Chapter 14
Nicole
The past few days have felt like a sanctuary in the eye of the storm that is my life. Whatever Shane and I are building together, it's given me a rare sense of joyful retreat from the constant worrying. It's only been a few days since this all started, and we're already becoming skilled at keeping things hidden. Last night, he slipped into my room after Jaime was asleep. This morning, he woke up early to sneak back to his own room just before Jaime got up.
I stand by the coffee maker in the kitchen while Jaime munches on his cereal, eyes glued to his cartoons before school. My coffee is already brewed, steam curling up from the cup in front of me. I know Shane is up and headed downstairs for a quick hello before work. And I know this is where he'll come first.
He comes down just after 7:30, almost on cue. My heart jumps when I hear the door open behind me, but I don't turn around. I pick up the spoon and casually stir my already-stirred coffee, expecting to feel his hands on my hips, his lips pressing a soft kiss on the back of my neck. But that doesn't happen. Instead, Shane grabs my hand and spins me around to face him. He looks me deep in the eyes, then kisses me. I taste the fresh mint of his toothpaste and the rich, deep scent of his cologne. I grab him, holding on tight, and when he pulls back, he looks at me again.
"You're gorgeous. Just what I need to see in the morning," Shane says softly.
"I look like the same sleepy hag I always do in the mornings," I say with a smile.
"Yes, a gorgeous sleepy hag with frizzled hair," he jokes back.
"How'd you sleep?" I ask.
"Next to you, I sleep like a baby," he says.
"Yeah, but you definitely snore like a man," I remark.
"Well, you do, too," he teases, laughing. Then his face grows more serious. "I was thinking. I'll finish a bit early tonight, so how about we have a real date? Just dinner, nothing fancy. Somewhere private, where no media would see us together."
It's not quite the media I'm worried about.
I hesitate for a moment. I'm far from having my life figured out, and danger seems to lurk closer every day. Still, looking at Shane, his smile, and the excitement in his eyes, I can't say no.
"Private sounds nice. I like private," I say. "I'd love to."
"Great. I've already checked with the nanny. I'll call her from work to confirm and send a car for you after she arrives. How does seven sound?"
"Seven sounds alright, but what do I tell Jaime?"
"Tell him you're having dinner with a friend, and so am I. It's not technically a lie. And he'll be in bed by the time we get back."
"Okay." I smile at him. "Jaime's been asking for you, by the way. He might be a little jealous of us going out without him."
"Ah, yeah. He wanted to see the tickets for the show. As if he doesn't believe I have them. Don't think he'll be too jealous when he does," Shane smiles.
"Tickets to wha—" is all I can get out before he leans in and kisses me again, and I forget what I was saying.
"Uncle Shane!" Jaime shouts as he walks into the kitchen. Shane quickly pulls back almost instinctively, just before Jaime catches us.
"Hey, bud. Happy Friday!"
I give Shane a stern look. "That was too close," I whisper, just as Jaime gets closer.
"Can I see them?" Jaime asks.
"Sure, I was just giving them to Nicole," Shane says.
I watch curiously, still unsure what they're so excited about. Shane pulls the tickets from his pocket and lets Jaime examine them before handing them to me. I glance at them.
The tickets are for a monster truck show at the stadium tomorrow afternoon.
"You don't remember, do you?" Shane asks, noticing the confusion on my face.
I force a smile. "No," I admit nervously.
"It's going to be the best, Nicole! You sure you can't come, Uncle Shane?" Jaime asks.
"Nah, bud, got another late one tomorrow. But you and Nicole can take some good videos for me, right?" Shane replies.
It must have slipped my mind. With everything happening—the charity event, the threatening text, this new relationship with Shane—the show got lost somewhere in the mix.
"I've got to go, guys. See you tonight," Shane says with a wink. He turns to Jaime. "Get ready for monster trucks," he says in a deep, playful voice, ruffling Jaime's hair. Shane leaves the kitchen and heads out the door, and I take Jaime upstairs to get him dressed for school.
