Page 35 of The Retreat

The room was quiet as Rebecca went over the ground rules for the second workshop of the day.

Talia sat at the front, doing her best to appear engaged.

But her mind was not in the room.

It was in that bloody conservatory.

The yoga session that morning had been the very last thing she needed.

Pressing herself up against Imogen like that had almost broken her.

But the demanded eye contact had been even worse.

Her cheeks flushed now just thinking about it.

How much had Imogen seen in her eyes?

She pushed the thought away and sat up straighter.

This wasn’t yoga.

This was a corporate-style workshop, the kind of environment where she excelled, where she could be the Talia she wanted to be.

Not the horny idiot who climbed into people’s beds and sweated having to look someone in the eye.

But her best self, her strongest self.

Conflict resolution wasn’t just familiar to her; it was where she lived.

She remembered a particularly thorny case from the previous year when two rival tech companies (both longstanding clients) had gone head-to-head in a dispute over IP ownership after a collapsed joint venture.

Each side claimed rights to the same proprietary algorithm, and the threat of injunctions was growing louder by the hour.

Talia had been brought in as lead counsel for one of them.

She’d dissected the original partnership agreement clause by clause, identified the single ambiguous sentence everything hinged on, and used it to negotiate a settlement that kept the case out of court.

Her counterpart had grudgingly admitted it was ‘elegantly handled,’ and Celeste had called her strategy ‘impressively surgical.’

But this wasn’t a clean boardroom mediation.

This was roleplay in a room full of strangers in a venue that smelled faintly of floor wax and herbal tea.

And worst of all, Imogen was here.

Somewhere behind her. Watching.

She shook that thought off. She could handle this.

‘Alright, folks,’ Rebecca said, looking pleased as punch. ‘I’d like you participate in a role-play exercise. The scenario is this: you and your colleague have a work-related conflict that needs resolving. There’s been some sort of disagreement, and you’re trying to navigate through it. The challenge is to argue with clarity and respect. No shouting, no insults. Just a disagreement that’s handled professionally. Got it?’

She checked her clipboard. ‘We’ll start with… Talia and Daniel.’

Talia felt Lady Luck’s intervention. Or maybe Celeste’s. It was unlikely to be pure coincidence that she was going head-to-head with her professional rival. But if this was a job interview? Fine. Good, even. She’d wipe the floor with that posh boy.

Daniel sauntered over with his usual self-satisfaction, dragging a chair as if he’d just been asked to deliver a TED Talk.

‘This’ll be fun,’ he said, dropping into the seat. ‘Try not to cry when I win.’

Talia picked up her chair and placed it quietly opposite him, giving him a flat look. ‘Daniel. This is conflict resolution. Nobody wins.’

He grinned. ‘We’ll see.’

They took their places near the centre of the room, and Rebecca gave them a moment to prepare. Talia took a breath and fixed her gaze on Daniel, letting her professional instincts surface. It didn’t matter whatever else was going on inside her; this part—she could do.

‘OK,’ Rebecca began. ‘Talia, you’re the one who feels wronged. Daniel, you missed a deadline. Five minutes. Begin.’

She didn’t rush. She let the pause stretch a little and then said evenly, ‘You told me I’d have the paperwork by end of day Friday. I didn’t get them until Monday afternoon. That delay pushed everything else back and made me look like I was the one holding things up. I need to know if I can count on your timelines.’

Daniel leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed leisurely over the other. ‘Ah yes, the Friday fantasy. I remember it well,’ he said, amused.

She blinked. ‘Would you like another go at that response?’

His smile faltered. ‘Look, I admit I was late,’ he said. ‘But a lot was happening on my end that you don’t know.’

‘You could’ve flagged it,’ Talia said calmly.

‘I assumed you’d manage.’

Talia narrowed her eyes. ‘So, you assumed I’d just clean up your mess quietly?’

‘No,’ Daniel said, the grin faltering. ‘I assumed you were capable. I guess I overestimated.’

A flicker of tension rippled through the room. Someone sucked in a sharp breath. Daniel noticed and tried to walk it back.

‘OK, poor choice of words. I didn’t mean it like that. Look, it all worked out in the end, right?’ he said, struggling to be Mr Chill now.

‘It did work out, after some extra time on my part that I could ill afford,’ Talia replied, arms folded now. Her voice had sharpened. Her posture had stiffened. ‘Maybe I’m not shouting about my deadlines, but that doesn’t mean they don’t matter.’

Daniel gave a small laugh, nervous now. ‘Alright, alright. Point made. I’ll loop you in the next time I can’t make the deadline. How’s that?’

Talia sighed and glanced across the room, and that’s when it happened: she caught Imogen’s eye.

Imogen’s gaze was steady and even, but it hit Talia like a jolt. Talia’s mind wobbled. She turned back to Daniel and spoke without thinking.

‘That’s not an apology, first off,’ she said, her voice quieter now, tight. ‘Second, when someone says they’ll be there and then they’re not—when they say something they don’t mean—it’s a big deal. It feels like you’re the idiot for believing them. And you tell yourself not to be so naive next time, but the damage’s already done.’

Daniel blinked, unsettled. ‘Talia—’

‘It’s not just the delay,’ she continued, her throat closing. ‘It’s the erosion. It’s what it does to trust. I can’t build anything with someone who keeps chipping away at that, Flora.’

A beat passed. Talia caught up to her own words. Jesus fucking Christ, had she just called Daniel Flora?!

‘What?’ Daniel asked, confused.

‘Daniel,’ she said quickly, but it was too late. But she kept going anyway. ‘I was trying to say Daniel, but then a, er, fly flew into my throat,’ Talia blurted, stepping back.

Daniel’s eyes widened. ‘Jesus! Is it still in there?’

‘Maybe. I think I just need to cough it up.’ She nodded briskly. ‘Thanks, Daniel. That was... enlightening.’ She stood.

‘Somebody get her some water,’ Daniel said, recoiling slightly. ‘She’s eaten an insect.’

Talia moved from her chair quickly, back into the general population—but nowhere near Imogen—trying to move with purpose, to mask the clumsiness of her exit.

Rebecca said quickly, ‘Let’s move on to the next pair.’ Talia barely heard her as she grabbed a seat in the back. She was hoping no one would remember she used to have a girlfriend called Flora. If they didn’t, they might buy the fly thing. Daniel certainly had.

But there was one woman who most certainly would know that name and what it meant. Talia could only hope she wouldn’t make a big deal of it.