“Come on,” I say, fussing with the settings on my phone.
The sauna on Ilmari’s back patio has built-in speakers that let you connect via Bluetooth. I just have to get it to recognize my device. I’ve pressed the reset button twice. Now I’m trying to reset my phone too.
“Stupid piece of—aha—” I cut off my insult as I hear Dua Lipa’s “Levitating” pulsing from inside the sauna.
Ilmari has a great patio. Like most Florida homes, it has a cage extending from the edge of the house and out over a micro pool with a stone pool deck. The only light out here comes from inside the pool, which glows an eerie pale blue.
I’ve done the odd steam room before, but until last night I’d never tried a sauna. It’s safe to say I’m a convert. There’s something about the smell of the wooden walls as they heat. It’s the best kind of aromatherapy. I left the sauna last night feeling almost high. It was amazing. I’ve been waiting all day to do it again.
Well, the dog has been walked, I’ve got chardonnay chilling in the fridge, and I made myself an epic salad I intend to devour after this pamper session. I’ll sit on Ilmari’s super comfortable couch and watch his TV, and tonight I’m sleeping in his bedroom that looks and feels like an IKEA showroom.
This is my life now. New year, new Tess.
But first…the plunge.
“You can do it. In and out. Quick like a cat.”
I’ve got my hair tied up in a messy bun and a beach towel wrapped around me as I eye the steps of the pool.
“Do it,” I say again, nerves firing all over my body. “3—2—1—”
Dropping the towel to my feet, I squeal like a little girl and rush down the steps naked. I sink into Ilmari’s freezing cold pool. There’s a privacy fence that juts out to either side of the condo, blocking me from view of the neighbors. And I didn’t turn any of the patio lights on, so even a creeper with binoculars wouldn’t get much of a show.
“Fuck—ahh—this is the worst,” I cry, teeth chattering. Tears sting my eyes as I feel my nipples sharpen to deadly points. In moments, I’m laughing, stumbling up out of the pool.
Leaving the towel on the ground, I wrench open the sauna door and step inside. The interior lights glow softly as the heater hums. I shut the door behind me, taking a deep breath of hot air. That scent of cedar fills my lungs as I close my eyes, loving the glorious sting of the heat as it kisses every inch of my dripping wet skin. I turn and sit on the soft, white towel I set out on the wooden bench. I stretch my arms out to the sides and then up, reaching for the ceiling.
The past two days, I’ve been doing sunrise yoga on the beach, and my body aches. It feels strange to have the time for yoga. My job is demanding, to say the least. Between the long hours, the travel, and the mandatory socializing with clients, exercise has always felt like a luxury I can’t afford.
I hum along to the music for a few minutes before I start to get that dizzy feeling of overheating. Taking a deep breath, I hurry out of the sauna and walk straight back into Ilmari’s pool. The cold water tingles against my burning skin, and I get that rush, that high that has me smiling ear to ear. I wade in the shallow end for a minute or two before I step out and hop right back in the sauna.
I continue my cycle of hot sauna and cold pool for three more songs before I feel ready for a glass of wine. Leaving my towel behind, I saunter naked into the condo and head for the refrigerator. The heat from the sauna all but dried the water off my skin, so it’s not like I’m dripping wet.
And look, I’m a girl of simple tastes. I like cheap wine and expensive cheese. I’ve got four bottles of chardonnay chilling in the fridge that I picked up at Publix on a buy-one-get-one sale. They’ve got the screw top caps and everything. I don’t need a cork slowing me down.
I can just barely hear the music outside as I sway to the beat, pouring myself a glass of the chilled wine. The only light on in here comes from above the stove, casting out a soft yellow glow.
I glance over my shoulder to the living room to see Poseidon passed out on his checkered donut pillow. I kept him busy all weekend with trips to the beach and the coffee shop. He’s been a good—
I gasp as he suddenly leaps off his pillow, wide awake and barking his head off, his teeth bared.
“Sy, what—”
My words stop short as I nearly drop my glass of wine. My gaze is locked on the wall of glass leading out to the patio. A man is standing there. He’s wearing a dark hoodie with his hood pulled up, his face in shadow. I’m looking at him and he’s looking at me while the dog barks like crazy. His reflection wavers as he moves, and I realize Sy is facing the entryway, not the glass wall.
That’s when I scream.
The man isn’t out on the patio. He’s inside the house.
