Goddess, p.21
Goddess, page 21
Jack’s face turned serious. He waited for me to go on. I hadn’t planned any of this but I knew exactly what I wanted to say.
“I have this thing, because of my mom I think, and maybe my ex too — I’m completely allergic to criticism. Or at least, what I perceive as criticism.”
I knew in my gut it was true. In our astrology session, Celeste had said I would tend to seek out romantic relationships that repeated a familial dynamic. My mom had always been hypercritical of me, and after I had cut her out of my life, I’d found someone new who was just as disparaging. Owen had used a different approach — more belittling, more gaslighting — but it had the same effect. They both had a way of making me feel constantly fearful, like I was always on the verge of messing up.
I pressed on. “When you were questioning my decision to come here, I overreacted. I saw it as judgement, as you not trusting me.”
“But that wasn’t it at all,” Jack said.
“I know that now. But it’s hard for me to recognize it in the moment. I think everyone is doubting me all the time because my mother always doubted me as a child. And now I doubt myself. I see now that you were only looking out for me. Encouraging me to write for me, not for anyone else.”
He nodded. “That’s really all I meant by it.”
“So, can you forgive me?”
He laughed lightly. “Of course, Agnes. I already have.”
“Good.” I exhaled. My whole body felt lighter.
“So, how’s the Summit going?” he asked. “You look different.”
“Do I?”
“You look good, refreshed.”
I smiled. “Jack, I need to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about Geia.”
He got up to move away from the pool and his splashing daughters. “What about her?”
I hesitated. What was the best strategy here? I couldn’t come right out and ask him about everything I’d seen: the night of the moon, all the weirdness on the island.
“She was born here, right?”
Jack nodded.
“Does she still have family on the island?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
That struck me as odd. “No one?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I thought I might like to interview her family. For the article.”
Jack frowned. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. I’ve never actually met her family.”
That was even more odd. “Never? Why’s that?”
He paused. “They’re estranged.”
“Ah, okay. Well, is there anyone you think I should talk to on Mastika? Maybe one of her staff?”
“Agnes, what kind of article are you writing? I told you to be careful. Geia’s going to expect a glowing review of her Goddess Summit. Nothing less.”
The word glowing made me pause. I couldn’t ask him, could I?
“Jack, in the Hamptons, I saw something . . . weird.”
His frown persisted. “What did you see?”
“Geia. She was out on the lawn, late at night. She was with Kathari. It was a full moon.” I exhaled slowly.
Just do it, Agnes. You can trust Jack.
“It was like she and the snake, they were . . . glowing. Like the moon was making them glow or something? Is that possible?”
“Maybe you were dreaming,” Jack said, looking away.
I shook my head. “I wasn’t.”
Jack looked at me and I could tell he was holding back. There was something he wasn’t saying.
“Jack, if you know something . . .”
“I don’t . . . I can’t.”
“I feel like I’m going crazy over here. Please.”
He sighed heavily. “Agnes, I can’t help you. Not really. But, well, maybe I can help you find clarity for yourself.”
“What does that mean?”
He paused. “There’s a special hike on Mastika. To the top of the mountain. I think you need to do that hike.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Just trust me, okay? I think maybe you’ll find the answers you’re looking for there.”
30
Goddess™ Summit — Day 6
I woke before sunrise and dressed in the dark. I donned the workout clothes I hadn’t touched since arriving and put on my running shoes. I moved swiftly downstairs and through the lobby, glancing only briefly at the front desk. Neither Amara nor Dimitra were working yet. Outside in the courtyard, Ellen was waiting for me.
“Ready?” I asked.
She yawned and nodded in response.
We didn’t need directions; we knew the way. When Ava had taken us on our nature walk, we passed a fork in the trail. Today we would take the path on the right, up the mountain.
As we walked away from the hotel, the light around us began to lift, the first bit of yellow bleeding into blues and greens on the horizon. It was still cool. Goosebumps bloomed all over me. I was glad I had thought to ask Ellen to join me on the hike. I didn’t know what I was going to find, but I felt better having a friend with me.
“Are you nervous about hypnotherapy?” I asked Ellen, our footsteps crunching on the gravel.
Last night at dinner, there had been more rumours about the day’s session with Sloane Devine. More whispers of levitation, this time about a woman named Maya. I got Skye to point out Maya to me; she was sitting with her pod nearby. I had seen her around the hotel. She was tall and she always wore colourful headscarves tied around her braids. It differentiated her from the mob of white dresses.
“Kind of.” Ellen took a sip from her water bottle. “But excited too. If it’s as life-changing as everyone says it is, I’m down.”
“What do you make of all this levitation stuff?”
She moved her head from side to side. “I don’t know. Sloane’s method isn’t just hypnosis, apparently. I’m told it also involves energy healing. I’ve never done reiki, but I’ve seen videos of the practice. People’s bodies often contort in weird ways. Maybe that’s what people are seeing.”
I considered that. It was as good an explanation as any.
