Page 36

"Five breaths together," Lila said softly. "Just feeling this connection."

Serena closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of Lila's palm against hers.

She could feel both their pulses, slightly mismatched rhythms gradually synchronizing with each shared breath.

The simplicity of the contact felt more intimate than the heated kisses they'd exchanged. More deliberate. More present.

When she opened her eyes, Lila was watching her with an expression that made Serena's breath catch—open and warm and full of something too complicated to name.

"Thank you for practicing with me," Lila said, the traditional closing transformed into something more personal by the way she continued holding Serena's hand.

"Thank you for teaching me," Serena replied, meaning far more than just the yoga.

They remained that way for a moment, neither quite willing to break the connection.

The ocean continued its endless conversation with the shore, waves building and breaking in a rhythm that had remained unchanged for millennia.

Against that timeless backdrop, eleven days didn't seem like nearly enough.

But it was what they had. And Serena was beginning to understand that time—like everything else of value—was measured in quality, not just quantity.

"Would you like to stay for a while?" Lila asked as they gathered their mats, her voice casual though something in her eyes suggested the question was anything but. "The tide's still going out. It's a perfect time for walking along the shoreline."

The digital calendar that usually ran Serena's life flashed automatically through her mind—meetings, calls, emails that demanded attention.

But she'd already rearranged her morning, and for once, the thought of spreadsheets and strategy documents held less appeal than the woman standing before her with sand clinging to her feet.

"I'd like that," Serena said, surprised by how easily the acceptance came.

They left their mats and bags at the edge of the beach, walking barefoot along the wet sand where the waves had recently retreated. The morning sun warmed Serena's shoulders through her fitted top, a pleasant sensation that matched the unfamiliar lightness in her chest.

"I want to know more about Vivienne Blackwood," Lila said after they'd walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes. "If you're willing to talk about it."

Serena glanced sideways, surprised by the direct question. Most people in her life had learned to approach sensitive subjects with careful indirection. But Lila wasn't most people.

"That's not typically vacation conversation," Serena replied, testing the boundaries of this new honesty between them.

"Neither is anything else about you," Lila countered with a smile that softened the observation. "You don't strike me as someone who does typical vacations."

Serena laughed despite herself, the sound still unfamiliar to her own ears. "Fair point. Though this hardly qualifies as a vacation. More like a strategic retreat."

"Is that what you told your board? That you were making a strategic retreat?"

"God, no." Serena shook her head, remembering the awkward board meeting that had precipitated her island exile. "That would have been tantamount to admitting defeat. I called it a 'focused planning period to develop comprehensive counter-measures.'"

"Of course you did," Lila said, her laughter mingling with the sound of waves. "Corporate speak for 'I need a minute to breathe.'"

They reached a natural outcropping of rocks, smoothed by centuries of tides. Lila climbed onto a flat surface and offered her hand. Serena took it, allowing herself to be guided up onto the sun-warmed stone. They settled side by side, legs stretched toward the ocean, shoulders almost touching.

"It started at a charity gala," Serena found herself saying, the words forming before she'd fully decided to share them. "One of those black-tie events where Manhattan's elite pat themselves on the back for writing tax-deductible checks while drinking twelve-thousand-dollar champagne."

Lila listened without interruption, her attention complete and focused in a way few people ever offered.

"Vivienne approached me during cocktails.

Said she admired what Frost Innovations had done for financial security systems and wanted to discuss potential applications for the fashion industry.

" Serena traced a pattern in the stone with one finger, recalling the moment with perfect clarity.

"I was skeptical at first. Fashion isn't exactly known for its technological innovation. "

"But she convinced you," Lila prompted gently when Serena paused.

"She was... compelling. Brilliant in her own field.

Passionate about protecting customer data.

" The memory still stung with the particular pain of misplaced trust. "We talked until the event staff started breaking down tables.

Two CEOs skipping dinner to discuss database architecture and encryption protocols. "

Serena looked out at the horizon, feeling the familiar tension creeping up her neck. "I should have recognized it for what it was: a fishing expedition masked as genuine interest. But she asked the right questions. Technical questions most fashion executives wouldn't know to ask."

"You respected her," Lila observed.

"Yes." The admission felt like giving something away. "I did. We scheduled a proper meeting the following week, which led to a formal collaboration agreement, confidentiality provisions, the works."

A wave crashed against the rocks below them, sending up a fine spray that caught the sunlight. Serena wiped a droplet from her arm, buying time to order her thoughts.

"For six months, we worked closely. My team designed a custom security system for her company's expanding e-commerce platform.

We shared proprietary information under strict protocols.

I attended her runway shows; she visited our R those we can defend against. She did it through people.

" The betrayal still burned, even here, thousands of miles from Manhattan.

"She systematically identified my key engineers and offered them ridiculously inflated salaries to jump ship.

They took our code, our architecture, and our research with them. "

"That's awful," Lila said softly. "And illegal, surely?"

"In theory. In practice, it's remarkably difficult to prove which lines of code originated where when your own former employees helped blur those lines. Non-competes are notoriously hard to enforce, and Vivienne's lawyers are every bit as cutthroat as she is."

Serena hadn't realized how tightly she was clenching her jaw until Lila's fingers gently touched her cheek, a silent reminder to release the tension.

"Three days before our joint product launch, she announced Blackwood's proprietary security system. She used our own technology to secure an exclusive contract with the Fashion Retailers Alliance before we could even respond."

"And the board blamed you," Lila guessed, connecting dots Serena hadn't explicitly drawn.

"Some did. Others just questioned my judgment.

After all, I was the one who pushed for the collaboration.

I was the one who granted access to our systems." Serena let out a dry, humorless laugh.

"The worst part was the press narrative.

Vivienne played it perfectly—the fashion visionary disrupting tech's old guard.

I came across as a dinosaur who didn't see the meteor coming. "

"That's not fair," Lila protested.

"Fair has nothing to do with business," Serena replied automatically, then paused, reconsidering. "Though in this case, you're right. It wasn't fair. It was a deliberate betrayal masked as a business strategy."

They sat in silence for a moment, the rhythm of waves filling the space between words. Serena waited for the familiar surge of anger that usually accompanied thoughts of Vivienne, but something different happened instead. With each word shared, the story seemed to lose some of its power over her.

"What bothers you most about it?" Lila asked, her question cutting through layers of corporate maneuvering to something more personal.

Serena considered this, allowing herself the luxury of honest self-examination that she rarely permitted in New York. "That I didn't see it coming. That I mistook calculated manipulation for genuine connection."

The parallel to her failed marriage wasn't lost on her, though she left that comparison unspoken.

"Or maybe what really bothers me is that I let my guard down at all," she continued, following the thought to its logical conclusion.

"Professional relationships should remain professional.

The moment I considered Vivienne a friend rather than a business associate, I created a vulnerability she exploited. "

Lila was quiet for a long moment, her eyes on the distant horizon. "That's one interpretation," she said finally. "Another might be that trust itself isn't the problem. Choosing who to trust is."

"Isn't that just semantics?" Serena countered.

"I don't think so. One perspective leads to isolation—never trusting anyone. The other leads to discernment—learning to recognize who deserves trust and who doesn't."

The distinction felt significant, though Serena wasn't entirely convinced. "And how exactly does one develop this magical discernment? Because clearly my judgment in this area is off."

Instead of answering immediately, Lila turned to face her fully. "Do you trust me, Serena?"