The restaurant is Japanese—exclusive and members-only, Shane assured me in his text earlier. I'm to meet him directly at our private booth.
"No chance of anyone seeing us arrive together," his text had promised. I can't help but smile at the careful planning he's put into this.
When I enter the restaurant's lounge, the ambiance immediately strikes me—dim lighting with elegant lanterns hanging overhead and soft traditional music playing in the background. There's a single hostess behind a sleek black podium. She looks up as I approach, her face professional but warm.
"Good evening. May I have your reservation number?" she asks.
I give it to her, and she types it into her computer. After a moment, she looks up with a slight nod. "Right this way," she says, her voice soft and polite.
She leads me through a discreet door into a narrow hallway lined with other doors, each marked with a number. It feels more like an upscale speakeasy than a restaurant. I hear the muffled sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and soft conversations coming from behind the closed doors, creating a sense of hidden revelry. The ambiance is intimate, secretive, almost sensual.
We stop at door number seven, and she knocks lightly before opening it. Inside, Shane stands waiting with a wide smile that instantly puts me at ease.
"Hey," he says, his voice warm and welcoming. The room is spacious but intimate, a private booth with a curved leather seat that wraps around the walls and a polished wooden table in the center. Embedded in the middle of the table is a large grill where a soft fire flickers beneath a metal grate.
Once I'm inside, the hostess gives me a polite smile and quietly closes the door, leaving us alone in our secluded sanctuary. Shane steps forward, his eyes never leaving mine, and kisses me gently, his lips lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Then he takes my hand and guides me to the table, where we settle in side by side.
There's a sleek tablet on the table displaying the menu. He picks it up and hands it to me. "Order whatever you like."
I scroll through the selections—an array of alcoholic drinks, traditional Japanese appetizers, and plates of raw meats elegantly arranged like works of art.
"Is this one of those places where we cook it ourselves?" I ask, glancing up at him.
"Yeah, is that okay?" Shane replies. "I remember when we first… you know. You mentioned you'd never been, so I wanted to try it with you."
I can't help but smile, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You're so sweet," I say softly, leaning in to kiss him again.
The meal is an experience in itself. We drink sake and enjoy the fun of grilling our own meats over the open flame. The scent of searing beef and garlic fills the room, and the cozy atmosphere makes everything feel more intimate. By the end of the evening, I've fallen in love with the restaurant and, in a way, with Shane all over again. This private, hidden space makes me feel safe, wrapped up in the warmth of his presence, if only for a moment.
When the meal is done, we're granted special permission to leave through a back entrance of the restaurant. Our car awaits, but as we step outside, paranoia begins to creep back in. The dark alley behind the restaurant feels too quiet and too exposed. I subtly scan the area, my eyes darting from shadow to shadow.
During the ride home, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. I catch a glimpse of a black SUV in the side mirror, and my heart races. It seems to follow us from the restaurant, lingering behind. I try to focus on Shane, who is chatting casually about the evening, but my mind is racing. Am I just being paranoid? Maybe I've had too much to drink, and I'm imagining things.
By the time we reach home, the SUV is long gone—or maybe it was never there. I exhale, feeling my anxiety melt away as we step inside. The safety of the house, the warmth of Shane's hand in mine, is enough to push the fear to the back of my mind, at least for now.
It's Monster Truck Day, and Jaime has been talking about it nonstop since lunch. I was apprehensive about the whole thing at first—the involvement of wrecked cars in any event, considering what's happened to him, seems like a bad idea. Though with his excitement and everyone else's support of it, maybe I'm the only one who's made that connection. And perhaps that's for the best.
It's just after lunch, and Jaime is playing in his room, giving me some much-needed peace before the chaos of monster trucks this afternoon. I stand at the sink, finishing the last of the dishes, then dry my hands and settle back into my chair with my book. The quiet is soothing, and I try to let the story take me away, but my mind keeps wandering back to that black SUV I thought was following us after dinner with Shane.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes, jolting me out of my thoughts. I glance at it, my heart sinking as I see a text from an unknown number.
The message reads:
You still haven't learned, apparently. Perhaps you won't until you get burned. Lay low.