I had kept a close eye on Maya throughout dinner. During dessert, Geia approached her table to whisper something in her ear. The other women in the pod gaped as Geia and Maya left the beach together, just like Geia and Claire the night before. I didn’t know what Geia was doing with these women, but it had to be connected to whatever was happening in hypnotherapy. It was like they were being selected for something.
The main road was empty save for a couple on a moped, driving too fast around a sharp corner. The woman clutched the man from behind. Neither of them wore helmets. When they passed, the woman looked at me with terrified eyes. For a moment, her fear felt contagious. But then I remembered Jack had sent me on this adventure. He wouldn’t lead me anywhere dangerous.
We located the start of the trail and when we reached the fork, we took the path on the right. We climbed steadily for an hour. We passed countless mastika trees, recognizable by their thin, crooked trunks and bushy tops. They smelled like the liqueur: sweet pine and spruce. When we saw a natural spring on the mountainside, Ellen finished the last of her water and refilled her bottle, offering me a drink. Cold and clean, it felt like ice going down my throat.
“So, be honest,” Ellen said, as we continued on our way. “You’re not just a writer here to sort out your life, are you?”
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“I’m on to you, Agnes Oliver. Let me guess. You’re here undercover to expose the dirty underbelly of Geia Stone’s wellness cult?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Warm?” she asked.
“Room temperature.” I guessed now was as good a time as any to spill the beans. Ellen wouldn’t care that I was writing an article, especially when Geia herself had asked me to.
“It was Geia’s idea. I’m writing a piece for Vogue about the Summit. Though it’s less an undercover exposé and more an honest discussion of what Geia’s trying to do with Goddess.”
Ellen’s face lit up. “Vogue? That’s big time, Agnes. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“You don’t sound very excited.”
I sighed. “I have no idea what I’m doing these days. I’m supposed to be working on my second novel, but then this article came along, and it’s just, like, I don’t even remember how to write anymore. Literally, I have no good ideas.”
Ellen smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“I thought, after publishing my first book, it would get easier. I thought I would finally feel like a writer. But I don’t, at all. How can I be on the New York Times bestseller list and still feel like a total fraud?”
Ellen stepped carefully, navigating a narrow patch of the trail. The path was getting more rugged as we climbed higher up the mountain.
“Success is funny, Agnes. In my experience, it’s a moving target. When I was first starting out in Hollywood, I had all these clear goals in mind, but as soon as I achieved them, I set my sights on even higher goals. I was never satisfied. Never. Until, you know, my breakdown. Now, I take a minute every time I accomplish something to celebrate my victory. I honour myself and all the hard work I’ve put into my success.”
“But what does that look like?” Her point about success being a never-ending story rang true for me. The big book deal, the tour, all the reviews; none of it was enough. I had no idea how to truly celebrate my accomplishments.
“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” Ellen said. “And it can be different every time. Sometimes, I take myself out to lunch. Sometimes, I buy myself a gift, something special and extravagant, to mark the occasion. The key is that it’s just about me, no one else. Me and my work, my achievement. I think success should be a private relationship, between just you and your work. Or, in your case, you and your writing.”
I liked what she was saying — all those bookstore readings had made me feel like my success rested in the hands of other people — but I wasn’t sure a solo lunch or a new purse would really do the trick.
“Maybe you haven’t properly honoured the success of Violets in Her Lap,” Ellen continued, ducking under a branch. “Maybe that’s why you’re not able to write.”
“I just don’t know how to honour it properly.”
Ellen smiled. “Well, no better place to meditate on that than here at the Summit.”
The sun peeked over the side of the mountain. The sky was now a brilliant orange. We stopped briefly to watch the sun take flight, floating above the surface of the earth.
As we got closer to the crest of the mountain, the vegetation changed, becoming sparser. The last stretch was yellow rock, dry and dusty, with a few hardy bushes. It reminded me of Athens: the rugged outcrop of the Acropolis.
When we finally reached the top, I breathed deeply, taking in the view. We could see almost the entire island. Green everywhere. The clump of buildings in town. The hotel. A few farms and not much else. The forever sea.
Ellen sat on a rock and drank the last of her water. “I needed that hike. It feels like ages since I’ve had a good workout.”
“Mm.” I nodded, distracted.
I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. Jack had told me to hike the mountain, but nothing here explained anything about Geia or what I’d seen in the Hamptons. I looked around. The summit was rocky, mostly flat. On the other side from where we came, I noticed another footpath leading down the mountain.
“Where are you going?” Ellen asked, as I started to wind my way down the path.
“Just exploring,” I called.
A few metres down, hidden behind a clump of bush, was a rock that seemed to have a doorway in it. My chest fluttered. Could this be what Jack wanted me to find? I had to bend down to cross the threshold, but once inside, I was in a cave about twice as tall as me and four times as long and wide. The first rays of the sun illuminated the entrance, offering just enough light to see by.
“Hey,” Ellen said, appearing behind me. “What is this?”
“I don’t know.”
