Chapter 16 Caleb
CALEB
Iarrived at work before Amy the next morning, armed with coffee and pastries for both her and Nyah.
After lunch with my father the day before, I’d spent the rest of the afternoon working from home, researching the airline contract, refining ideas, proving—to myself as much as anyone—that this wasn’t a phase.
Nyah was bound to be impressed. Or at least, I hoped she would be.
I paced in my office, shifting my weight from foot to foot, listening for the click of her heels in the corridor. When I heard them, my pulse jumped. I waited a beat—maybe two—then stepped into her office. “Can we start now if you’re not too busy?”
Her stare stopped me cold.
“Good morning to you, too,” she said, head cocked to one side. “Sure.”
Something was off.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
She nodded without looking at me.
Unease crept in as I smiled too widely and gestured toward my office. “Do you mind coming in here? I’ve got everything set up.”
She followed, clutching her laptop like a shield.
Everything on my desk was exactly where I’d placed it—laptop centred, papers aligned, picture frame to one side, notepad and pen opposite, coffee waiting. Order. Control. Proof I had my act together.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come back after lunch yesterday,” I said, keeping my tone light but sincere. “I started thinking about the airline and made a few calls. Did some research. This is what I’ve got so far.”
She scanned my notes while sipping her coffee, then opened her laptop and showed me hers.
They were nearly identical.
“We both have the same information,” I said, smiling, relief flooding through me.
“Good thing we’re on the same page.” I leaned forward slightly.
“I set up meetings with Will and Elizabeth at noon, then Priya at two. We can tackle those today and start the presentation tomorrow. Does that work for you?”
She stood abruptly. “Whatever you say, Boss.”
The word landed like a slap.
She walked toward the door, and I frowned, rubbing my chin as confusion twisted into something heavier. Boss? Her entire demeanour—stiff, distant—was nothing like the woman I’d worked with just days ago.
“Is everything all right?” I asked. “I can reschedule if—”
“The meetings are fine,” she snapped, turning back, eyes sharp. “You don’t need to check with me anymore. You’re the boss. Whatever you say will be carved in stone. It’s only a matter of time before I’m out of here.”
And then she was gone.
“What the hell happened?” I demanded as I reached the staff bathroom.
I had sprinted the entire way down the hall, and now the chaos hit me all at once—police voices overlapping, radios crackling, paramedics moving with clipped urgency as they pushed past each other in the narrow space.
For a second, I just stood there, trying to make sense of it. The air felt too tight, thick with adrenaline and something dark.
I had gone looking for Nyah, hoping to clear up whatever misunderstanding she had in her head. Instead, I’d walked straight into a nightmare.
A man lay slumped in the corner, unconscious and bleeding.
My gaze snapped between him and Nyah, shock rooting me in place as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
“He’s my ex-husband,” Linda said through sobs. “He came here asking me for money.” Her shoulders shook as she cried harder. “Ms. Nyah saved me.”
I stared at the man again, disbelief settling heavily in my chest. The damage wasn’t minor. Whatever had happened here, Nyah hadn’t hesitated.
“Do you wish to press charges against him, ma’am?” one of the officers asked gently.
Nyah stepped forward then, placing her hands firmly on Linda’s shoulders. Her voice was calm. “Don’t be scared. I’m with you. I’m a witness to what he did to you. He’ll be put away, and you won’t ever have to deal with him again.”
“He’ll come for my children,” Linda cried. “He—”
“He won’t,” Nyah said without hesitation. “We’ll get a good lawyer, and we’ll make sure he’s put away for a long time. I promise.”
Linda nodded, clinging to her words like a lifeline.
The police took over after that. Paramedics moved in to treat the unconscious man while another officer escorted Linda aside to take her statement.
I finally started toward Nyah, intent on making sure she was okay, when a paramedic reached her first.
“Miss, are you all right?” he asked. “Do you need medical attention?”
“Just some bandages for a cut, please,” Nyah replied. “I can take care of it myself.”
That was when I saw it.
Blood seeped from beneath her blouse, staining the fabric at her stomach.
Rage slammed into me so hard it was almost dizzying. That man—unconscious, useless on the floor—had hurt her. Before I could reach her, the police stepped in to take her statement. I waited, barely patient, watching every movement, every flinch, every tight breath she took.
The police questioned me briefly, given that I was the owner’s son. When they finished, I scanned the room again.
She was gone.
