Page 15

In the end, it’s Flora who reminds me what I’m here to do.

We’re on a video call as I sit on the balcony of the flat, looking out at the ocean, the breeze tickling my shoulders, and when I’ve told her that I still haven’t spoken to Leo, she’s understandably confused.

‘But you’ve interviewed his dad,’ she checks, pottering about her kitchen.

‘Yeah, he’s great.’ I inhale deeply. ‘Flora, you really need to come here, especially as an artist. You need to paint this view. The beach is so beautiful, framed by these amazing cliffs – can you see them in the distance? Hang on, if I move the phone—’

‘Iris, why are you talking to me about the view ? You need to speak to Leo!’

‘I’ve tried.’ I shrug. ‘He’ll come round.’

‘Yeah, once you’ve persuaded him to,’ she says, her brow furrowed. ‘When he was playing Wimbledon, there’s no way Kieran would have chosen to speak to a journalist. If this guy is the same calibre, you need to make an effort.’

‘What do you think I’m doing?’

‘I think you’re enjoying a lovely holiday in a place that is clearly starting to distract you from your job. All you’ve told me about so far is how amazing Burgau is and your subject’s charming father.’

‘He is charming. And nothing could distract me from my job! This is delicate. I can’t force him to talk to me. I’ll make him see the light. Eventually.’

‘Uh-huh.’ She gives a sceptical look down the camera. ‘Can I give you my opinion?’

‘It sounds like I don’t have a choice in the matter.’

‘You’re not fighting for this story.’

‘Hey!’

‘You’re not!’ she maintains. ‘If he was a tennis player, you’d be out on those courts every day. Look at that ski dude that everyone fell in love with – you basically followed him on a pair of skis every day.’

‘Did you use the word “dude”?’ I ask, appalled.

‘I’m saying that I think your… worries might be affecting how much you want this story. The Iris I know would immerse herself in the world of her subject whether they’re ready for her or not.’

‘What do you want me to do, Flora?’ I sigh huffily. ‘I can’t follow him into the sea. You… you know I can’t do that.’

‘Maybe this is the opportunity you need to finally face your fear, Iris.’

I groan. ‘Flora, I can’t .’

‘Okay, fine. Well, is he in the sea right now?’

‘No, he’s… he’s at yoga.’

A satisfied smile appears on her lips. ‘ You like yoga.’

I take a moment, letting her point sink in.

‘Out of interest, when did you decide that Leo Silva got to make the rules?’ Flora continues breezily, propping up her phone on something so she can light a three-wick candle on her coffee table before she plonks herself down on the sofa.

‘I get that you need him for the story, but doesn’t he need you, too? He needs this publicity.’

Damn it. She’s right.

What am I doing?

‘Flora, I have to go,’ I say, jumping to my feet. ‘There’s somewhere I need to be.’

‘That’s my girl,’ she grins. ‘Oh, and Iris, wear the teal yoga leggings and matching bra. You packed that set, right?’

‘Yeah.’ I hesitate. ‘Why?’

‘Because it will be very hard for anyone to say no to you when you’re wearing that.’

She winks at me and hangs up.

*

The moment I walk into the yoga studio, I see him.

He’s sitting on a mat in the back row of the room in a white t-shirt and dark shorts, scrolling on his phone before the class starts.

Now, I’m not sure if I believe in fate, but it just so happens that this is a very small studio and the only free mat left is the one at the back next to his.

Okay, fine, I believe. Thank you, Fate. You’ve done me a solid.

I slink across the room and sit down cross-legged on the free mat as elegantly as possible, smiling at the teacher at the front of the room, who gives a small nod in acknowledgement of my arrival. Leo glances over and does a double take.

‘ Iris? ’ he says in disbelief, his eyes widening as I pretend to have only just noticed him.

‘Oh! Hi Leo. You take this class too? Weird.’

‘Shall we begin?’ the teacher announces, sitting down on her mat at the front of the class, facing us all.

‘We’re going to start today on the flat of our backs so when you’re ready, lie down on your mat.

Take your time, lie down and tuck your chin slightly and ease into things.

Let’s take a moment to centre ourselves and let go of our day by closing our eyes. ’

Following her lead, I do as she instructs, straightening my legs and lying back, before shutting my eyes. I’m soon interrupted.

‘What are you doing here?’ Leo hisses.

‘Yoga,’ I whisper, without opening my eyes.

‘I mean in this class. My class.’

‘Do you own the class?’

‘What? No, I don’t mean—’

‘Let your arms and legs relax,’ the instructor says soothingly. ‘Allow my voice to guide you through our practice today. Take a deep breath in, that’s it.’

I inhale deeply through my nose.

‘I know what you’re doing,’ Leo whispers.

I exhale through my mouth.

‘I hope you don’t expect me to talk to you here,’ he grumbles.

Turning my head slowly to look at him, I open my eyes and try not to laugh at how ridiculous this situation is, the two of us lying down next to each other. He’s glaring at me.

‘Would you mind being quiet? You’re disturbing my zen,’ I say softly.

‘ I’m disturbing you ?’

The instructor clears her throat at the front. ‘Whatever is going on with you in your external life, now is the time to kindly let go as we go inward, deepening our breath and relaxing our body.’

‘I really—’ Leo begins in a low voice.

‘Why don’t we talk after class?’ I suggest politely. ‘Unless you want to carry on disturbing everyone in this room?’

His jaw clenches. But he gets the hint and turns away to look up at the ceiling. I do the same, fighting the urge to smile triumphantly and instead listening to the soothing tones of the instructor as she guides us through the class.

