”

“Ahh. Good.Good.”

“Not good. But safe. Sort of.” I let out a frustrated breath. “It’s a long story. Look, I don’t know if Mom and Dad heard about this on the news?—”

“Don’t worry about that,” she interrupted. “This is probably the silver lining of them being too frugal to spring for the Wi-Fi package on the ship.”

I laughed, but it came out creaky.

“Aw. You sound so tired, honeybunch. Maybe you need a vacation from your vacation now.”

I could hear the teasing smile in her voice. “That’s an understatement. But I think I’d prefer to get back to work.”

“You and your work,” she scoffed. “Someday, you’ll look around and wonder why the fax machine doesn’t love you back.”

I snickered. “I won’t wonder. I’ll know it’s because the fax machine has been dead lo, these many years. May it rest in peace.”

She gave a softhmph. “Fine. The Xerox machine, then. You get my point.”

“If your point is that you haven’t been in an office since 1986?—”

“You said you would let me fix you up with a nice man when you returned from your retreat, Kenji.”

I blew out a breath. “That’s the last thing I need right now.”

“So you say. When are you coming home? Agatha next door says her nephew lives in Brooklyn and would like to take you to dinner at a place that has live jazz music. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did sound nice. More than that, it sounded normal.

“I should be home in a couple of days. I’ll let you know when I get back, and maybe you can give Agatha’s nephew my number.” In the meantime, I would make sure not to answer any unknown calls.

“I’m glad you’re safe, sweetheart.”

After the call ended, I lay back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. It was made up of warm wooden panels with intricate carvings. My headache lingered, so I eventually got up and made my way to the bathroom sink to fill a glass with water.

I drank as much as I could stomach while eying the deep bathtub. It was too tempting to pass up. While I waited for it to fill, I poked through the luxury toiletries displayed in a nearby wooden box and found a Molton Brown bath oil.

Within a few minutes, I was sinking gratefully into the warm, fragrant water, safe from the dreary winter day outside and well on my way to blocking out the reality of my current situation.

I focused on regulating my breathing and beginning a meditation. Chaska’s words ran through my memory.

Close your eyes and settle into the present moment. Feel the ground beneath you, steady and supportive, holding you with care. Take a deep breath in, drawing in peace and clarity, and let it flow out slowly, releasing all tension and worry. With each breath, allow your body to soften, your mind to quiet, and your heart to open. Be here, now. This is your sanctuary, your time to simply be.

My conscious mind fought me for several long minutes, repeating the ludicrous statements the paparazzi had shouted at the airport and reminding me of Landry’s shocking reveal. I wanted to rage, to host entire arguments in my head with Landry, but I hadn’t spent the past few weeks at Chaska’s retreat without learning the power of meditation.

I needed a clear head before I could tackle this situation, and there was no better way of clearing it than meditation in a warm bath.

Within moments, I was relaxed to the point of sleep. I didn’t even realize I was dozing until Landry’s voice startled me awake.

“Kenji? Fuck! Kenji, wake up. Are you okay? Fuck!”

I woke up to the sensation of being pulled out of lukewarm water and banging my elbow against the old cast-iron tub. Landry lost his grip on one of my arms when I flailed. Water splashed over the floor and wall as I scrambled to keep from slipping.

By the time I was safely on my feet on the bathmat, dripping water everywhere, my heart raced, and any benefits I’d received from the meditation had been washed clean away.

“What the fuck, Landry!” I snapped, knowing full well he’d done the right thing in waking me up.

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