Neon

by Elise Noble

  “Glad you like it.”

  “Now what?” Dan asked. “We just sit here listening to... What is this weird music?”

  “According to the website, they use brainwave entrainment stimuli to alter your brain state and help you relax.”

  “I'm not sure I like that idea.”

  “It's better than using dance music to alter your hearing ability, which is what you do every Saturday night.”

  Dan glared at him and closed her eyes, and he settled back, safe in the knowledge that he was right.

  An hour passed, maybe two, and all the girls except Emmy fell asleep. She'd slipped into the pool, floating round on her back with her eyes open. Thank goodness. If she drifted off and went on one of her little jaunts, the rest of them would be in trouble. Emmy had a terrible habit of trying to murder people in her sleep.

  Bradley felt tired too, but something wasn't right. He couldn't put his finger on it at first, but after a minute or two of thinking, it came to him. Cucumber. He needed cucumber for his eyes. Otherwise they'd go all puffy, and Cedar Ridge had banned make-up too.

  Careful to stay quiet, he slipped his feet into his flip-flops and crept off to find a member of staff, seeing as tile guy had disappeared a while back when Lara covered up.

  A while later, he began to regret his decision. Not only did he get lost trying to find reception because every pale green corridor looked the same, the left flip-flop was chafing at his toe and the trousers kept getting stuck in his ass crack. Then, when he finally did find a staff member, she acted as if he'd asked for a gold-plated pot of Creme de la Mer rather than a sliced vegetable.

  What seemed like an hour passed before he finally made his way back to the relaxation pool with a cucumber sliced far too thickly. What did they think he wanted to do, put it in a sandwich? Good luck with that, because they’d banned bread too.

  Hmm, was he going in the right direction this time? He'd paused in a hallway, trying to decide whether to go right or left, when an angry voice cut through the air.

  “Get the fuck off me.”

  Oh, sweet Michael Jackson, was that Emmy? He ran in her direction, cursing the flip-flops with every step. What the hell had happened?

  As he rounded the corner into the relaxation area, Emmy was in the pool fighting off the tile guy, who was trying to shove her arms into a rubber ring. Every time she made a grab for him, he slipped out of her grasp until Dan, Mack, and Carmen jumped in to help. By grabbing one limb each, they hauled him out of the pool, then Emmy sat on him. Probably made the guy's day.

  “What the fuck were you doing?”

  Tile guy coughed and spluttered as he tried to get his breath back. “I thought you were in trouble, floating in the pool like that.”

  Bradley marched up. “It's a flotation pool. That's what she's supposed to do.”

  “But she was face down, and she didn't move.”

  Oh, Emmy. “Is this true?”

  “I got bored and decided to see how long I could hold my breath.”

  Bradley exhaled a thin stream of air. “I'm terribly sorry. Sometimes she just doesn't think. Emmy, let the man up.”

  Tile guy scrambled to his feet, dripping, while Tia handed Emmy a towel.

  “Maybe we could try a different activity?” Bradley suggested, picking up his own towel and offering it to the hapless employee. “What have you got?”

  “Uh...” The man took a couple of paces back from Emmy's withering glare. “Maybe something a bit more physical. How about a session with one of our personal trainers?”

  “Great. Be a dear and set it up, would you?”

  He practically ran out of the door.

  CHAPTER 4

  “THIS IS GUNTHER,” tile guy announced after a light lunch. “He's got a fun, boot-camp-style workout lined up for you this afternoon. Have a great time!”

  Emmy, Mack, Dan, and Carmen lined up on the lawn in matching black sportswear as Gunther cracked his knuckles. “All right, ladies—let's see what you've got.”

  The big man set off at a run, arms and legs pumping, while Emmy rolled her eyes and led the team off after him.

  Tile guy turned to Bradley and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Gunther was in the German army—he's the toughest trainer we've got. I thought the girls might appreciate that.”

  “I'm sure they'll enjoy themselves.”

  “Do you think they'll be okay?” Lara asked. “That trainer looked scary.”

