on the side. Everything except the smoothie looked extremely appealing.
“That’s your welcome smoothie there,” said Yao. “There are six organic smoothies a day, prepared specifically for your changing individual needs.”
“They’re not wheatgrass, are they? I once had a wheatgrass shot and it scarred me for life.”
Yao picked up the glass and handed it to her. “Trust me, it’s tasty!”
Frances looked at it doubtfully.
“The smoothies are mandatory,” said Yao kindly. It was confusing because you’d think from his tone that he’d said, “They are optional.”
She took a sip. “Oh!” she said, surprised. She could taste mango, coconut, and berries. It was like drinking a tropical holiday. “It’s quite good. Very good.”
“Yes, Frances,” said Yao. He used her name as often as a desperate real estate agent. “And the good news is it’s not only delicious but brimming with natural goodness! Please make sure you drink the entire glass.”
“I will,” said Frances agreeably.
There was an awkward pause.
“Oh,” said Frances. “You mean now?” She took another, larger sip. “Yum!”
Yao smiled. “The daily smoothies are crucial for your wellness journey.”
“Gosh, well, I want to keep my wellness journey on track.”
“Absolutely you do,” said Yao.
She met his eyes. There was no irony as far back as she could see. He was going to shame that snark right out of her.
“I’m going to leave you to relax,” said Yao. “Your welcome pack is right here. Please take the time to read it because there are important instructions for the next twenty-four hours. The noble silence that Napoleon mentioned will be beginning shortly, and I know you’re going to find that so beneficial. Oh, now, speaking of silence, Frances, I’m sure you can guess what I need next from you!” He looked at her expectantly.
“No idea. Not more blood, I hope?”
“It’s time to hand over all your electronic devices,” said Yao. “Mobile phone, tablets, everything.”
“No problem.” Frances retrieved her phone from her handbag, switched it off, and handed it to Yao. A not unpleasant feeling of subservience crept over her. It was like being on an airplane once the seatbelt sign was turned on and the flight attendants were now in charge of your entire existence.
“Great. Thanks. You’re officially ‘off the grid!’” Yao held up her phone. “We’ll keep it safe. Some guests say the digital detox is one of the most enjoyable elements of their time with us. When it’s time to leave, you’ll be saying, ‘Don’t give it back! I don’t want it back!’” He held up his hands to indicate someone waving him away.
Frances tried to imagine herself in ten days and found it strangely difficult, as if it wasn’t ten days but ten years she was imagining. Would she really be transformed? Thinner, lighter, pain-free, able to leap from her bed at sunrise without caffeine?
“Don’t forget your massage at the spa,” said Yao. “Oh—and that nasty paper cut!”
He walked to a sideboard, selected a tube from an array of Tranquillum House–branded cosmetics, and said, “Let’s see that thumb.”
Frances presented it to him and he placed a dab of soothing cool gel on her paper cut with tender care.
“Your wellness journey has begun, Frances,” he said, still holding her hand, and instead of smirking Frances found herself close to tears.
“I’ve actually been feeling very unwell lately, Yao,” she said pitifully.
“I know you have.” Yao put both his hands on her shoulders and it didn’t feel silly or sexual; it felt healing. “We’re going to get you well, Frances. We’re going to get you feeling as well as you’ve ever felt in your life.” He closed the door gently behind him as he left.
Frances turned in a slow circle and waited for that inevitable moment of solitary traveler gloom, but instead her spirits lifted. She wasn’t alone. She had Yao to take care of her. She was on a wellness journey.
She walked out onto her balcony to admire the view and gasped. A man on the balcony next to hers was leaning so far over it he looked in danger of falling.
“Careful!” she warned, but only under her breath so as not to startle him.
The man turned in her direction, lifted his hand, and smiled. It was Ben. She recognized the baseball cap. She waved back.
If they raised their voices they could probably hear each other perfectly well, but it was better to pretend they were too far away to chat, otherwise they’d feel obligated to talk every time they happened to see each other on their balconies, and there was going to be enough