Chapter 34 Nyah
NYAH
Ieased slowly back into something that resembled my routine.
For a couple of days, I worked from Caleb’s penthouse, moving through my tasks with a strange sense of suspension, before finally returning to the office.
Taylor escorted me safely to and from work in the BMW, his presence constant and watchful, a quiet reminder that normal was still conditional.
Alex called me one morning while I was on my way in. “He’s still in town, but we’re on him, Nyah,” he said. “He doesn’t seem to be doing much. If there’s anything to worry about, rest assured, you’ll be the first to know.”
I thanked him and ended the call, gripping my phone a little tighter than necessary.
Taylor caught my eye in the mirror, his brows drawn together in concern.
“Taylor?” I said.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“What you hear in the car—”
“Stays in the car. Yes, ma’am.”
I nodded, exhaling quietly. I will tell Caleb. When the time is right. The thought roosted in my chest, not as reassurance, but as something unfinished.
On the morning of February 14th, just before rushing out the door, Caleb asked me to keep my schedule free for that evening. He didn’t mention Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t have to. I would have had to be dense not to connect the dots.
The request followed me through the day—through getting Lucas ready for school, through the ride to work, through endless meetings and emails. His words echoed in my head, looping quietly but persistently.
He hadn’t called it a date, but it was one. It had to be. Our first, technically. And despite all the times we’d gone out with others, or stayed in with Lucas over the past eight months, this felt different. The thought of it made my stomach flutter.
Eventually, I sighed and leaned back in my chair, abandoning any pretense of productivity. I felt like a yacht moored in a marina, rocking gently in place, waiting to be taken out onto open water where I could finally feel the wind fill my sails again.
It took Amy tapping on my door at five o’clock to pull me out of my thoughts.
“Valentine’s delivery, m’dear,” she said brightly, waving a single red lily and a matching envelope.
“For me?” I asked, blinking at her.
“Hmmm, let me see.” She frowned theatrically at the back of the envelope. “To the love-struck damsel on the second floor—the one staring out the window and daydreaming about being carried away by her Prince Charming.”
“I am not daydreaming.”
Amy grinned. “Oh. Then this must be for me.”
I held out my hand. “Give it here.” I took the lily and the envelope, muttering, “Love-struck damsel. I should sue you for defamation.”
“For which I wouldn’t be liable,” she said cheerfully, “because I speak the truth.”
“Out,” I said, shooing her with my hands. “Get thee home to your husband.”
She backed toward the door. “Have fun tonight.”
“Good night, Amy.”
“Say hi to Caleb for me.”
“Begone,” I called, but she was already gone.
I opened the envelope, reminding myself not to forget the card I’d hand-made for Caleb and tucked into my desk drawer. This one was store-bought—white, with a background of shiny red hearts.
Tonight is the start of something new.
Go to room 1501.
Room 1501. Here at the hotel? Inside the card was a plastic electronic key.
I frowned and reread the message. Was this some low-effort attempt to get me into bed?
I might have expected something like that from the old Caleb, but the man I’d spent Christmas and New Year’s with?
The man who had sat beside my hospital bed?
It didn’t make sense. And yet, the evidence was right there in my hand.
This was not how it was supposed to happen.
I marched out of my office and into the elevator lobby, stabbing the button for the guest floors. Caleb was going to hear exactly what I thought. Did he honestly believe this was romantic? Me showing up at five in the afternoon, still in my work clothes, expected to leap into bed?
The elevator arrived.
I swiped the key card and pressed fifteen, then stood there silently fuming as the lift rose, chiming softly at each floor.
By the time the doors opened, I realized I didn’t have a rebuke ready.
Not. Romantic. Caleb.
No. That wasn’t sharp enough.
Seriously? A booty call in my own hotel? I suppose you want me to comp the room as well.
Better.
I stopped in front of Room 1501, brandishing the key card and rehearsing the lines under my breath. My heart didn’t need this kind of stress. I unlocked the door, shouldered it open, and—
“Ms. Rodriguez?”
There were four women inside, all professionally dressed and impeccably styled. The one who had spoken held a curling wand.
“My name is Lakshmi. I’ll do your hair.”
“Sabine,” said the woman beside her, holding a black and silver attaché case. “Make-up.”
“I’m Kara,” said another, flashing French-polished nails. “We have time for a pedi too, if you want to wear sandals.”