  She and Tia had cried off the exercise, citing a lack of coordination and a sprained ankle respectively. Funny how Tia's limp healed itself as soon as tile guy wandered out of sight.

  “They'll be fine. At least if they're tired, they might not complain as much. Why don't we sunbathe in the Zen garden until they get back?”

  “Great idea,” Tia said. “I'm going to get a book from the library first. Anyone want to join me?”

  Bradley lost all track of time, but by the time he wiped a tear away at the end of Pride and Prejudice, the light was beginning to fade, and he realised Emmy and co still hadn't come back. Dammit, where were they? He reached for his phone to give his boss a call, then realised he couldn't because of the stupid fricking rules.

  Should he ask at reception for help? Did Gunther carry a phone?

  “Where are the others?” Tia asked, opening her eyes and stretching her arms over her head.

  “I don't know.” He glanced at his empty wrist out of habit. “I'm thinking we should look for them.”

  “Don't worry—Emmy'll be fine.”

  “But it's getting dark.”

  “So? Emmy's half vampire.”

  “I'm not sure…” he started, then closed his mouth as five heads came into view at the end of the lawn.

  Gunther dragged his feet as Emmy and Dan half carried him across the grounds while Mack and Carmen ambled along behind.

  Bradley leapt to his feet. “What did you do to him?”

  “This is totally not our fault,” Dan said.

  “You destroyed a commando.”

  “He did most of it himself,” Emmy said. “First he went off at a speed he couldn't handle then he got lost. We tried to tell him he was going in the wrong direction, but he wouldn't listen.”

  Gunther groaned, then stumbled over to a decorative maple tree and threw up.

  Bradley put his hands on his hips. “How am I supposed to explain this to the manager?”

  Carmen patted him on the arm. “I'm sure you'll think of something. I'm hungry. Is it dinner time yet?”

  Why him? Bradley looked over at the exhausted trainer, now kneeling on the grass, and steeled himself for a difficult conversation with the resort manager, his second of the day. The woman hadn't been too impressed with Emmy's swimming pool stunt either. What had he done to deserve this?

  “This isn't food,” Carmen said, poking at a broccoli spear with her fork. “Everything's green.”

  “All our food is prepared by a nutritionist, ma'am,” a passing waiter told her.

  “It's healthy,” Bradley said. “Eating a balanced diet is important, and you've lived on tacos for the last week. Don't think I didn't notice the deliveries to the office every lunchtime.”

  “How are we supposed to survive on this? Do you know how many calories we burned carrying Gunther this afternoon?”

  “In that case, you can have two portions of organic quinoa.”

  “Sometimes I hate you.”

  Bradley grinned at her. “Then I'm doing my job right.”

  One drawback of Cedar Ridge was the lack of nightlife. The Sundown Spa offered a movie theatre, ballroom dancing lessons, and moonlit forest walks, but Cedar closed down right after dinner, leaving the guests to hang out in the library or chat over organic fruit tea.

  “Anybody want to play Scrabble?” he asked. The pamphlet in his room said there were board games in the lounge.

  Emmy pushed her chair back and yawned. “Actually, I think I'm gonna head for bed. That run earlier tired me out.”

  A
little surprising, but that saved Bradley from losing to a triple word score like he usually did. He looked around at the others. “How about you? Are you all going back to your rooms?”

  A chorus of nods and yeses came.

  “I'm going to read,” Mack said.

  Great—that meant he could start on the copy of Sense and Sensibility he'd borrowed earlier, not to mention planning out the activities for tomorrow. Somebody needed to keep the girls occupied.

  Bradley stared at the grid he'd drawn out with names across the top and activities down the side. After a quick chat with the receptionist, he'd block-booked a life coach, a tennis instructor, a beautician, and a massage therapist for tomorrow, but try as he might, he couldn't fit all the activities in. Would Lara prefer tennis or a pedicure? That one was easy. A pedicure. But he wasn't sure whether Tia would choose a massage over a manicure.