I went upstairs, my steps quickening, and noticed her door slightly ajar. Not wanting to startle her, I pushed it open gently.
Nyah stood inside, her blouse rolled up, carefully tending to the wound on her stomach.
The sight sent another surge of anger through me. I cleared my throat and coughed softly to announce my presence. “Um… sorry. I didn’t knock. Can I help you with that?”
She froze for half a second before rolling her blouse back down, her movements quick, defensive. When she turned to face me, her eyes were already sharp. “I think you’ve done more than enough,” she said tightly. “You clearly want me gone.”
“Want you gone?” I repeated, stepping closer before I could stop myself. I grimaced. “That’s the second time you’ve implied that. What are you talking about?”
“You,” she said, frustration spilling out now. “With your plans and your new suggestions and setting up meetings and—” Her hands lifted, gesturing helplessly in the air. “All of it.”
I moved closer again, drawn in despite the warning in her tone.
She noticed. Her breath stuttered, and her shoulders squared. “What are you doing?” she asked.
I was too close now. Close enough to see the tension in her jaw, the faint sheen of sweat at her temple.
The soft, floral scent of her perfume reached me, and my pulse responded instantly.
I met her gaze and lowered my voice. “If you think I’m doing all of this to take the hotel and get rid of you, you’re wrong.
I just wanted you to see what I’m capable of,” I continued, quieter now, the words carrying more weight than I’d intended.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
I exhaled and forced myself to step back. Turning toward the door, I added, “Your job is safe.” I didn’t look at her. “No one, including me, can or will ever take it from you.” My hand paused on the door handle. “I’ll reschedule the meetings for tomorrow.”
I shut the door behind me and walked to my office.
Inside, I stood there, staring at it as if it might answer me.
Why didn’t she trust me? What had I done to make her think I wanted her fired?
I’d said those words before—too sharply, too carelessly.
Remembering them now, I wished I could rewind time and swallow them whole.
I didn’t want her gone. I was already getting used to her, looking forward to her presence, her insight, the way she challenged me without trying to.
I sank into my chair, replaying every interaction, searching for the exact moment I’d gone wrong.
My thoughts drifted, uninvited, to the night she’d passed out in my car after the club, carrying her and her bag and fumbling with her apartment door. The strange relief when Larry—was that his name?—had appeared to help.
Even unconscious, she’d trusted me.
Sober… not so much.
Just like she hadn’t told me what happened at Greg’s barbecue.
The anger I’d tried to suppress that night flared again. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been gripping the steering wheel until my hands started to ache. Greg’s words echoed in my head—how Beth had insulted Nyah. He’d told me so I wouldn’t doubt her if she ever mentioned it herself.
She never did.
How could she be so composed? Beth had humiliated her, and Nyah had still smiled, still helped, still acted as if none of it mattered. On the ride home, she’d been relaxed, polite—even joking—like racism was just another obstacle she’d learned to step around with quiet dignity.
I’d gone back inside and given Beth a piece of my mind, but it hadn’t been enough. If Greg hadn’t told me, I never would have known. Nyah would have carried it alone.
Any other woman might have walked out. Might have demanded an apology.
Nyah hadn’t said a word.
There was a kind of grace in her that transcended the country-club world I’d grown up in—and realizing that made me understand just how extraordinary she really was.
Now, as I stared out the window, another image surfaced: the man bleeding on the bathroom floor. Nyah standing over him.
She’d helped Linda—but she’d also done that.
Which meant she could have handled herself at the club when those two men had boxed her in. She’d had too much to drink, sure, but she hadn’t been helpless. She wasn’t fragile.
She was layered. Capable. Dangerous in ways that intrigued me. What else didn’t I know about her?
I sat at my desk and opened the drawer, pulling out the small box I kept tucked inside.
Inside lay a bracelet.
I’d found it that night after dropping Nyah off. Something had glinted in the passenger footwell—a black rhinestone. When I searched under the seat, I found the bracelet itself, the clasp snapped clean through, and a few loose stones scattered across the carpet.
It hadn’t looked valuable. Fixing it had probably cost more than it was worth.
Still, I’d taken it to be repaired.
Now the clasp was whole again, the missing stones replaced so seamlessly it was impossible to tell it had ever been broken. I lifted it, letting it drape across my palm, the rhinestones catching the light just as they had when she’d moved through the club.
I hadn’t replaced it with something newer or better.
I hadn’t fixed it because it was broken.
I’d fixed it because it mattered… it mattered to her.