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I’m working from home today since I have a call to take with all the Hudson principles about our upcoming quarterly audit figures. Since we’re coordinating three offices, Keene proclaimed, “It doesn’t make a damn bit of difference for you to haul your ass into the city if this is the only pressing thing on your desk.”
“It is.”
“Then keep your ass home. Spend time with your daughter. Free my niece for the day.”
Yeah, I’ll do everything except the last.
As I wait for the call to connect me with the five owners, I watch as Laura navigates Bailey’s wheelchair to the flattest part of our backyard where she’s spread a couple of blankets. I frown wondering what the two of them are up to.
Spying on them from the safety of my home office, I see Laura go through the normal physical therapy exercises. Then she grins as Bailey when they assume the same position. Their knees are bent, feet together—in Bailey’s case, as best as she can, hands crossed one in front of the other, shoulders back.
“They’re doing yoga,” I murmur aloud.
“What did you say, Liam?” Caleb’s voice comes through my speaker.
“Your daughter is teaching mine yoga.”
There’s a pause before he chuckles. “She became a certified instructor when she went to college.”
“Really?
“Yes.”
Keene chooses then to come on the line. “What are you saying yes to, Caleb? We never agree to anything when it comes to audits.”
“Hold on to what’s left of your hair, Keene,” the other man snarls even as I guffaw. Caleb explains, “I’m telling Liam that Laura’s a certified yoga instructor.”
“Thank Christ she is. She’s helped reduce the therapy bills around Hudson simply by teaching a few classes.”
“You’re kidding.”
Caleb acknowledges. “Keene’s right.”
Colby logs in. “Must you say something so odiferous so often?”
Keene chuckles. “All kidding aside, yoga offers a combination of movement with mental focus, in which individuals are taught good posture, self-awareness, and self-care along with relaxation. It’s not just for injuries, but for people who do repetitive work like our computer techs.”
Colby clues in. “Oh, is Laura planning another class soon? I have a team of agents very interested in taking it.”
Caleb’s dry, “I’m sure you do,” is what sets me off.
I manage to keep my voice even despite the fact Laura shifts into a move I know is called downward facing dog. Christ, her ass is perfectly molded in those pants. “Sorry. Right now, she’s too busy conducting private sessions.”
“Aww, Bailey’s getting some lessons?” Colby wonders.
“Yes.”
“Guess my guys are going to have to wait a while,” he cedes.
I don’t want to offend him, but if I have my way, Colby’s agents are going to have to find a new yoga instructor. Permanently.
Caleb blows out a breath. “Can we get to the point of this meeting—not that I have a problem with discussing my daughter’s incredible talents.”
Just then, Laura shifts her legs from being parallel to the ground to raising them in midair. Her shirt falls down, revealing her toned abs before she lowers her legs halfway and lifts them straight in the air again.
I might have just swallowed my tongue. I wonder if the good doctor can find it for me or if I need to call 9-1-1 for that?
“Maybe there’s a special form of mouth-to-mouth she can teach me,” I mumble.