  What time was it? Honestly, this lack of clocks was turning into a joke, and he was tempted to sneak back to the car and retrieve his phone. No, no, he couldn't. Not when he insisted on everyone else going incommunicado for three days. It wouldn't be fair.

  There was nothing else for it, he'd have to pop next door and ask Tia. Surely she wouldn’t mind being woken up for something so important?

  Bradley slipped on his bathrobe and gave the flip-flops a dirty look as he tiptoed barefoot into the corridor. Tia first, then he'd check whether Dan wanted to play tennis or get a facial.

  Only when he knocked on Tia's door, she didn't answer. He tried again, harder, but still nothing, even when he called her name. It was the same with Dan. Silence.

  Dan had always been a light sleeper, so that left him worried, more so when Carmen, Lara, and Mack didn't answer either. Where were they? His heart beat faster as he realised he had no choice but to try Emmy. Waking her was like prodding Satan with a sharp stick.

  He knocked quietly, kind of hoping she didn't answer, but a minute later the door cracked open a few inches and her eye appeared in the gap. “Yes?”

  “I can't wake any of the others. It's like they're not there.”

  “Oh.” Emmy pressed her lips together. “That's because they're in here.”

  “Why? I thought you were going to bed. Are you having fun and you didn't invite me?” Bradley felt hurt at the thought. These girls were his best friends, and they'd left him out of their plans. He gave a little sniff, then... “Hang on, why does your room smell like cheeseburger?”

  “Shit.”

  Bradley shoved the door and found the rest of the girls sitting on the floor, the remains of the non-sanctioned meal they'd just shared on the floor between them. His eyes narrowed.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “The food fairy came.”

  “Emmy...”

  “Okay, okay. Me and Mack jogged to the diner. We saw it in the distance when Gunther got us lost today.”

  “I can’t believe you did this. One weekend, that's all you had to behave for.” And worse, they hadn't saved him any fries. Or cheesecake. And was that chocolate on the corner of Lara's mouth?

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “Yes, it is. Give me your cash and all your credit cards.”

  “Lighten up. It was only a few snacks.”

  He put a hand out. “Now.”

  Sulkily, the girls handed everything over. Emmy's Amex, Dan's platinum, and the rest. They'd brought thirty-thousand dollars in cash between them. Good grief.

  “Right. I'm keeping this until we get home. We've got two more days left, and you're going to behave, because otherwise I'm going to ban Mrs. Fairfax from making her chocolate fudge cake ever again.”

  Mrs. Fairfax, Emmy's housekeeper, made the best cakes ever, and the threat worked. Five girls shuffled off to their rooms as he gave Emmy one last glare and slammed the door.

  Those damn girls. He loved and hated them at the same time.

  CHAPTER 5

  ON SATURDAY MORNING, five girls picked at their breakfast—hardly surprising considering what they ate the night before.

  “Where's Dan?” Bradley asked, tilting his head towards the empty seat as he picked at his organic yogurt. The buffet table offered four different flavours, and they all tasted disgusting.

  “She went out jogging. Something about getting down with nature,” Emmy said.

  Well, at least one of them had seen the error of her ways. After all, the calming environment with its forests and streams was one of the reasons they'd come to Cedar Ridge in the first place.

  And her jaunt looked to have worked too, because when Dan sauntered in towards the end of the meal she wore a relaxed smile with her cotton outfit.

  “Good run?” Bradley asked.

  “The best.”

  “Did you go far?”

  “Nope. Just as far as the hot lumberjack we saw while we were out with Gunther yesterday. Turns out he is single.”

  Oh, Dan. “You didn't...?”

  “Too damn fucking right I did. Twice. We're supposed to be here to relax, right? And what better way to relax than getting pounded from behind over a log?”

  A middle-aged lady at the next table spat a mouthful of peppermint tea all over the white tablecloth, and Bradley leapt in with a handful of napkins, full of apologies.

  “I'm so sorry about my friend—she's just joking.”

  “No she isn't,” Emmy said, grinning. She wound people up for sport.

  “Be quiet,” Bradley hissed, as he prepared himself to apologise to the manager once more. “You've got a life-coaching session in half an hour, and you're damn well going to enjoy it.”