I couldn’t speak. The words I’d prepared for Caleb were still frozen on my lips. My gaze landed on the fourth woman, who stood beside a rack of stunning dresses.
“Wardrobe?” I asked faintly.
“I am Isabella,” she said, her voice touched with a soft Italian accent. Then she turned to the others. “I will put her in the red, yes?”
“Perfect,” Kara said, already reaching for my hands. “Do we need acrylics?” She inspected my nails. “No, these are perfect. Shellac in two colours. Gel if you want, but you’ll have to come into the salon to remove it later.”
I was still staring at the dresses, each one more beautiful than anything in my wardrobe. “Did… Caleb organize this?”
“Caleb?” Lakshmi said, ushering me further inside and closing the door. “The name on the docket is Nyah Rodriguez. That is you, correct?”
“It is, but I didn’t—”
“Please,” she said gently, guiding me toward the bathroom, “have a shower. I don’t have a basin, so I’ve left shampoo and conditioner inside.”
I stopped in the middle of the bathroom and turned around.
All four women stood framed in the doorway.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“You’re going out, Ms. Rodriguez.”
“To dinner.”
“On a date.”
Isabella reached for the door. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” she said, then closed it softly behind her.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, stunned. We’re going on a date. Finally, it was happening. It was really happening.
Leaving room 1501, I stepped back into the elevator, intending to return to my office.
I hadn’t wanted to leave Caleb’s gift in my desk, which meant I would have to run the gauntlet in the deep red—or profundo rosso, according to Isabella—backless, heart-shaped dress.
The doors slid shut, and my reflection stared back at me from the mirrored wall.
It was almost 7 p.m., so hopefully no one would see me.
And if they did, they probably wouldn’t recognize me.
The woman in the mirror didn’t quite feel like me.
Her eyes glowed beneath smoky shadows and careful highlights.
Her hair was swept into the kind of effortless chignon I had never once managed on my own, loose wavy tendrils falling in exactly the right places, softening everything.
I had never been vain enough to describe myself as beautiful out loud, but if I had been forced to choose a word in that moment, it would have been difficult to avoid.
The realization made my stomach flutter, not with pride, but with nerves.
Caleb was certainly in for a surprise.
I moved quickly on and off the second floor, my heels quiet against the carpet as I tucked his card, the gift, and my phone into the gold clutch Isabella had given me.
Inside were Sabine’s emergency lipstick and the note Kara had slipped into my hand after my nails had dried.
I glanced at it again before closing the clutch.
Call Taylor when you’re ready.
Instead, I sent Taylor a text.
ME
I hope you know where I’m going.
TAYLOR
I’m downstairs. I’ll bring the car through the hotel driveway.
The doorman, Harsha, didn’t recognize me as I stepped onto the red carpet. “Evening, ma’am. Can I call you a cab?”
“No, thank you, Harsha,” I said, smiling as I nodded toward the black BMW waiting at the end of the carpet. “That’s my car right there.”
“Ma’am…?” He frowned, clearly unused to being addressed by name. Then recognition dawned, followed by a full double-take. “Ms. Rodriguez? Holy— I mean, wow. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you. You have a date? Of course you do—look at you. Wow, you look great.”
I chuckled, warmth blooming in my chest at his unfiltered sincerity. “You look handsome too, Harsha. Happy Valentine’s.”
He hurried forward and opened the car door for me before Taylor could even think about getting out. “Happy Valentine’s, Ms. Rodriguez.”
Taylor rolled down the passenger window to offer him a tip, but Harsha waved him off, retreating to his station with a grin so wide it bordered on joyful disbelief.
Taylor caught my eye in the mirror and smiled.
“Looking very elegant tonight, Ms. Nyah. Do you have a date? Or are you just out breaking hearts?”
I laughed, the sound easing my nerves. “Don’t you start, Taylor. I just took a year off poor Harsha’s life.”
“I think he’ll pull through, ma’am.”
“I hope you know where we’re going,” I added, settling back into the seat. “Because I have no idea.”
“I do, ma’am,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as he pulled the big car smoothly into traffic. “Sit back. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
A few minutes was all it took. Taylor had just finished telling me about his plans for the evening—dinner and a movie with Martina after they put Lucas to bed—when we pulled into the Pan Pacific Vancouver Hotel.
Taylor leaned back and handed me another note, written on the same cardstock as the one from Lakshmi.