11: "Mrs Naya"

Naya's POV

“Mrs Naya.”

Rowan's voice is a gentle baritone as he calls my name. I put the phone on speaker and drop it on the sink.

“What a wonderful time to call, Mr Rowan,” I say as I stare at my naked self in the bathroom mirror. “I wouldn't usually step out of the bathroom to pick up a phone call.”

But my phone had sang it out that I had a call from Rowan.

“My apologies,” he says, but the restraint in his voice is a giveaway that he's barely holding himself from bursting into laughter.

“So, why am I getting a call from my busy husband today?” I ask.

“Let’s say his schedule isn't as tight as usual today. So he's thinking of a date at the Castro Lucille by 4pm,” he says.

“4pm? I'm down,” I respond quickly.

“Good. My assistant will be available to pick you up. Just call me whenever you're ready,” he says.

“Alright, darling,” I respond.

Several hours later, I'm dressed in a velvet gown and seated before my giant bedroom mirror.

It's hard to choose between my silver jewellery or the go