Sharon Hartley - The South Beach Search

Reese sat at his desk and prioritized the phone calls he needed to return. Thanks to his little time-out with Miss New Age Wonder, he wouldn’t get home tonight until after ten o’clock.

Better stay far, far away from Wacky Taki or he’d never get any work done.

“Yes, Joanne?” he said into the intercom.

“Agent Rivas is on line two.”

Reese punched the speaker. “What have you got for me, Javi?”

“Dead end, Reese. Some crackhead pawned a silver cup from a horse race, nothing from Tibet. But the clerk practically got religious when talking about your friend Taki. When do I get to meet this knockout blonde?”

“She’s a little hard to reach,” Reese said, realizing with a groan that he still didn’t have her phone number or address.

Taki might be a nut job, but she was also damned elusive.

* * *

AT HOME THAT EVENING, still unsettled by the loss of her bowl—not to mention her lunch with Reese—Taki tried to calm her mind by sitting for meditation. But her restless thoughts looped over and over one thing: Reese made her think of her father—actually, reminded her of her father—and she hated her father.

Maybe Reese could help her find the bowl, but she had no business coming within a square mile of him if he dredged up thoughts of the soulless monster. She should never look into Reese’s eyes—no matter how dreamy those particular eyes. No matter how dark, how aware. She sighed.

Longing to regain serenity, Taki rose and opened her back door to gaze out on her small herb garden. The sight of vigorous plants bursting with life out of their neat rows immediately improved her mood. The natural world always soothed her. Other than practicing yoga, her happiest times were spent with Mother Nature, either hiking or watching beautiful things grow.

She moved down the steps, feeling as if she were transitioning into another world, a better place, a quiet and simple space where no problems interfered. With the property bordered by tall oaks, she always felt as if she were entering some secret garden as she entered the backyard of the estate where she lived.

Inhaling deeply, she was rewarded with the delicious scent of the rich earth she’d worked so hard to create—Miami Beach actually had pretty lousy dirt—and, yes, there it was: a hint of lavender.

Her gaze zeroed in on the row of lavender, shiny green leaves and tiny purple buds. So hard to grow in South Florida, but with the cooler temperatures of winter, her third attempt had finally met with success. Lavender encouraged relaxation, and soon she could create her special scented bath oil. She often gave samples to new students, recommending long, soothing soaks after class. Maybe she should give some to Reese.

The image of a bare-chested, dark-eyed Reese easing his muscled body into a steaming tub made her anything but relaxed—in fact, it instantly destroyed the tranquility she’d come outside seeking.

Closing her eyes, she released a slow exhale, forcing her traitorous mind away from a naked Reese Beauchamps. It would certainly help if she didn’t find him so darned attractive.

She slipped off her shoes and stepped into the soft damp dirt between rows. Glorying in that sensation, she wiggled her toes and hugged her elbows. The plot might be small, but it was all hers, and she was perhaps too proud of these happy, healthy herbs.

And how could she call herself an herbalist if she didn’t grow her own product? She’d been on the run so much lately, this was the first time she’d been able to grow her own crop in what seemed like forever. She frowned, thinking back. How long had it been since her last real garden? One where the plants sent their roots straight into the earth and not some plastic pot.

Bending her knees, but keeping her upper back flat to protect the fragile lumbar area, Taki yanked weeds from between her plants. Working steadily down a row of Saint-John’s-wort, she considered her next step to locate the missing bowl. Where was it? She didn’t have any luck with the pawnshops. Could Reese’s logical methods find it?

She sighed, realizing her thoughts had once again circled back to Reese Beauchamps. Certainly didn’t take long.

A mockingbird chirped, flitted into a pine tree, then onto the iron railing of Victoria’s second-floor balcony where he began to sing in earnest. No lights were on in the master bedroom, so likely her landlady wasn’t home. Taki hoped Victoria was out having a good time at one of her clubs, maybe playing bridge.

Victoria Van Buren, who’d just turned seventy, had once been her mother’s best friend and mentor. After returning from Asia, on what was meant to be a brief trip to see Navi six months ago, Victoria offered free lodging in a converted garage behind the main house for as long as Taki wanted, promising never to reveal her true identity to anyone. While waiting for the bowl to arrive, Taki had accepted Victoria’s hospitality.

But now with the bowl stolen, everything had somehow changed.

Taki loved her cottage, but definitely did not want to talk to Victoria tonight. Truthfully, she didn’t want to talk to anyone. That’s why she was pulling weeds in her herb patch, hoping to figure out what to do about her bowl and Reese.

Because the universe in all its wisdom had linked Reese with her bowl. Once that connection was made, there was nothing she could do about it—no matter how much she wanted to never think about him again.

Of course, it would be a lot easier to forget about Reese if she didn’t enjoy fantasizing about him in his bath. Maybe she needed to meditate more often. Or longer.

What would Navi tell her to do? Spotting another weed, she bent over to extract it. No doubt Navi would teach something about seeking the truth, tell her that she needed to “do the work.” And, yeah, that actually did make sense.

So she’d seek the truth. She’d continue to do what she could to find the bowl.

But she needed to avoid Reese while she did so. She didn’t want to be reminded of her scheming father’s miserable world of excess, a place she’d vowed to never live again.

* * *

TAKI SMILED AT Benny in his usual front row space as she spread her mat for her Thursday evening class at SoBe Spa.

“How is your shoulder tonight, Ben?” Before starting her classes, he’d had a frozen shoulder that he could barely move, the result of an old injury.

Benny slowly rotated his arm and grinned. “Look at that. You’re a miracle worker, Taki.”

“No, you did the work,” she told him, pleased by his improvement.

She taught her most serious students in private sessions, the way yoga was meant to be learned, but she always found good energy with the friendly spa members. She enjoyed teaching here, and hoped she wouldn’t have to move again too soon.

To think she’d actually been thinking maybe she could stay in Miami. She should have known better. Getting attached always led to suffering.

For everyone, but especially for her.

After three sun salutations to warm up, she settled into half lotus and surveyed the room on the lookout for curious aerobic or step class students who ventured into her class. They tended to overdo the poses, sometimes harming themselves. Once a personal trainer had almost blown out a knee. She’d warned him to be careful, but he wouldn’t listen, and had to wear an elastic brace for a month.

Nobody new tonight, though, except— Recognition sent a startled thrill into her belly. Balancing on his buttocks, his arms wrapped around his knees, Reese sat in the back row, staring at her.

She inhaled deeply to calm herself, surprised by her reaction. She’d been teaching yoga since she was eighteen years old, and never had such a disturbing response to a new student.