Page 24 of Todd
With that cryptic statement, Casper headed inside, leaving Todd and Cory alone with the gathering darkness.
“You know… he’s kind of scary,” Cory said, breaking the tension.
Todd chuckled and nodded. Then he let out a long sigh and continued. “I thought maybe Logan would frown on the situation. I didn’t want anything to make life harder for her, especially when she was just starting out.”
“Logan doesn’t give a damn about fraternization,” Cory replied. “Hell, he married Vivian, and we were all around when he met her during a mission. Same thing with Landon. He met Noel while they were working together. Even our newest guy, Tyler, is engaged to Justice, and she’s contracted to work with LSIMT regularly.”
The words hit Todd like hammer blows, each one driving home the magnitude of his mistake. “So you’re saying?—”
“I’m saying Logan wouldn’t have cared if you two had gotten together. Still wouldn’t care, for that matter.” Cory stood and looked down at Todd with something that might have been pity. “But I think your window may have passed, brother. You’ve spent so long building this careful workplace friendship that I’m not sure she’d ever be willing to risk anything else.”
Todd felt an ache deep inside his chest.
“If you want more,” Cory continued, his voice gentle but firm, “then you need to go for it. Maybe she’s in the same place you are, just waiting for you to be brave enough to take the first step. But one thing’s for sure—you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
With that piece of advice hanging in the evening air, Cory followed Casper inside, leaving Todd alone with his thoughts and the vast Montana sky.
He stayed on that porch until full darkness fell and the stars appeared in brilliant profusion overhead, dotting the endless black. Somewhere out there, hundreds of miles away, Sadie was probably looking up at these same stars. Was she thinking of him? Did she ever wonder what might have been between them?
The questions haunted him as they had every night since he’d met her, but tonight they felt different somehow. Tonight, they felt like possibilities rather than regrets.
Maybe Cory was right. Perhaps their time hadn’t passed completely. Maybe, if he could find the courage that had failed him so catastrophically that first day, there was still a chance to build something beautiful from the ashes of his mistakes.
13
That evening, Sadie found herself seated at a small table in the spa'snourishment and reflection room. She swallowed a snort, earning a few strange looks from others nearby.
Military dining halls with crowded tables bore no resemblance to the opulent space surrounding her. Crystal chandeliers cast warm, golden light across tables draped in crisp white linens, while floor-to-ceiling windows offered breathtaking views of the desert landscape painted in dusky purples and golds by the setting sun. Fresh lavender adorned each table, the delicate fragrance mingling with the subtle scent of sage drifting through strategically placed diffusers.
And for another rule, each small table only held one guest. The spa wanted guests to spend time reflecting while they ate, rather than conversing with one another. Sadie had noticed the subtle ways to keep guests focused on themselves and prevent them from getting to know anyone else.
The same ethereal music floated through hidden speakers, offering a continuous stream of wind chimes, soft flutes, and synthesized nature sounds that she suspected played throughout the entire facility twenty-four hours a day. While she didn’t mind relaxing melodies, after just one day at Serenity Dunes, themonotonous tones were already beginning to grate against her nerves like a gentle but persistent itch. She found herself craving the raw energy of rock music, the kind that made her pulse quicken and her blood sing during intense workouts.
But observing the hushed reverence with which other guests ate and the way staff members glided between tables like wraiths bearing perfectly arranged plates, she doubted this sanctuary of serenity could even produce music with a livelier beat.
Her gaze swept the room, cataloging faces and behaviors with the automatic assessment ingrained by years of training. Just as she’d suspected, nearly everyone here radiated the unmistakable aura of serious wealth. While no one wore evening gowns dripping with diamonds, she spotted women in designer athleisure wear. Cashmere hoodies, silk blouses, yoga pants cut from expensive material with designer labels, and pristine white sneakers that had clearly never touched actual pavement, much less seen the inside of a real gymnasium.
Sadie was comfortable in her jeans and long-sleeved blouse and had thought pulling her freshly washed and air-dried hair into a ponytail would be good for dinner. But looking around, she definitely didn’t look like the other guests.
These women had obviously showered and primped after their day of treatments, their hair styled with professional precision and makeup applied with the kind of expertise that came from regular visits to high-end salons. They moved with the practiced grace of those accustomed to being pampered, their manicured fingers handling crystal water glasses as if they did so every day.
The clientele was all female, and she wondered why the spa wouldn’t want to capitalize on men’s desire to participate in anti-aging experiences. Her suspicious mind told her that, for some reason, the spa must have determined they could work with women more easily.
Conversations remained muted, with most guests eating in contemplative silence. During orientation, they’d been informed that forming new friendships was discouraged at Serenity Dunes. Their philosophy centered on the idea that social interactions could interfere with the deep introspection and self-care that were supposedly the cornerstones of the spa experience. A calm mind and calm body, they’d been told, required minimal external stimulation.
This was not a place to gather on the weekend.Another way to isolate the guests.
Since no one had bothered with formal introductions, Sadie had taken to assigning mental nicknames to the faces she recognized from her airport shuttle and various treatments. There was Blond Bob, the woman whose precision-cut hair probably required weekly maintenance at an exclusive salon. Dark Curls wore a velvet tracksuit that cost more than most people’s rent, her lustrous hair cascading to her waist in waves that caught the chandelier light like spun silk.
Grouchy Grandma, an elderly woman who’d spent most of the day complaining about everything from the thread count of her sheets to the temperature of her cucumber water, sat alone at a corner table, scowling at her organically sourced quinoa salad.
Desert Barbie, whose over-bronzed skin and rhinestone-studded sandals made her look like she’d stepped off a reality TV show, had shared the mineral bath facility with Sadie earlier, chattering endlessly to the bath assistant about her cosmetic surgeon’s latest recommendations.
From her shuttle ride, she also recognized Basketball—a statuesque woman whose height made even the spa’s flowing robes look like tunics —and Zen Girl, a perpetually drowsy-looking woman whose hair was secured in a neat topknot that somehow looked both trendy and effortless. Then therewas Vanilla Ice, a pale, lanky woman who’d worn head-to-toe white linen during their arrival and was sporting the same monochromatic ensemble tonight. She wondered if her entire wardrobe consisted of white linen, then caught herself.God, I must be seriously bored if I’m analyzing someone else’s fashion choices.
Her attention was drawn to the table beside her and the woman seated there. Unlike the other guests, this woman didn’t carry herself with the languid confidence of someone accustomed to luxury. There was something refreshingly genuine about her as she looked around the opulent dining room with the same subtle bewilderment that Sadie felt. It seemed she was also trying to decode the resort's rules.
When their eyes met, Sadie caught a flash of sharp intelligence in the woman’s gaze, the kind of assessing look that suggested she was cataloging details just as Sadie was. But the intensity softened quickly, replaced by a warm, conspiratorial smile that felt like finding an oasis in a desert of pretension.
