February Or Forever (3 page)

‘Hi, Drew, I'm Chrissie,'
she practised.

Urgh. Too casual.

‘
Good morning, Mr Williams. It's a delight to meet you.'

Too serious and old-fashioned.

‘
Drew Williams, what an honour. My name is Chrissie and I'm absolutely thrilled to be your yoga instructor. I'm here to help in any way I can.'

Strike three.
Oh c'mon, Chrissie. What are you trying to do, convince him to put you in his will?

She pushed out a breath and slid the key card down the slit in the lock. It lit up green and she pushed open the door, letting it slowly close behind her.

Suddenly aware that now, beyond this door, it was only herself and the multiple Grammy award-winning artist, she felt a tad underdressed in her Lycra outfit and comfortable rubber slip-on sandals. An occasion like this should call for a nice dress, or even trousers and a classy top, and definitely heels. But no, she'd be meeting her favourite singer in the clothing she wore every day. At least the requirements of her job had allowed her figure to regain its sculpted firmness after the birth of Kai, combined with eating a healthy diet and doing circuit sessions at the gym.

Why am I worried about how I look? Yoga is not about appearances, it's about the unity and oneness of everything. Aesthetics don't matter when we're all the same on the inside.

Chrissie tried the whole ‘talking herself around thing', but couldn't help feeling exposed, vulnerable, uncertain. Was she really cut out for this job in her sensitive emotional state of late?

A sound from above yanked her back to the present moment, and she realised there was no time or point in pondering such things. She had a job to do, and she had to get on with it. Now.

She straightened her shoulders, convinced her facial muscles to relax into an ‘everything's cool and I do this all the time' expression, and walked past the V.I.P. dining and lounge area which opened up and merged into the private garden. She turned the corner and walked slowly up the stairs. Each footstep seemed too loud, obtrusive, like the floor was warning its resident of an unfamiliar visitor. She made it to the top of the stairs and breathed deeply. Luckily Drew wasn't standing at the top, or she might have tumbled backwards and ended up sharing a hospital bed next to Rachel and her broken leg. The hallway was encased in rich, inviting, earthy red walls, and a warm, yellowy glow formed arches on the wall above each light fitting. The yoga studio was on the right, and around the corner to the left were the sleeping quarters; requiring, as Helena had mentioned, a different key. This place was practically a prison. Albeit a luxurious one.

Is he in there waiting? Or is he yet to come out of his room?
Chrissie prepared herself just in case, easing her mouth into a soft smile and pushing open the door to the studio.

The light flooding the room washed over her eyes, and she blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. Empty. Her shoulders relaxed and she set her bag down on the table in the corner and placed her key inside, then withdrew a couple of high-quality floor mats from the storage shelf, and placed them on the floor. She eyed their closeness, bent down, and moved them further apart. Satisfied she had the most appropriate distance calculated between the two, she turned and took her class notebook out of her bag, writing the day's date at the top, followed by the words,
Drew Williams, private session #1
. She didn't know what level he was at in terms of ability, but his sculpted physique assured her he was no stranger to exercise. Not many men admitted to being fans of yoga, but Drew seemed different. From what she'd seen of him in the media, which wasn't much since she'd left her career as a journalist ten years ago, he was very much an outdoorsy, earthy, natural type. No fancy hairstyles, multiple piercings, or excessive tattoos covering his body like third-degree burns; he was just himself. The boy next door, blessed with natural good looks, no accessories required. Drew Williams was the true-blue Aussie superstar the whole country — hell, the whole world — adored.

‘I should have brought my sunglasses.'

Chrissie spun around at the sound of his voice, and her breath halted at the sight of him in the doorway; his hand shading his eyes from the glare of sun invading the room, and a small smile arching into his cheek and peeking behind the shadow his hand had created.

Ba-boom, ba-boom,
her heart pounded. ‘Oh, I'll adjust the blinds for you.' Chrissie scurried over to the windows and swivelled the rods.

‘It's okay, might help me stay awake and shake off this jet lag.' Drew stepped into the room and walked towards her, each step he took making Chrissie's heart beat faster in anticipation. ‘You must be Chrissie?'

