The Retreat …..part 1
The lounge inside the retreat resort was dim, washed in amber lighting and low jazz that hummed softly through the room. Most of the other guests were scattered in quiet conversation, some laughing near the fireplace.
Shayla sat alone at the bar.
Her fingers circled the rim of her glass, the ice clinking softly as she took another sip. The drink was strong, but it wasn’t enough to shake the strange feeling crawling under her skin.
Ever since she walked into the building, she felt it.
A presence.
Not someone staring.
Something… aware of her.
Watching.
She glanced over her shoulder again.
Nothing but strangers.
Still, the feeling stayed.
A stool beside her scraped lightly across the floor.
She didn’t even look at first.
“What do you want?” Shayla asked bluntly, taking a sip of her drink.
The man beside her chuckled.
“Damn, put the horns away,” he said jokingly. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
Shayla turned to look at him.
Older.
Maybe mid-50s.
Salt-and-pepper beard, expensive watch, calm eyes that studied her a little too closely.
“I am not interested,” Shayla said flatly. “As you can see… I am married.”
She lifted her hand, flashing the ring.
The man leaned back slightly, nodding.
“Fair enough.”
But he didn’t move.
Instead, he glanced around the lounge like he was looking for someone.
“What are you doing at a lounge like this then?” he asked. “Where’s your husband?”
Shayla’s jaw tightened.
“On the other side of the country working,” she said. “Unlike some people, I’m here for business.”
The man nodded slowly.
“I know.”
That made her pause.
“What?”
He reached for a glass of water the bartender had placed in front of him.
“You’re here for the corporate wellness retreat,” he continued calmly. “Marketing division. Third floor rooms. You checked in around 4:40 this afternoon.”
Shayla’s eyes narrowed.
“How do you know that?”
The man finally looked at her again.
His expression had changed.
Less playful.
More serious.
“Because,” he said quietly, “you weren’t supposed to come this year.”
Her stomach dropped.
“What are you talking about?”
He studied her face like he was trying to confirm something.
Then he asked a question that made her skin go cold.
“Shayla,” he said slowly.
“Does the name Mark mean anything to you?”
Her grip tightened on her glass.
“Yes,” she said cautiously. “He runs the retreat programs for our company.”
The man nodded once.
“Thought so.”
“Why?”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice so no one else could hear.
“Because Mark told everyone you declined the invitation.”
Shayla blinked.
“That’s not true. My boss personally sent me—”
The man cut her off.
“No,” he said firmly.
“You signed up.”
Shayla frowned.
“Yes.”
“That’s the problem,” the man said.
He glanced toward the hallway that led to the conference rooms.
Then back at her.
“Because the last time someone named Shayla attended one of Mark’s retreats…”
He paused.
“…she never went home.”
The ice in Shayla’s drink melted quietly between them.
And suddenly that presence she’d been feeling all night didn’t feel so imaginary anymore.
“The fuck are you talking about?” Shayla asked sharply, turning toward him fully now. Her patience was gone. “I belong here.”
The older man didn’t flinch at her tone.
Instead, he gave a small shrug and lifted his glass.
“I belong here,” he said calmly.
Shayla rolled her eyes and turned back toward the bar.
“Suit yourself.”
She couldn’t possibly believe her boss had some hidden motive sending her here. The company had been doing these retreats for years. Leadership training, networking, mindfulness sessions — the same corporate nonsense every other job did.
This man was probably just bored and looking for conversation.
Shayla finished the last of her drink and slid the glass toward the bartender.
“Another,” she said.
The older man stayed quiet beside her for a moment.
Then he said something strange.
“You said your boss sent you?”
“Yeah,” Shayla replied without looking at him. “Mark. He runs the program.”
The man nodded slowly like that confirmed something.
“Interesting.”
Shayla sighed. “Why do you care?”
Instead of answering, the man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small leather badge holder.
He slid it across the bar.
Shayla glanced down.
Then her stomach dropped.
It wasn’t a company badge.
It was a detective’s shield.
Her eyes snapped up to him.
“What is this?”
The man leaned back slightly.
“Name’s Daniel Reeves,” he said. “Private investigator.”
Shayla scoffed immediately.
“Yeah, okay.”
But the man didn’t smile.
“I’ve been coming to these retreats for three years,” he continued quietly.
That made her pause.
“Why?”
He tapped the bar once with his finger.
“Because every year someone attends one of Mark’s retreats…”
He looked toward the hallway leading deeper into the lodge.
“…and something about them changes.”
Shayla frowned.
“What does that even mean?”
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“They quit their jobs.”
“They cut off their families.”
“Some of them just disappear.”
Shayla laughed under her breath.
“That sounds ridiculous.”
“Does it?”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Then let me ask you something.”
Shayla folded her arms.
“What?”
“When you signed up for this retreat…”
He stared directly into her eyes.
“…did you ever actually meet Mark in person?”
Shayla opened her mouth to answer.
But stopped.
Because now that she thought about it…
Every meeting had been through email.
Or video calls.
And suddenly—
Across the lounge—
A man stepped out of the hallway.
Tall.
Well-dressed.
Smiling politely at the guests.
The host.
Marcus.
Shayla had seen his face dozens of times on company calls.
But tonight…
Something about him felt different.
His eyes slowly moved across the room.
Scanning the guests.
Until they landed directly on her.
And he smiled wider.
Then raised his glass slightly in her direction.
Daniel leaned closer to Shayla and whispered one last thing.
“Don’t go to the midnight session.”
Shayla blinked.
“What midnight session?”
But when she turned back to the detective—
His barstool was empty.
Having attended corporate retreats myself, I've learned they often serve as more than just networking or leadership training events. Sometimes, there are underlying agendas or unresolved issues that surface, especially in exclusive wellness programs like the one Shayla is experiencing. The feeling of being watched or sensed—what Shayla experiences—resonates strongly with many who have found themselves in unfamiliar social settings where something seems off but can't be pinpointed. This subtle unease often hints at deeper secrets or conflicts lurking behind the polished facade of such gatherings. The character of Daniel Reeves, the private investigator who frequents these retreats, suggests a recurring pattern of mysterious changes among attendees. From my perspective, this raises important questions about how corporate wellness retreats handle participant well-being and what pressures or influences might cause drastic life changes like quitting jobs or cutting ties with families. Moreover, the notion that attendees disappear or permanently alter their lives after these retreats is chilling and adds a compelling psychological thriller element. It encourages readers to consider the impact of corporate culture on personal identity and the lengths some might go to seek change or escape. Shayla's interaction with the mysterious Mark, who she has never met in person, points to the modern reliance on digital communication that can sometimes obscure truth and intention. It reminds me of real-life experiences where remote leadership or virtual meetings conceal underlying power dynamics and hidden motives. Finally, the warning about the midnight session adds a classic suspense element that hooks readers into wanting more. It’s a great example of how subtle hints and layered storytelling can draw the audience deeper into the narrative. For anyone interested in corporate dramas wrapped with mystery and psychological suspense, "The Retreat" promises a gripping exploration of trust, identity, and the unknown lurking within seemingly ordinary events.
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