Page 14 of Eclipse Bound
Almost.
The whiskey glass still sat on her coffee table where she'd left it, and her phone showed the text to Stephanie, simple evidence that something had happened. Not to mention the wad of cash he’d pressed into her hand. But holograms? Aliens? A man named Eclipse with stars in his eyes?
Everything she could write off, but not those eyes.
"Get a grip," she muttered, pouring coffee into her travel mug. She resisted adding a splash of whiskey to combat her slight hangover.
She had a full schedule at the retreat today. There were damage control meetings about the incident. Three yoga classes needed rescheduling. Plus, she had a call with the insurance company about Pete's roof because the resort owned the property, and her bosses didn’t want to deal with it. These were normal, practical problems that required normal, practical solutions.
Not alien diplomacy.
Aliens.
The word sounded insane. Well, more so than usual.
She checked her reflection in the hall mirror. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, but otherwise, she looked like her usual self with sensible clothes and hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail. She was the kind of woman who dealt with reality, not interplanetary matchmaking schemes.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming text from Stephanie, “You missed all the fun. Aliens showed up. I made out with one of them.”
Rowan rolled her eyes.
“Or he might be a cowboy from Kansas City,” came a follow-up text along with the picture of a naked man’s ass. The cowboy was passed out on a bed. “I’ll ask him when he wakes up. Cover for me?”
“Can’t. Get to work. Today will be crazy,” Rowan answered.
“Boo!”
Rowan tossed her phone into her bag, grabbed her coffee, and headed out the door.
The drive to Duskrock Yoga and Spa Meditation Center took her past Crimson Rock Inn. Without thinking, she slowed down as she passed and scanned the parking lot and windows. What was she expecting to see? Three aliens hanging out by the pool with mimosas?
"This is ridiculous," she told herself, accelerating again. "I’ve been living here too long. I had heat stroke from too many hours spent helping guests in the desert sun."
It was more likely than an alien asking her for help after crash landing on Earth.
But as she pulled into the retreat's parking lot, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Eclipse would indeed return as promised. And worse yet, she couldn't deny the tiny flutter of excitement that accompanied the thought.
The retreat was buzzing with activity when she arrived. A news van from Channel 12 had parked by the entrance, and a cluster of tourists with cameras stood near the meditation garden, pointing toward the distant crash site. The van reminded her of her past life, and she felt that tiny rush of excitement that came from chasing a story. She forced her eyes to turn away. That wasn't her job anymore.
Before Rowan was out of her car, Darren, the retreat manager, waved frantically from the entrance.
"Rowan. Thank goodness. The insurance adjuster is here, and Channel 12 wants a statement about yesterday's incident. And Mrs. Craine is demanding a refund because her energy vortex is disturbed, even though she received all the services she paid for."
"I'll be right there," Rowan called back, stopping to scan the crowd for her mystery man. He was nowhere to be seen.
The morning passed in a blur. Rowan filled out paperwork, drafted a carefully worded statement for the company blog about unusual atmospheric phenomena, and placated disgruntled yoga practitioners with promises of free aura cleansings. Though, really, what did they expect? UFOs were a part of the local culture. It hardly seemed worthy of complaint. On the opposite side of that spectrum, the hint of UFOs and visitors from outer space was good for booking rooms to capacity. The front desk had become a sea of telephone rings.
“Who is this Eclipse group you have booked in the Desert VIP suite?” Stephanie asked as Rowan tried to sneak away to her office. “There is no information in the company profile or billing info, and no services are listed.”
“Alien enthusiasts. I didn’t have time to fill it out. They paid me in cash. I’ll do it later. Just leave it booked,” Rowan answered. “I’m going to be hiding in my office.”
“You got it, boss.” Stephanie gave a small salute.
Her office looked like a cookie-cutter of every other office at the retreat. It had the same lamp, the same pastel desert landscape painting, and the same tan office chair, as if the owners had received bulk discounts on all things blah.
Rowan leaned over and dug into her secret candy stash in the back of her bottom drawer. Her office door opened without someone knocking.
She frowned and dropped her candy bar. “Just a?—”
