Page 16 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

Serena raised an eyebrow, surprised despite herself. She'd expected vague certifications from dubious online programs, not legitimate credentials. "And what brings someone with a Stanford degree to play beach therapist?"

Something flickered in Lila's eyes, a brief shadow quickly masked by professional composure. "The same thing that brings most people to turning points. Life showed me I needed a different path."

"How delightfully vague," Serena commented, her tone deliberately dismissive as she picked up the wellness plan. Her eyes scanned the document, cataloging phrases like "mindfulness practice" and "emotional integration" with increasing skepticism.

"This is remarkably lacking in measurable outcomes," she noted, setting the clipboard down. "How exactly do you quantify success in your... field?"

"Not everything valuable can be measured in quarterly reports." Lila leaned forward slightly, her presence somehow filling the space between them without being imposing. "But if you prefer metrics, we track sleep quality, cortisol levels, cognitive function, and subjective wellbeing scores."

Serena's mouth twitched. The woman clearly knew how to speak to executives.

"And what's your proposed methodology for these improvements?" She gestured toward the clipboard. "Chanting? Crystal healing? Talking to trees?"

Lila smiled, unfazed by the sarcasm. "Nothing that esoteric. We start with evidence-based practices: regulated breathing techniques that affect your autonomic nervous system, movement patterns that release physical tension, and mindfulness exercises that improve cognitive function." She reached for the teapot, refilling her cup with a steady hand. "Would you like to try a simple demonstration?"

"I hardly think?—"

"Thirty seconds," Lila interrupted gently. "If it's useless, you've lost half a minute. A reasonable investment to validate or disprove a hypothesis, wouldn't you say?"

Serena narrowed her eyes, recognizing the subtle challenge couched in scientific terminology. This Lila Skye with her sparkling green eyes and enchanting breasts was cleverer than she'd initially given her credit for.

"Thirty seconds," she agreed coldly.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath," Lila instructed, her voice shifting to a calmer, steadier cadence.

"I'm not closing my eyes," Serena countered immediately.

Lila nodded, adapting without missing a beat. "That's fine. Focus on a fixed point then, and breathe in for a count of four."

Reluctantly, Serena drew in a breath, fixing her gaze on a point beyond Lila's shoulder where the ocean met the horizon.

"Hold for two counts," Lila continued, "and exhale for six."

The simple pattern shouldn't have had any effect. It was just breathing, for god's sake, something Serena had managed successfully for forty-nine years without instruction. Yet as she followed the counts, something shifted. The constant tension in her shoulders—so familiar she'd stopped noticing it years ago—eased fractionally.

"Again," Lila said softly.

Serena complied, irritated by her own cooperation yet unwilling to break the pattern now that she'd started. The second breath went deeper, reaching parts of her lungs that felt strangely underused.

By the fourth breath, a curious lightness spread through her chest, accompanied by a momentary wave of dizziness that caught her off guard. She gripped the chair's armrest, an uncharacteristic display of physical reaction that she immediately regretted.

"That's normal," Lila assured her. "Your brain is getting more oxygen than it's accustomed to."

Serena fixed her gaze back on Lila, fighting the unfamiliar sensation. "Your thirty seconds are up."

"So they are." Lila made no comment about the slight color that had risen to Serena's cheeks or the white-knuckled grip she still maintained on the armrest. "What did you notice?"

"That breathing is inefficient when artificially slowed," Serena replied, reaching for her water rather than the tea. She needed to regain equilibrium without acknowledging she'd lost it in the first place.

"Interesting observation," Lila said, making a note on her clipboard. "Most people report the opposite. But everyone's experience is different."

The lack of argument was somehow more disarming than contention would have been. Serena had built her career on detecting and dismantling opposition. This calm acceptance left her with nothing to push against.

The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the terrace as a gentle breeze carried the scent of salt and flowers. Despite herself, Serena noticed the changing quality of light, the way it burnished everything with warmth that would have made for stunning photographs—had she been the type to waste time on such frivolities.

"I've outlined a suggested schedule," Lila continued, indicating the clipboard. "Including sunrise yoga tomorrow morning, if you're willing to try."

"I don't do yoga," Serena stated flatly.

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