My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon

“Flip flops,” Lorenzo advises hesitatingly. If he thinks that’s some major clue, he is sorely mistaken because all that tells me is that I don’t have to run. Hallelujah!

In the elevator, I pull my phone out to text Janey but Lorenzo stops me.

“I talked to Janey this morning to make sure you had space in your schedule. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your work.” I stare at him in shock. I don’t know why I find his respect for my work such a surprise, but it is. It’s also a ridiculous turn-on given the way some of my previous dates have treated my passion for flowers and plants.

Oh, you have that nurturing gene. You’ll be a great mother one day.

That’s so cool. You don’t have to work. You get to just play with flowers.

Anybody can toss a bunch of flowers in a vase.

“She said to tell you, and I quote, ‘Fuck off, and that’s an order.’ ” He holds his hands up as though I might take offense. “Literally what she said.”

I laugh because it does sound exactly like something that would come out of Janey’s mouth. I can’t help but mentally check my to-do list, though. There’s nothing on the schedule for today, no luncheons or photo shoots or meetings, and we can’t begin the rehearsal dinner arrangements until tomorrow.

Feeling freer than I have in ages, I boldly slip my hand into Lorenzo’s. “Okay, all yours then. Let’s do this, whatever this is.”

Lorenzo leads me out the back of the resort to a grassy sea overlook area. There are a few other couples sitting on brightly colored striped blankets.

“Welcome, welcome!” a smiling woman with dreadlocks says. “Have a seat.”

I sit on an empty blanket as she indicated, and Lorenzo sits down beside me. I look around to see if I can figure out Lorenzo’s plan, but I can’t pinpoint anything specific. The dreadlocked woman who greeted us is wearing a swimsuit, and the man seated at her side has on compression shorts. The other couples are also in a mix of workout gear, swimsuits, and casual attire. The only thing we have in common is that we’re all barefoot and in paradise.

Leaning over to him, I whisper, “What are we doing?”

His smirk says that he’s not telling me . . . yet.

Fuck, that ‘yet’ is my undoing. It’s the moment on the precipice of an adventure when you know that something amazing or something awful might happen but you have no idea which. The possibilities feel infinite. I feed on that chaotic anarchy roaring in my blood like a starved animal.

But I don’t let any of that show. Nope, I sit still and wait patiently. My mother would be proud. Shocked, but proud.

Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too long.

“Welcome, everyone. My name is Amalya. I’ll be your instructor for couple’s yoga today.” Her voice is soothing and calm, but my heart jumps into my throat. “This is my assistant and boyfriend, Stefan.” The man sitting beside Amalya bows his head in greeting.

I look to Lorenzo with a huge smile. “How’d you know I love yoga?” I whisper.

Yoga is my jam. I take classes at One Life Gym at home several times a week. I’m not exactly a headstand-meditation sort of yogi, but I can sure as shit touch my toes and do a damn good Goddess pose. I’m also ridiculously skilled at savasana, I think with a grin.

Lorenzo leans so close that I can feel his breath on my ear. “Violet.”

Of course. I’m about to ask what in the hell she said when a voice I don’t want to hear breaks into the quiet group.

“Come on, Doug. I don’t want to be late.”

Shit. No way. God, please not now. Not when I have a chance to get my yoga on.

Despite my plea, Emily and Doug come around the corner and stop short when they see every pair of eyes on them.

“Sorry,” Doug says apologetically. “We took the wrong path and got a little lost.”

Amalya gives them the same warm welcome and directs them to a blanket. Right next to Lorenzo and me.

“Oh! Hey, guys,” Emily mouths exaggeratedly as she waves.

I smile tightly in response before turning my attention back to Amalya.

“Today, we will honor existing connections and create new ones from you to your partner and your partner to you. This process is one that must be done with patience, led with the heart, and energized by the body.”

I can see couples looking to each other with questions in their eyes, not sure what mumbo-jumbo Amalya is talking about. I’m sure they thought ‘couple’s yoga’ would be Kama Sutra foreplay, but yoga is so much more than that.

“To begin, face one another with crisscrossed feet,” Amalya instructs, and everyone moves to follow the order and the example she sets with Stefan. “Good, now place your palms together. Your right to your partner’s left, your left to your partner’s right. Once this connection has been forged, close your eyes and feel the energy exchange begin.”