‘Yes. And you must be Drew?'
Oh God. Duh, Chrissie!

He smiled and held out his hand. Chrissie hoped hers wasn't sweaty and held it out to meet his. He grasped it gently but firmly, his warm skin sending a shot of adrenalin up her arm.

I just touched Drew Williams!
Inside she had succumbed to fan girl hysteria, while on the outside she hoped she appeared nonchalant but friendly. ‘It's great to meet you,' she said.

‘Likewise.' He withdrew his hand, his eyes still fixed on hers. ‘So is Chrissie short for Christine?'

‘Christina, actually.'

No one had called her Christina since…well, since she didn't want to be called that anymore.

‘Nice name,' he said in a deep, soulful tone as hypnotic as his singing voice. ‘Funny, how we like to shorten our names. No one calls me Andrew anymore except my mum.'

‘Mums are like that.' Chrissie smiled, even though the word ‘mum' shot a painful arrow through her heart. She'd never hear her own mother call her name again. Chrissie scratched her arm even though it wasn't itchy. ‘Do you have family in this neck of the woods?'

Did that sound too nosy?
What was she supposed to do; forget the pleasantries and go right ahead and tell him to drop and give her twenty salutes to the sun?

‘Sure do, my parents have lived in Tarrin's Bay all their lives.' As he spoke, the sunlight reflecting off his face made the hint of stubble framing his jaw sparkle. He was the type of guy who looked even better with a sprinkling of facial hair. He had just the right balance of hair to skin; enough to accentuate his features and give him that masculine look, but nowhere near enough to make the thought of kissing him akin to a trek through the Himalayan jungle.

Hang on — kissing him?
What am I thinking? Get your mind out of the jungle — er — gutter, Chrissie!

‘I could have stayed with them of course, but sometimes you just need a bit of time on your own, don't you?' he said.

Chrissie nodded. She'd probably agree to anything he said at this stage…he could tell her that toothpaste on toast was a delicious breakfast and she'd still nod.

Chrissie, you're thirty-seven, not seventeen. Be professional.
‘Well there's no better place to have some down time than Serendipity.'

‘I'm looking forward to it, and can't wait to get my body limbered up after that long-haul flight.' He swung his arms forwards and backwards. ‘I'll definitely be taking advantage of some massage too, while I'm here.'

Oh wow, those massage therapists would be in their element.

‘That's a good idea.' Chrissie cleared her throat. ‘So um, how much yoga experience do you have?'

‘I did an intensive retreat in Bali a few years ago, learned the ropes. Continued to practise through an instructor in L.A., but after a while I got out of the habit. Life, especially in this job, can be all over the place at times,' he said.

‘I can imagine.' Well, not really. Chrissie had no idea what living the life of a world famous musician was like, but she did know what motherhood was like. It was often ‘all over the place' too, in a different, domestic kind of way. ‘All the more reason to make it part of your life,' she added. ‘Yoga can be a constant. Something you can count on to ground yourself when things get chaotic.'

‘Exactly the reason I'm here.'

‘Well, I hope you have a relaxing stay.' Chrissie offered her best smile.

‘I hope so too.' His gaze fell to the left before connecting with hers again. ‘Though I'm not overly proficient at taking holidays. I can't go a week without playing my guitar or working on a song.'

‘I guess it's just part of who you are,' Chrissie said. ‘Something you can't cast aside.'

Like her ex-husband who couldn't cast aside his propensity for angry outbursts. ‘It's just my personality,' he'd said. ‘I'm a feisty, passionate person. Take it or leave it.' And leave it she did. She'd loved his exciting nature when they'd first got together, but after marriage and a child, domestic responsibility and commitment didn't agree with him.

‘True. My guitar is like a limb to me. I feel naked if I'm not carrying it.'

Why did he have to say that word? Another image flashed in Chrissie's mind, one she certainly shouldn't be indulging in. ‘Unfortunately you'll need both hands to be
guitar-less
for the next hour or so.' She attempted a laugh.

It wasn't that funny, but he seemed mildly amused. ‘I think I'll survive.'

