“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 Taylora 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.”
