Page 31 of The Last Knight
Chapter Twelve
Aubrey stood just inside the yoga studio, the subtle scent of fresh paint mingling with lavender and citrus from the sachets she’d carefully tucked into a display basket. She faced the reception area, taking in the space with a contented sigh. On one end of the sleek wooden counter, a glowing salt lamp bathed the surface in a warm amber hue. On the other, a delicate flower arrangement of orchids and eucalyptus brought a touch of elegance and life. Centered on the counter a flat-screen tablet gleamed, ready for clients to book classes, schedule treatments, or sign up for memberships with a simple tap.
She turned to admire the cozy nook to the right. Two plush chairs, upholstered in calming shades of sage and ivory, framed a small table stacked with neatly arranged handouts. Business cards fanned out beside sachets tied with twine, their scent crisp and inviting. That bright burst of lavender and citrus seemed to breathe energy into the air.
Soft, ambient music of flutes and trickling water played from hidden speakers, weaving a tranquil feel to the space. Across the front windows stood a long table, soon to be draped with linens and adorned with a vibrant spread of finger foods. Just inside the entrance, space had been cleared for a small bar wine, herbal teas, perhaps a celebratory cocktail or two.
In just a couple of hours, guests would arrive for the grand opening. And judging by the steady stream of RSVP messages and social media buzz, it was going to be more than just well-attended. It would be a celebration of her new beginning.
Erin burst through the door holding a huge bouquet of flowers. Behind her, Padriag entered carrying bags overflowing with small decorative boxes.
“I finished them!” Erin announced as she took one of the boxes from the bags. “See-through window so they can see the chocolate.” She held it up proudly, adorned with a tiny bouquet that had to have taken forever to put together. “I made fifty.”
Aubrey’s mouth fell open. “You must have spent the entire day on it. They are absolutely lovely.” Indeed they were, the guests would be delighted with them.
Her cousin shrugged. “Mum and Leti covered the classes today while I worked on them. It went rather smoothly.”
“Can I put them down somewhere,” Padriag asked lifting the bags and pretending they were too heavy.
“The three-tiered stand on the side table will hold them nicely.” Aubrey took one of the bags showing Padriag where to put the other one.
Erin shooed her away. “I am sure you have plenty to do, Padriag and I will work on this display.”
Two hours later, dressed in a breezy floral dress and strappy sandals, Aubrey stood by the entrance of BreYea Yoga, welcoming guests, giddy with nerves and excitement.
The studio buzzed with laughter and conversation, the energy vibrant and affirming. Just as she’d hoped, the turnout was fantastic, especially after Gwen and Tammie arrived bringing along a group of friends from Culross.
Liam, one of the men who’d escaped the other realm, arrived with his partner John, who often attended classes at the Edinburgh studio. The couple was handsome, dressed in what looked to be perfectly tailored slacks, John in a polo shirt and Liam in a fitted long-sleeve shirt. No polos for Liam, not yet anyway. Aubrey suspected the Brit would soften as he spent more time in the casual surroundings of Scotland.
“It’s beautiful,” Gwen breathed, turning in a slow circle to take in the softly lit studio. “So serene. Peaceful, even with all these people here.”
Aubrey’s heart swelled at the praise, her fingers absently brushing the edge of a nearby table. “That’s exactly what I hoped for,” she said, her voice warm. “A sanctuary. A little haven from the chaos.”
“That’s exactly what it feels like,” came a familiar voice. John approached, holding a glass of wine in one hand. “And you, my friend, look stunning tonight.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek just as her gaze shifted toward the front door.
She froze.
Marcus stood just inside the threshold with a bouquet of flowers, a self-assured stance and soft curve to his lips.
“Oh, no.”
Gwen and John instinctively followed her line of sight.
“Who’s that?” Gwen asked, her eyes moving back and forth.
“My ex,” Aubrey said tightly. “Marcus. Believe it or not, he owns the space two doors down.”
“Ah,” Gwen said carefully. “So…not a welcome surprise?”
“Not even a little,” Aubrey muttered, just as Marcus began weaving his way through the crowd toward them. John moved as if to intercept him, but Aubrey caught his arm.
“Let me,” she whispered.
“Marcus,” she said when he reached them, keeping her tone neutral. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
His eyes flicked briefly to where her hand rested on John’s arm, but his smile didn’t budge. That was Marcus, always polished, always unreadable. Too smooth for his own good.
“I wouldn’t miss the chance to wish you luck,” he said, offering her the bouquet. “Best of luck with your little endeavor.”