‘Right, well let's get started.' Chrissie clapped her hands together like she did when it was time for Kai to go to bed.
Geez, can I stop acting like a mother for once?

‘Ready when you are, boss.' He grinned, and placed his hands loosely on his hips, awaiting her instructions.

Boss? She chuckled, flicking her hand. ‘The only boss here is the one downstairs. In this room, we're equals. I'm simply the facilitator.'

He held out his hands wide. ‘Facilitate away. I'm all yours.'

His eager openness sent a tingle of excitement through her nerves. He might just turn out to be the perfect student: positive, uncomplaining, and willing to be challenged. Oh, and bloody hot.

‘Right, well first of all I need to know if you have any significant medical conditions or injuries?'

‘Nope. Perfect health. As far as I know. My only issue is I get a bit of neck pain and stiffness, here…' he rubbed the side of his neck, ‘and down that side of my back,' he twisted and pointed. ‘Maybe from the way I hold my extra limb?'

‘Ah yes, the tension of your left arm as it holds the guitar could create some stiffness down that side.'

‘Thought so.'

‘Regular stretching should help that, and massage when needed.' Chrissie wished she was also qualified in massage.

Drew nodded. ‘Apart from that, I'm all good.'

‘Good.' She nodded.

‘Good,' he said.

Chrissie turned away and lit the floating candle in the bowl atop the small table that sat between the two large windows. ‘Not that we need any extra light in here, but I always like to light a candle for my classes.'

‘I like candles,' he said. ‘Electricity is overrated.'

Her lips eased into a smile and she gestured towards the yoga mat in front of hers. ‘If you'd like to take your position, we'll start with some breathing as you stand in
Tadasana
.'

Drew stood straight, his feet shoulder width apart, hands by his side, relaxed but firmly in position. Even in trackpants and a t-shirt he looked good.

‘Now, make sure your weight is evenly distributed, and feel a sense of lifting up from your knees and thighs and hips, lengthening the spine.' She walked around him, assessing his posture, and feeling slightly guilty that she was glad her role allowed her eyes free reign over his body. His shoulders were slightly hunched forwards and she brought her hands up to touch them, warmth from his body reaching her before she got to them. ‘Bring your shoulders back and downwards, but don't tense them.' She grasped his rounded deltoid muscles and encouraged them gently backwards, rolling his shoulders back and down. God, they were hard. His muscles tensed ever so slightly at first touch, then relaxed into the correct position. ‘That's better,' she said softly. ‘When you're playing guitar your shoulders roll forward, so you need to counteract this regularly.'

‘Sure, I can do that.'

Yep, perfect student. So, so perfect. She smiled as she stood behind him, a natural, masculine scent circling around her as she worked. ‘Make sure your core muscles are gently drawn inwards, and activate and tuck under your, um…' she glanced down at his…

‘My arse?'

‘Um, yes.' She cleared her throat.

‘Or my
ass
, as they say in the States,' he put on his best American accent. ‘My previous teacher always used the term buttocks, but it's too fancy schmancy, don't you think?'

Chrissie remained behind him with her hands on his shoulders, ensuring he wouldn't let his upper body posture drop while concentrating on his lower body, and that he couldn't see the red heat crawling over her face at his uninhibited honesty.

‘It does sound a bit…formal. I'll be sure to use your preferred term from now on,' she said, holding back a grin.

She walked around to the front of him, and pointed to the circular painting on the wall above the floating candle, its symmetrical patterns and balanced colours having a calming effect. ‘Keep your focus on the mandala over there, and breathe slowly and deeply.'

His chest rose and fell.

‘When you inhale, feel the air fill your lungs and expand your ribcage. The middle of your torso should move outwards, rather than just your upper chest or belly.'

He adjusted his breath and his body followed. She breathed in and out along with him, then took position on her floor mat. She expertly took the
Tadasana
stance, slightly off centre of the mat so he could stay focused on the wall behind her. ‘Keep breathing in…and out.' Chrissie could imagine the air between them being sucked into opposing lungs, each exhalation merging together in front of them in a curly, sinuous haze.