  “What the hell is life-coaching? I've already got enough trainers at home.”

  “He'll help you identify and achieve your goals.”

  “My goal is to have pizza for dinner this evening. What's he going to do? Lend me twenty bucks and drive me to the restaurant?”

  “Please, just try it. For Mack's sake.”

  Mack looked up from the porridge she'd been stirring for the past ten minutes. “I'm with Emmy on the pizza.”

  A miracle happened, and Bradley only needed to apologise once before lunch, when the girls got a little enthusiastic in their tennis match and bruised the coach's ego as well as his genitals.

  After a woefully inadequate lunch of an egg-white omelette with asparagus, a pretty masseuse soothed away his aches and pains before dinner. At least Tia had a smile on her face as they all sat down for...

  “What the hell is this?” Emmy poked at the white-ish lumps on her plate. “Tofu?”

  Dan popped a forkful in her mouth. “Doesn't taste of anything, so probably.”

  “Look on the bright side, we've only got one more day in hell, and my nails look great,” Tia said, holding out a hand. Sure enough, each digit was topped with shiny dark red polish.

  “Emmy, you should get yours done like that,” Dan said. “They're perfect for the wicked queen.”

  “I'm game if Carmen's game. We share that title.”

  “Deal.”

  Emmy fell silent for a few seconds before dropping her cutlery on the table. “I've gone more than twenty-four hours without coffee. Look.” She held out her hand. “I'm bloody shaking.”

  “You never used to be this bad,” Bradley said. “Since the whole Colombian episode you've been mainlining the damn stuff.”

  “Eduardo bought a coffee plantation, and he keeps sending me samples.”

  “At least he isn't sending you his other products.”

  “Look, I just need a coffee.”

  “No, you need to cut down, and going cold turkey is the best way. Mack, how's your headache?”

  She popped a piece of carrot into her mouth and chewed slowly. “Odd. It's a little better.”

  “That's because you haven't spent the last two days staring at a screen. Dan didn't manage to abstain, but Carmen, going without your gun for two days hasn't killed you, has it?”

  “Not me, but every day I spend away from the range my accuracy drops by a millimetre,
and that could be the difference between life and death.”

  “Now you're just being melodramatic. Look, Tia's survived in these awful clothes.”

  Tia held the fabric away from her neck and grimaced. “At least you admit they're horrible now.”

  “And Lara's done okay without dessert.” Lara also hadn't eaten the plate full of vegetables, and Bradley couldn't blame her.

  She tried a smile, but it was shaky. “I suppose I do eat too much chocolate.”

  “There we go. This place is mostly good for us.”

  Bradley felt like the biggest fraud in Virginia as he changed into his new Versace jeans and a cashmere sweater. A soft moan escaped his lips as its softness embraced him. For all his lectures to Emmy, he hated this bloody place and its regimented rules. Ah, his silver cowboy boots felt so good after those awful flip-flops. Custom made with platinum spurs on the back, they'd cost Emmy a fortune when she bought them for him last Christmas.

  His stomach rumbled as he fished the key to Carmen's G-Wagon out of the specially hollowed-out shampoo bottle he'd hidden it in and stepped over to the window. Food. He needed proper food, and thankfully he'd had the forethought to pack a nice selection in case a situation like this arose.

  The window squeaked a little as he raised it, and he paused before carrying on more slowly and throwing one leg over the window sill. Once he'd dropped to the ground he paused, looking to the right in case any of the girls happened to be taking in the starry night. Nope, all the curtains were tightly drawn.

  “Going somewhere?” Emmy asked.

  Bradley clutched at his chest. Where was she? His eyes darted among the shadows, but still he saw nothing until she stepped out from behind an old maple tree, dressed in dark colours from head to toe.

  “How did you get out here?”

  “Used the door like any normal fucker. You didn't answer my question.”

  “Uh, I needed to stretch my legs.”

  “Bullshit. You spent the whole afternoon on the massage table and leg stretching wasn't a problem then. Nice outfit, by the way.”