Page 67 of Choosing Us

The cab driver parks under the porte-cochère then opens the door for me. I thank the driver and turn to wheel my bag into the lobby. The condominium building would be outside a typical FBI agent’s salary, but not if they have access to my trust account. My parents like to try and dangle the threat of money to get me to comply with their games, but when I turned twenty-one, I gained access to half of the trust account in my name from both sides of grandparents. As the only grandchild on my mother’s side and one of five on my father’s side, even a portion of the full amount meant I would never have to work if I didn’t want to, but that’s not how I’m wired. I believe I was given my gifts and talents to help people, and I will make every effort to ensure I put them to the best use possible.

I also really like living in a nice building that’s extremely secure. When I was looking at moving to Nashville for the task force that was officially forming, I asked Liam for recommendations because of his proximity to the city. He gave me a list of buildings that had adequate security—which, according to that man, would mean they were comparable to Fort Knox.

The last forty-eight hours have been a blur since flying to Philadelphia where I testified on a case that our task force was involved in last summer. They were unsure if I would be called for multiple days, so it was impossible to plan for Valentine’s Day, especially when Ryan had to be at a fundraiser for the hospital, courtesy of his favorite chairman of the board, of course.

Seriously. Who schedules a fundraiser on the night of Valentine’s Day? He is convinced it will bring more people out because it’s date-night themed, but I think it’s in poor taste and will rub people the wrong way. And of course, the chairman of the board publicly said that all hospital leadership would be in attendance, so what choice did any of them have? The doctors that are on call appreciate the vicinity, but I think Calvin Rutledge just did it to prove he has the power to do whatever he wants. When Mr. Rutledge originally presented the idea, Ryan was vocal in suggesting it not be on Valentine’s Day … so, of course, the man made sure it was on Valentine’s Day. I would have proudly been at his side this evening had I not been summoned to testify.

We will celebrate in the morning; it will be okay. I don’t need a holiday to celebrate what Ryan and I are building together, but I was a little excited about having my first real Valentine this year. The good news is I know he is still mine, even if we aren’t together on the holiday.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dr. Lane!” the doorman, Mr. Stanley, calls out to me from the front desk. I dramatically check my watch and give him an accusatory look.

“We both know you should be on your way to take Lorraine out and celebrate your love, not manning the desk at this hour.”

He puts up a hand in protest with a genuine smile. “We had a special brunch this morning, as she was spending the evening with her sister. It’s the first Valentine’s Day since her husband passed, and Lorraine didn’t want her to be alone. I switched with Curt, and my shift only started at three this afternoon. But now that you’re here, I have a few deliveries that arrived for you today, Dr. Lane. Just a moment.”

He holds up one finger for me to wait as he steps into the office behind the desk, appearing a few moments later with two large bouquets and a gold box of chocolates. One bouquet is a robust mix of beautiful white flowers. Delicate white roses are intermixed with white hydrangeas, carnations, and gerbera daisies. It’s gorgeous and elegantly understated—exactly what I would pick for myself.

“Oh, wow, those are stunning!” I awe in reference. The other bouquet is a very large arrangement of classic red roses.

“Glad you like them, since they are yours.” He chuckles, and the sound breaks me from the hold the gorgeous bouquets had on me for a moment.

“Your hands are quite full! I may need to make two trips.” I debate how best to carry the bouquets and pull my suitcase, while balancing my bag on my shoulder.

“I will happily escort you to your door, ma’am. Plus, I balanced these bouquets just right, and I’m afraid if I try to set either of them down again, I’ll lose the second.”

I smile and laugh, knowing how experienced he is he could probably pick up three more bouquets without breaking a sweat.

“Deal, but can I at least carry the chocolates?” He smiles and hands me the gold box. “Did these come with a card?”

“I’m afraid they were all delivered during the morning shift, so I’m not sure, but I’m assuming they came with one of the bouquets.” I nod and smile at the familiar gold box. I don’t even need a card to know they were from Aisha. It’s the same kind of chocolate we both buy when we need to have a virtual venting session. He wiggles his eyebrows, making me laugh, before he puts on a mock-serious glare. “Is there a list of possibilities?”

It’s my turn to laugh as I shake my head softly. “No, just the one likely suspect.”

“And where is this young man tonight?”

“He is at a fundraiser for his work, and I wasn’t sure when I would be back in town.”

Mr. Stanley and I make small talk about his plans for the upcoming weekend during the elevator ride and how much he’s looking forward to seeing his grandchildren that are coming to visit. “You should be excited to see your child, too, right?” I tease.

“Humph. She and her mother will just gang up on me about my cholesterol again. The numbers are fine, they just worry.” We step out onto my floor, and a few steps later, I’m unlocking my front door.

“They worry because they love you. Just filter their nagging through a lens of love. It will make it more tolerable to take.”

“You’re a wise soul, Dr. Lane.” I open my door and set my bag down inside before turning and taking the larger bouquet to the kitchen counter then return to get the smaller one.

“Thank you again for the assist. I’m sure I would have made a mess in the elevator trying to manage all of that. And please, tell Lorraine Happy Valentine’s Day from me. Have fun with your family this weekend!”

“My pleasure, ma’am. And shhh, don’t tell anyone else, but I just didn’t want to call maintenance for a water spill in the elevator.” He winks with a smile and waves goodbye as I laugh, shutting the door. I didn’t have typical grandparent relationships, but if I could pick someone for a grandfather, Mr. Stanley would be at the top of the list.

The fragrant aroma of the deep crimson roses fills my kitchen as I open the classic arrangement first. I quickly count and realize there are three dozen roses here.

No wonder I wouldn’t have been able to carry them all.

Pulling the wrapping back, I find a card tucked into the flowers.

Thank you for the best three months. Happy Valentine’s Day. Love, Ryan

That’s so sweet. The second bouquet of white flowers is also wrapped in protective plastic, with a small card tucked into the center. A typed message simply says,