Read Online Sacred Serenity (Lotus House Book 2) by Audrey Carlan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Audrey Carlan
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trashed the bigger pieces. “I apologize, Ms. St. James. Please continue. You stated you live in Berkeley with your grandparents. Are your parents not from around here?”
He caught me off guard with his question. He hadn’t asked anyone else a direct personal question. “My mother’s dead. Anyway, I want to practice pediatrics or gynecology.” I moved to sit down, but his quick response stopped me.
“Any particular reason why pediatrics or gynecology?” He took off his glasses, and his expression softened. His curt speech and cool demeanor when he entered the class were now gone. In its place, a kinder tone, one that spoke of hugs and pats on the head. It was probably the tone he used to connect to his patients. I’d heard that a lot of doctors did that. Lower the voice, get on the patient’s level, and look them in the eye. All of it was part of earning the patient’s trust and respect so they’d feel confident in their doctor’s care and diagnosis.
I licked my lips and compressed them. His eyes seemed to follow the movement, and for a split second, a flash of pain rippled across his face. The expression came and went so fast I couldn’t have catalogued it if I’d tried. He definitely did not want me or anyone to see so deeply into his psyche.
“Well, just like a lot of my classmates I also lost someone. My mother died in childbirth. She was only twenty. I’d like to prevent complications such as the ones my mother experienced, if I can.”
“Childbirth,” he practically gasped. “Twenty years old. Such a catastrophic loss.”
I offered a small smile. “Yes, well. Such is life, I guess.”
“Yes, Ms. St. James. I do believe you’re right. We never know what challenges life is going to put in front of us until the moment occurs.”
He took a slow breath, looked at me, and then at Landen, and turned on a heel, moving back to his desk.
“All right. Now that introductions have been made, and we know why you want to be physicians, let’s try to help you look the part.”
DASH
“That’s him, getting on stage now.” I pointed to my longtime friend, Atlas Powers. His dark brown, curly hair hung down to his chin in loose waves. He had on denim jeans with a hole splitting the knee as he sat down on the lone barstool under the track lighting. The black, shiny stage was worn and scuffed, putting breaks in the light shining on it. Atlas hooked a booted foot on the bottom rung of the stool, rested an acoustic guitar on his lap, and smiled at the audience. The purple scarf around his neck popped against the black background, sharing space with the single key necklace he had dangling against his shirt. The key sparkled like a camera flash when he shifted. I never did find out what the key was for, and every time I asked, he avoided an answer and changed the subject.
“And this is the guy you wanted us to see?” Jewel Marigold raised her pointed chin toward the stage. “Why, Dash? This is a bar not a yoga studio,” she declared, removing her coat and scooting into the booth next to Crystal.
I’d asked both of my co-owners from Lotus House to come tonight to see Atlas in action before he approached them about working in the studio. His music was such a huge part of his being. Before they chatted about employment opportunities, I wanted them to see his inner light. I believed it would make the case for bringing him on board far easier.
“What better way to get to know a person than to see them broken wide open? Anyone with a credential could technically teach yoga at Lotus House as you’ve mentioned. If my memory serves, the two of you hire instructors who have more to offer than a simple lesson, right? They need to have that something special that makes them unique to the center. Atlas has that. In spades.”
Crystal nodded. “This is true. We want the clients in our house to experience more than a typical class.”
I grinned. “Not only have I personally taken several of his heated Vinyasa
He caught me off guard with his question. He hadn’t asked anyone else a direct personal question. “My mother’s dead. Anyway, I want to practice pediatrics or gynecology.” I moved to sit down, but his quick response stopped me.
“Any particular reason why pediatrics or gynecology?” He took off his glasses, and his expression softened. His curt speech and cool demeanor when he entered the class were now gone. In its place, a kinder tone, one that spoke of hugs and pats on the head. It was probably the tone he used to connect to his patients. I’d heard that a lot of doctors did that. Lower the voice, get on the patient’s level, and look them in the eye. All of it was part of earning the patient’s trust and respect so they’d feel confident in their doctor’s care and diagnosis.
I licked my lips and compressed them. His eyes seemed to follow the movement, and for a split second, a flash of pain rippled across his face. The expression came and went so fast I couldn’t have catalogued it if I’d tried. He definitely did not want me or anyone to see so deeply into his psyche.
“Well, just like a lot of my classmates I also lost someone. My mother died in childbirth. She was only twenty. I’d like to prevent complications such as the ones my mother experienced, if I can.”
“Childbirth,” he practically gasped. “Twenty years old. Such a catastrophic loss.”
I offered a small smile. “Yes, well. Such is life, I guess.”
“Yes, Ms. St. James. I do believe you’re right. We never know what challenges life is going to put in front of us until the moment occurs.”
He took a slow breath, looked at me, and then at Landen, and turned on a heel, moving back to his desk.
“All right. Now that introductions have been made, and we know why you want to be physicians, let’s try to help you look the part.”
DASH
“That’s him, getting on stage now.” I pointed to my longtime friend, Atlas Powers. His dark brown, curly hair hung down to his chin in loose waves. He had on denim jeans with a hole splitting the knee as he sat down on the lone barstool under the track lighting. The black, shiny stage was worn and scuffed, putting breaks in the light shining on it. Atlas hooked a booted foot on the bottom rung of the stool, rested an acoustic guitar on his lap, and smiled at the audience. The purple scarf around his neck popped against the black background, sharing space with the single key necklace he had dangling against his shirt. The key sparkled like a camera flash when he shifted. I never did find out what the key was for, and every time I asked, he avoided an answer and changed the subject.
“And this is the guy you wanted us to see?” Jewel Marigold raised her pointed chin toward the stage. “Why, Dash? This is a bar not a yoga studio,” she declared, removing her coat and scooting into the booth next to Crystal.
I’d asked both of my co-owners from Lotus House to come tonight to see Atlas in action before he approached them about working in the studio. His music was such a huge part of his being. Before they chatted about employment opportunities, I wanted them to see his inner light. I believed it would make the case for bringing him on board far easier.
“What better way to get to know a person than to see them broken wide open? Anyone with a credential could technically teach yoga at Lotus House as you’ve mentioned. If my memory serves, the two of you hire instructors who have more to offer than a simple lesson, right? They need to have that something special that makes them unique to the center. Atlas has that. In spades.”
Crystal nodded. “This is true. We want the clients in our house to experience more than a typical class.”
I grinned. “Not only have I personally taken several of his heated Vinyasa
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