We ventured deeper inside and my eyes soon adjusted to the semi-dark. The cave was empty, nothing really to see. I turned to go, disappointed, but Ellen gestured towards the back of the cave.
“Look,” she said.
My stomach dropped. There was a statue carved into the rock face, small enough that it wasn’t immediately noticeable. I walked towards it. The sculpture was of a hand holding a cup, encircled by a snake. Was this what Jack had wanted me to see? But what did it mean? Aside from the snake, there was something familiar about the cup, but I couldn’t put my finger on where I’d seen it before.
“Ew,” Ellen said in disgust. “What is that?”
I shifted my gaze from the sculpture to look at the ground where she was pointing. A pile of dirty rags had been left directly below the statue. Most looked old and faded, but the one on top looked more recent. It was stained bright red — the scrap of a T-shirt. I nudged it with my shoe. Ellen squealed. Beneath the red fabric, a clump of hair. Long and dark. It looked human.
31
When Ellen and I returned from our early-morning hike, we rushed to get ready for the day’s first workshop, which was on breathwork. I then skipped lunch so I could go back to my room and write about what we had seen on the mountain. I didn’t know what it meant, or how it connected to Geia, but it must have been important if Jack had led me there. I drew a quick sketch of the sculpture so it would be fresh in my mind. The cup felt so familiar to me, but I still couldn’t place it. Where had I seen it before?
That afternoon, all Summit attendees were invited to a clean-beauty demonstration, co-led by Geia herself. The demo was held in a large tent next to the Goddess™ Market. The space was packed, and I was late; I found a wooden pole to lean against at the back of the tent. I scanned the crowd, looking for my pod members. I saw a lot of white. Everyone was wearing the white dress now, except me and a few others. Even Pearl had caved.
I tried to get a better look at the stage. From back here, it would be hard to see the actual makeup application. The stage backdrop was a lush green wall of woven flowers and leafy vines. The word Goddess floated in the middle in white. It reminded me of my book cover. There were two chairs set up, plus a small table with — I squinted — what looked like a mirror and an assortment of Goddess™ makeup products. I only recognized it as Goddess™ because of the familiar blush-pink packaging.
The crowd chattered in quiet excitement. Soon, a Goddess™ staff member walked onto the stage and the crowd grew quiet. She wore a microphone headset, and with her white dress, she looked like some kind of spiritual guru.
“Good afternoon,” she said, as all eyes were on her. “Welcome to Clean Beauty 101. I’m thrilled to introduce our guest and mentor for today’s workshop, renowned makeup creative Chanel Hadley.”
Applause from the crowd, which I joined half-heartedly. I hated when people used the word creative as a noun.
“Chanel started her career over twenty years ago, working as a makeup artist at the Clinique beauty counter at Saks Fifth Avenue. It was here that she met famed fashion designer Diane Von Furstenberg. After Chanel touched up the designer’s makeup, she hired her on the spot as a makeup artist for her 1998 fall/winter runway show. Chanel went on to do runway makeup for countless other iconic designers and brands, including Oscar de la Renta, Yves Saint Laurent, and, appropriately, Chanel. She’s also worked with celebrities including Julia Roberts, Naomi Watts, Julianne Moore, and last but not least, our leader, Geia Stone.”
Our leader? That was a bit much.
“Today, Chanel is joined by Geia, her long-time friend and collaborator, for a short makeup demonstration, followed by a Q&A. Please join me in welcoming them both to the stage now.”
The crowd broke into loud applause as the two women walked on stage, holding hands. It struck me that Geia should have been introduced first, and her esteemed guest second, the whole order-of-importance thing. I didn’t recognize Chanel from the head table at dinner. The two women sat down on the chairs onstage. Both wore microphone headsets. Chanel wore a pair of thick-framed glasses on top of her head.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” Geia beamed at Chanel.
“I’m so glad to be here!”
“How was your trip?” Geia looked at the audience. “Chanel just arrived last night.”
Chanel laughed. “You don’t make it easy, do you? I feel like I’m at the end of the world.”
The crowd laughed too.
“You know me. I don’t shy away from difficult.”
“It’s true,” Chanel told the audience. “Geia always goes the extra distance to make something special. In this case, literally.”
The audience tittered again.
Chanel rearranged the Goddess™ makeup on the table in front of them, getting organized, and the two women talked briefly about their friendship. I was surprised to learn they had met when Geia hired Chanel to do her makeup for The Opposites.
“We go way back,” Geia explained. “Jack and I were still figuring out how to actually make a movie. We had this tiny budget, with little money for makeup and wardrobe, but I managed to convince Chanel to come on board by sending her a copy of the script.”
Chanel nodded. “It’s true. I fell in love with the story. I’d never read anything like it. I knew I had to be involved.”
“And then later, when we decided to launch a clean beauty line at Goddess, I knew we had to get Chanel. She acted as a consultant for all product development in this line.”
They moved on to the makeup demo. Chanel picked up one of the pink jars, took off the lid, and dipped a small brush into it. She then donned her large glasses and Geia tilted her chin up so Chanel had full access to the contours of her face.
