Ten minutes. That’s all he gets.
Maybe twenty.
“Fine,” I say.
To his credit, he doesn’t smile.
He steps back and gestures. “After you.”
This feels like a mistake. Still, I sigh and step out.
He falls into step beside me, matching my pace. The silence isn’t as tense as before, but it’s not easy either. Too many things unsaid.
“So,” I say, “you’re a spiritual guru now?”
“I wouldn’t say guru. I practice Reiki and mindfulness techniques.”
“Never took you for the type.”
“Me either. But they’ve been helpful.”
Did they fix your messed-up childhood? I want to ask. I don’t. I’m too angry to soften it, and too tired to deal with the fallout.
“Happy for you,” I say instead.
“Yeah. It’s good to find a purpose. Even better when it helps other people.”
“I’m sure the money doesn’t hurt.”
The old Reid would’ve snapped back. This one just chuckles and lets it go.
Weird.
“So, you run this place year-round?”
“Yes. About thirty staff. We keep the number of guests limited.”
“And how do you decide who deserves help?” I glance at him. “I’m guessing it depends on their bank balance.”
“Didn’t I already tell you some of our clients don’t pay at all?”
“That doesn’t mean they don’t donate. Or refer wealthy friends.” I meet his eyes. “Or give generous tips and leave five-star reviews, or... I don’t know, write you legacies in their wills, for all I know.”
His gaze drops to my lips, heat flickering there.
The implication hits hard.
Everything that happened earlier crashes back.
No. Don’t go there.
“Luke tells me you think we’re running a cult,” he says.
I shrug. “You have to admit, a place like this… it’s not an unreasonable conclusion.”
“Is it?” He studies me. “Is it so hard to believe we actually help people? Was I that bad?”
I bite my lip. Regret flashes in his eyes.