While G got himself together, Gabby and Markus made their way down the path. Markus raised an eyebrow, “So… what’d I walk in on? You have something to tell me?”
Gabby’s face burned. “He asked me to come into the pool. I was going to say no, but then I figured hot tubbing with the cult leader was exactly what I should be doing. He was obviously naked, and I’m wearing athleisure.” Gabby covered her face with her hands. “What was I thinking?”
“Good instincts. You did the right thing.”
“Really?” Gabby glanced up with disbelief.
“Really.”
“Did you see me trying to get out of those pants, though?”
“To be fair, who could get out of those pants?”
She laughed. “I know, right? You’re probably going to have to cut me out of them later.”
He glanced her way, and his lips parted as if to offer just that, but she quickly looked toward the trail, too overwhelmed to look him in the face. For a woman who wasn’t comfortable in a two-piece, she was getting in over her head.
“You just came out the gates a little hot. Tone it down and blend. Ladies Orientation should be easy.”
Gabby took a breath. “I’ve got this. No one will even know that I’m there.”
“Just remember to keep your clothes on.”
She deserved that.
Midmorning, the G-hut
Everyone, shut your eyes. Open your hearts,” said the woman standing in front of a circle of women at the Ladies-Only Power Couple Orientation. The group was gathered in the G-hut, a circular building made from beautiful stone and gleaming wood that practically dangled out over the ocean. A small circular hole in the floor at the center of the room revealed the rocky cliffs and crashing waves far below them.
Gabby was in the doorway, sweaty and out of breath and running late after the incident that would hereinafter be referred to as, umm, My Bad.
She surreptitiously put the phone she hadn’t had time to drop back at the cottage to silent. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed between the women to a free spot.
“Welcome, Gia,” the leader said, breaking the spell of the class, if Gabby hadn’t already. “I’m Jasmine.”
Tall, broad shouldered, boobs spilling out of her top, red hair down to there. In photos, Jasmine was beautiful, an object to be admired. In person, Jasmine was overwhelming. Like the Big G,her presence also screamed “cult leader.” Gabby couldn’t tear her eyes away.
Jasmine repeated, “Take a seat. Shut your eyes and open your heart.”
“Oh, sorry!” Gabby must’ve been staring.
The gong sounded. As it faded to a distant shimmer, Jasmine said, “It is my mission to share the practice and wisdom of Genesis with as many people as I can. It would be criminal to keep this happiness to myself.”
Funny choice of words.
“You will spend the next week finding your Inner-G.”
Gabby wanted to ask what that meant, but it seemed like something she was already supposed to know. Like that time she’d zoned out at Best Buy while the salesman was talking to her, and she ended up walking out with an air fryer instead of admitting she hadn’t heard a word he said.
A woman in a flowy dress passed out G-shots. Standard ingredient list: seaweed and radical molecules.
Gabby peered into the opaque green liquid. By the end of the week, she’d be speaking fluent G. The more she got into it, the easier it seemed. Sort of like the G version of pig latin. Instead of “ig-pay atin-lay,” just add a “G.”
G-love.
G-hut.
Inner-G.