Panic floods through me. How can they tell? Who is this? A million questions surge through my mind at once. I think back to the SUV after dinner—were we really being followed? Is this connected? My heart pounds in my chest, the walls seem to close in around me, and I feel that all-too-familiar anxiety creeping in. I need to make sure Jaime is safe.
I rush to check on him, and each step I take toward his room feels like I'm reliving a nightmare. It's like that time I walked out of my parents' room to check on Gio. The fear, the uncertainty—it's all there.
When I open Jaime's door, I see him bent over his desk, drawing. He turns around, sensing my presence, his eyes curious. "What is it?" he asks, noticing the blank expression on my face.
"Nothing," I manage to say, forcing a smile. "You okay, bud?" I ask, trying to sound casual.
He nods, a little confused. "Is it time to get ready for monster trucks yet?" he asks, his excitement clear.
I hesitate, my mind still swirling with fear. "No, buddy. Actually, I'm not feeling so well..." The words catch in my throat, because I know what they'll mean to him. "I'm thinking I might have to cancel the monster trucks."
" What ?" he shouts, his face falling. "No, Nicole, please! Can't you just take some medicine?"
"No, buddy, I think it's pretty serious. Maybe we can reschedule…" I offer weakly, knowing how much this will disappoint him.
"We can't, Nicole. Can't you just call—"
"Tell you what," I say, trying to calm him, "just relax. Wait here, and I'll see what I can do."
He huffs, his frustration clear. "Okay," he snaps, his voice sharper than I've ever heard. I close the door gently, leaving him alone. My phone is still in my hand; I think about calling Annette to cancel, but something stops me. I remember Gio crying when we couldn't go to the city fair. I remember him asking to see his old friends after we went into hiding, and all those weekends spent locked in the house, too afraid to step outside. They're doing it to me again, and worse, they don't even have to show their faces. All they need is a phone to throw my life—and everyone else's—into a closet.
I take a deep breath, put the phone away, and head back to Jaime's room. I open the door, and he looks up at me with concern.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks cautiously.
"Yeah, bud. Much better. Put on the clothes I set out for you, and let's get ready for the monster trucks," I say, trying to mimic the funny voice Shane uses, but it comes out awkward.
Jaime's face lights up instantly. He jumps up, his earlier frustration forgotten. His joy makes everything worth it.
When we get home from the show, Jaime is so exhausted that he falls asleep almost immediately. I retreat to my room, craving the comfort of a quiet evening and a good book. Around 9:30, just as I'm finally getting lost in the pages, there's a knock at my door.
"Come in," I say, already knowing it's Shane.
He steps in, dressed in his dark blue suit and the tie I love the most on him. He looks tired, but concerned. "Are you feeling better?" Shane asks.
I'm a bit taken aback. "What do you mean?"
"Jaime was awake when I went to see him. He told me you were feeling sick and canceled going to the show, but that you left and came back feeling better right away. So I was wondering if you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, trying to hide my discomfort, but I can feel the weight of his gaze. I'm so tired of lying to everyone. Still, I think he senses something is off.
"You're sure? You don't need anything?" he asks.
"No, I'm fine, really," I reply, my voice a bit sharper than I intended. I set my book down and walk over to him, pulling him into a kiss to change the subject. "How was your day?" I ask, hoping to steer the conversation away.
"It was fine," he says. "We had to make some changes in the departments with Oliver moving up, but things ran pretty smoothly."
"Great," I say, trying to sound upbeat. "Are—"
"You sure everything is okay?" Shane interrupts, his tone more serious now. He's not buying it.
"Yeah…" I say, but it comes out more uncertain than I mean it to.
"Listen," he says, his voice firm. "If you don't want to tell me what's happening, I understand. But… you know, with the charity event, you looked all nervous after dinner, now this is affecting Jaime—and I'm sorry to say, your job too. Just tell me what's going on, and if you can't, at least try to get it under control."
He looks me in the eyes, then turns and leaves, closing the door softly behind him. I stand there, feeling my heart shatter into a hundred pieces.