I parked and grabbed my duffel bag from the back seat. My “personal trainer” gear was packed tight: athletic wear, running shoes, and enough muscle shirts to look the part. Even if that part was real for me.
I couldn’t help but think back to when my mother was alive. My father had been different then—still driven but witha lightness to him. I remembered how he’d laugh, a sound that filled the room and made you feel safe. He would play basketball with us in the driveway, his competitive streak softened by the way he’d scoop my little brother up, spinning him until they were both dizzy. My mother would watch, and she’d scold him with a smile, telling him not to break her boys.
But when she died, that part of him died too. He became a machine, a relentless force in the world of venture capital. Gold Ventures was his kingdom, and every deal, every dollar, was another brick in the fortress he built to keep the world—and us—at bay. He disapproved of my dreams of becoming a personal trainer, seeing it as a waste of potential. I could still hear him saying, “You don’t build empires by counting reps and spotting squats.”
As I stepped into the lodge, the warmth of the place wrapped around me. The air was cool and fragrant, a mix of lavender and herbs. It was nothing like the boardrooms and glass towers my father favored.
A woman who looked to be in her early thirties stood at the reception desk, her fingers tapping against an iPad. She looked up as I approached, and a polite smile slid into place.
“Welcome to the Three Bears Retreat,” she said. Her voice was calm, practiced. “I’m Selena Turner, the manager.”
“Lennox Gold. I’m here for the guest fitness instructor position.”
Her eyes narrowed before her expression softened. She was beautiful in a polished way—smooth dark skin, sleek bob, and assessing eyes that missed nothing.
Her blazer and tailored pants suggested she could command any room, and I got the sense she often did.
“Good to finally meet you, I’m Selena. We spoke on the phone last week,” she said, stepping around the desk. “Follow me. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying while you’re with us.”
The lodge was a fusion of rustic mountain charm and cultural touches that reflected the three Black women who ran it. Kente cloth pillows added pops of color to the leather armchairs, and framed photos of Black trailblazers in wellness and fitness adorned the walls. It was a space that felt lived-in, loved, and unapologetically authentic.
I trailed behind her through the lodge, taking in the warm wood tones, the woven textiles draped over cozy seating areas, and the soft tinkle of wind chimes just outside the open windows. Everything about this place felt curated for calm.
Upstairs now, we reached a small hallway, and Selena opened a door to a room that mirrored the rest of the lodge’s aesthetic—natural, welcoming, and undeniably peaceful. The bed was large and covered in a quilt that looked handmade, and a large window opened to a view of the forest beyond.
“Get settled,” she said. “We have a staff meeting in an hour. It’ll be a good chance to meet the rest of The Bears and for us to get to know you beyond your application.”
“Looking forward to it.” Although I wasn’t quite sure about that. I wasn’t great at lying. I was more of an omission guy. You don’t ask, I won’t tell. Having to actually pretend to be a fitness guru, while I sort of was, was not something I was excited about.
Selena hesitated at the door, her hand resting on the frame. “I’ll see you soon.” Then she, her polished look, and sweet-smelling perfume left down the hall.
Alone, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I set my bag on the bed and took a moment to just exist in the quiet. There was no buzz of city traffic, no echo of my father’s voice, just the rustle of leaves outside and the distant call of birds.
I changed into a simple black t-shirt and workout pants, sliding into the role of the fitness instructor with ease. This was the part of my life that made sense. In the gym, or on a mat, Iknew who I was. I could help people find their strength, the same way I had found mine when life had tried to break me.
I took a walk around the property to clear my head. I followed a winding path through the trees until I reached a clearing where a yoga class was in session. The instructor with thick curly dark hair pinned up out of her face, moved with a languid grace, her body bending and flowing in perfect harmony with the soft rhythm of the wind chimes. I couldn’t pull my eyes away.
Her skin, the color of warm cinnamon, glowed in the afternoon light. She wore a red cropped yoga top and high-waisted leggings that hugged every curve. Her form was impeccable—each pose held with strength and fluidity. When she shifted into a downward dog, her spine arched, and the lush curve of her hips made my gut tighten. My reaction was visceral and immediate, and I forced myself to look away before my thoughts spiraled into dangerous territory.
I turned back toward the lodge and nearly collided with a small group of guests leaving an art session. Gangsta Boo’s “Love Don’t Live Here Anymore” thumped from a speaker, the bass vibrating through the walls.
“Remember what I told you,” a voice called out. “Use the music to heal. If you need to cry, put on some sad shit. If you want to beat somebody’s ass, put on some thug shit. Music is your friend, as am I. We’ll get through this.”
The woman stood in the doorway, a smudge of paint on her cheek and a joint balanced between two fingers. She was tall, with long dark braids and a smile that made you feel like you’d known her forever.
I watched as the guests nodded, their heads bobbing to the beat, and shuffled past me with a mix of tear-stained cheeks and soft laughter. The smell of frankincense and marijuana hung in the air, an odd but not unpleasant combination.
“Lennox,” Selena’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. She approached with a knowing smile. “Tasha’s methods are… unconventional, but they work. She has the best ratings from our client surveys.”
I chuckled, still processing the mix of sage advice and hip-hop. “I can see why. There’s nothing quite like it.”
3
LENNOX
Selena led me to the staff meeting, the two of us arriving first. I took a seat at the large wooden table, its surface marked with the character of use—scuffs, water rings, and the odd scratch that told the story of countless meetings, strategy sessions, and maybe even a few late-night wine-fueled heart-to-hearts.
The two other ladies filed in a few minutes later, and I recognized the curvy yoga instructor from the garden.