With my recent work load, it’s actually been a while since I did any yoga and, although admittedly, I purely came to seek out Leo, now that I’m here, I’m invested.

Throughout the class, I focus on tapping into ‘the power of self-love’ as the instructor tells me to, and the fact that I can’t help but notice Leo glancing over at me suspiciously every now and then is an added bonus.

There’s no chance that he’s leaving here without talking to me, even if it’s to tell me off some more. At least we’ll be communicating.

Another bonus is that I get the chance to steal glances at him during the class too.

I never realised how sexy it is for a man to do yoga, but fuck me, the way his muscles flex and move as he changes positions, watching the curve of his upper arms bulge as they take his weight when he balances, so powerful and strong.

It’s a shame he’s such a pain in the arse, because he really is pretty to look at.

When the class finishes, I make a point of going up to the instructor to tell her how much I enjoyed it and she encourages me to come back during my stay.

Our conversation means that I’m the last student to leave.

Grabbing my bag that I left at the side of the studio, I thank her again and push through the doors.

Guess who’s waiting for me on the other side?

‘Iris,’ Leo calls out, as I pass him on my way out without stopping. ‘Iris!’

I pretend to not hear him, marching onwards.

‘Hey! Hey, London !’

I stop in my tracks, turning to give him a strange look as he catches up.

‘Did you just call me “London”?’

‘I need to talk to you.’

‘Okay,’ I say, continuing my walk home, ‘what’s up?’

‘ What’s up? ’ He looks baffled as he falls into step with me. ‘You showed up at my yoga class, unannounced.’

I shoot him a strange look. ‘Do I have to tell you what I’m doing in advance?’

‘You know that’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Good, because that would be creepy.’

‘There are other yoga classes you can take,’ he mumbles.

‘I like this one. I plan on signing up to lots more during my stay.’

‘Those classes are really important to me. I don’t want any disturbances.’

‘As I recall it, the only disturbances in that class came from you.’

‘Hold on.’ He hurries ahead so that he can round back and face me, stopping me in my tracks. ‘I mean it. Those classes,’ he gestures at the studio behind me, ‘they help me to get out of my own head. That’s something I really need to do the next few weeks.’

‘You could always do another yoga class. Or take private ones.’

He shakes his head. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because… I feel safe in that class. I know the instructor and the other students, and I… trust them. I like to do yoga with other people in the room; it’s like you’re part of something.

A community or whatever. I began yoga in that class with that instructor, and I want to continue under her guidance.

’ He sighs, putting his hands on his hips.

‘I like the routine of it. Without the calm and focus of that class, my head goes… wobbly.’

I break into a warm smile. ‘Okay, Leo. I won’t come to that class again. You don’t need to worry. I’ll find another one.’

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Sorry if I made your head go… wobbly.’

He’s still confused, but the corners of his lips twitch. ‘Oh. Thanks.’

‘It’s been nice getting a glimpse of your routine,’ I admit, omitting the part about how very nice it was to observe him doing yoga and how disappointed I am that I won’t get to see the show again.

I tilt my head at him. ‘You know, if you’d turned up yesterday and mentioned the yoga, and said everything you did just then, I wouldn’t have had to find that out on my own.

I did ask what else you’re doing to prepare for the competition other than surfing.

Sounds like yoga and the gym are two big components of your process. ’

He glances at the floor and then brings his eyes up to meet mine, a knowing smile creeping across his lips. ‘You talked to my dad today.’

‘I did.’

‘He’s the one who got me into yoga.’

‘I know.’

He nods, looking thoughtful. ‘Okay I get what you’re saying. We should talk.’

‘We should. But you said that to me at Marina’s Bar, like you were fully on board, and then stood me up later,’ I remind him, sticking out my chin. ‘So.’

‘So… what?’

‘So, I’m good at my job, Leo,’ I tell him, allowing a touch of exasperation to filter into my tone.

‘If you want me to write things about you that have the potential to impact not only your career in a positive way, but also that of your mother’s and your father’s business, then you need to start showing up. ’

He looks down at his trainers guiltily, but I carry on, unaffected by any remorse he’s showing.

This isn’t personal; it’s business. And suddenly, it’s as though his reaction gives me full permission to get everything off my chest that I’ve been wanting to say to him.

So I continue brazenly, letting it all out without much thought.

I think the yoga has relaxed all of my body, including my tongue.

‘I’ve already said to you that this feature is going to be written.

Right now, you’re not coming across as the kind of man people tell me you are – but that’s not my problem, it’s yours.

I write the truth of what I get to see. If you want to keep brushing me off as this tabloid journo here to ruin your life, then that’s up to you.

Mess me around, be the arrogant, selfish arsehole the press painted you as a lifetime ago.

But you have the choice to just be you .

I’ve said how I want this to play. I’ve made my intentions clear. Now, it’s on you.’

Whoa.

My rant has surprised even me. In my defence, all of that was true.

Normally, I wouldn’t tell a star athlete that he was coming across as an arrogant, selfish arsehole, but I get the feeling that Leo Silva needs to be spoken to plainly.

All cards on the table, no one trying to bullshit anyone else. I think he may appreciate that.

I hope so, anyway.

‘Okay,’ he says finally.

‘Okay what?’

‘Okay, let’s talk,’ he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘Are you free now?’

‘I… yeah. I am.’ I put a hand on my hip. ‘Where shall we go?’

With a hint of a smile, he gestures for me to follow him. ‘I know a place.’