Donna and her husband, Matthew Jones, were already waiting for us.
“You won’t believe what that douchebag said to me,” I said as I slid into the circular booth beside them.
They leaned forward immediately, knowing exactly who I meant. I filled them in as we shared tapas.
“He sounds like a misogynistic pig,” Donna said, pushing her long black hair behind her ears, “who only likes women when they stay in their lane.”
I thought briefly of Caleb’s respectful apology on his first day and his interaction with Katie Powers from purchasing, but the memory of his outburst kept the anger simmering.
“Andhe tried to put the moves on you,” Donna added, rolling her eyes. “He was trying to put you in your place from day one.”
I had become friends with Donna when we had worked at the same hotel for our internship during University.
“That was actually before day one,” I admitted. “We didn’t even know each other… plus we both flirted.”
Elle grabbed her phone. “Wait, wait. Let me refresh my memory.” She searched his name and brought up photos—red carpets, parties, and the infamous Milan skinny-dipping shot. She angled the screen toward Donna. “This is him. Rich, evil mastermind, according to Nyah.”
“He looks more James Bond than Bond villain,” Donna said.
Elle tore her eyes from the screen. “Does he have a golden gun, Nyah?”
“You two are the villains,” I sniffed, though I couldn’t help smiling.
Donna sobered. “I get it. He doesn’t want you to succeed because you’re a woman. He wants to prove something to his father, and you’re in the way.”
“Exactly,” I said. “He’s on a different wavelength.”
“What if it’s not him?” Elle asked.
We all turned toward her.
“So what if he’s difficult?” she continued. “You deal with difficult people all the time. Why is this guy so different? You work for rich people in a hotel that caters to rich people. He says you’re pre-judging him because he’s rich, which doesn’t seem likely.” She raised one eyebrow and finished, “Is something else going on with this guy?”
“I think we’ve wasted enough time on Caleb Evans,” I said firmly, sitting up straighter. “I want wine, red meat, and dancing until my feet hurt. Who’s with me?”
Everyone agreed, and we dropped the subject. Still, Elle’s words stayed with me through dinner. I didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. I had dealt with far worse people. His words had been spiteful and cruel, attacking my dignity and integrity—things I would never compromise, no matter how physically attractive he was.
I limited myself to one glass of wine, just as Dr. Sloan had advised. We ate until we were full and joined in the performance, dancing with strangers to music I wouldn’t normally choose. It was liberating.
The rest of the weekend passed quickly. On Sunday, Patty—Mrs. Patricia Lee—invited me over for lunch. She had been my neighbour in my previous apartment and my guardian angel, often caring for Lucas while I worked and studied. Her home was peaceful at night and full of noise during the day from her grandchildren. Over homemade desserts, she often told me stories about her children and about Alfred Lee, the love of her life, who had died eight years earlier.
Lunch was warm and comforting. Before leaving, I gave Patty bronze angel wind chimes, which she hung on her balcony with a smile.
It was a beautiful end to a lovely weekend.
As I fell asleep Sunday night, I knew the coming week would not be easy. I would have to see Caleb’s face the next day—something that once had been pleasant, but now unsettled me on a completely different level.
8
CALEB
Over the weekend, I went to my parents’ house to spend time with the family, as my mother had requested.
Passing the staircase on the left after I entered, I stopped without realizing it, memories pulling me back. A memory surfaced uninvited: hide and seek, my siblings and I shrieking with laughter, the thud of my small feet racing down those steps. I’d tripped on the last five once, flying headlong because I was too eager to see the gifts my parents had brought back from Australia. I could almost feel the sting on my knees again, the way Mum had rushed to me while Dad stayed back, arms crossed.
Back then, I had felt wanted. Important.
Now, even surrounded by family, I felt like an outsider.
