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Naina picked me up at the airport and hugged me tight—NOLA was warm and humid but still comforting. I unbuttoned by fall jacket and pulled out my scarf.
People in NOLA dressed differently than in New York. There was no sense of urgency in the air. They spoke slower than New Yorkers and added “ma’am,” at the end of their sentences. My mind was on Rohan. This was his city.
As I closed the trunk of Naina’s BMW, I turned on my phone. There was a text from Rohan. “Hedick told me you’re in NOLA. Since you refuse to communicate with me, I won’t bother you further. My team will work closely with you. All the best for the conference.” I was devastated. I didn’t write back and wore my dark glasses so Naina couldn’t see my tears.
The drive from the airport to the hotel felt painful. Rohan
