“Annabelle, is this the client you mentioned at our staff meeting?” she asked.
I gave Soph my brightest smile. “Yes. Sophie and Miguel Vasquez, this is Lexi Brewer.” I paused while they shook hands. “She’s the architect of a groundbreaking net-zero housing development that’s going up in the middle of Phoenix. Using tax-reverted lots, she’s designing small homes for middle- and low-income families that will eliminate energy costs as they are completely self-sustaining. Lexi’s project will change the residential building industry in Phoenix as we know it.”
They looked suitably impressed, so I continued, “As you can imagine, the news outlets are clamoring to interview her so we have a lot of materials to create, the development’s brand identity, including the logo, colors, fonts, and photo direction. And that’s just to start. We’ll also be designing the brochures, ads, social media graphics, website, landing pages, and email marketing templates.”
“Don’t forget the gala,” Lexi said.
“Gala?” Sophie asked. She bounced on her toes, just once, and I could tell her inner cheerleader loved where this was going.
“Yes, there is also a fundraising gala happening, to get the community actively invested in the development, which is to be held at the Phoenix Country Club and we’re designing the invitations for that, too.”
“Impressive,” Miguel said.
Lexi flushed with pleasure, and I felt a surge of satisfaction that I was going to be working with her on something that actually mattered. It was thrilling.
“So this is a done deal?” Carson asked Lexi. “You’re not looking at any other design studios?”
“No, Annabelle came out to the construction site yesterday and sold me on working with Vasquez Squared,” Lexi said. “I had some free time this morning, so we decided to nail down the details.”
I could have kissed her, which would have been weird since I was now sleeping with her brother but still. She had just rocketed to the top tier on my list of favorite people.
“Lexi and I are going to review the creative brief that I wrote up yesterday afternoon,” I said. “Trent is drawing up the working agreement, and we’ll review that as well when he’s done. If you want to sit in?”
“Absolutely,” Soph agreed.
“Unfortunately, I have a meeting with another client,” Miguel said. He looked conflicted.
“I’m happy to take your place,” Carson offered.
Miguel gave him a sharp look. While I was sure Carson had meant it in an ingratiating way, I didn’t think Miguel heard it that way. Soph and I exchanged a glance and I knew she’d caught Miguel’s expression, too.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Miguel said. “As creative director, Annabelle’s got this.”
For a second, I thought I might faint. I had no idea what was happening but Miguel had clearly backed me—probably because I had landed a huge project with an incredible amount of exposure for the studio—and judging by the pinched look on Carson’s face, he didn’t like it one little bit.
I opened the door to my office and gestured for Soph and Lexi to go ahead inside. I turned to follow them, and Miguel called after me, “Nice work, Annabelle.”
“Thanks.” I flashed him a huge grin. When I turned around, my first thought was that I could not wait to go home and hug the stuffing out of Nick Daire for giving me my best working day to date.
The meeting went well. Lexi outlined what her needs were, from the naming of the housing development to all of the subsequent materials, including the invitations to the gala, which was happening in six weeks. Soph looked mildly panicked at the tight turnaround on that, but I promised that it could be done. I remembered Booker saying that Carson overpromised and underdelivered. I did not want to get slapped with that label, too. I didn’t care what I had to do; we were going to be ready for the gala.
By the time Lexi headed back to work and Soph left my office with the newly inked working agreements in hand, my coffee was cold and the late night was catching up to me, making me yawn and try to figure out where I could wedge a catnap into my day.
It was after lunch before I remembered the note that had been taped to my front door. I grabbed my shoulder bag out of the desk drawer where I kept it and found the envelope.
It occurred to me, in a flash of panic, that this could be something bad.
I’d assumed that it was a love note, well, probably not a love note this soon in the game, but a “thanks for the awesome night” note wouldn’t have been out of order. I had been sure Nick would have penned something sweet or sexy about our night last night, but maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe now that we’d slept together, he wanted me gone from the premises. Perhaps in hindsight, he was freaked out that he’d slept with his tenant. Uh-oh.
My fingers shook when I opened the note, which was ridiculous. A single sheet of paper fell onto the top of my desk. I picked it up and slowly unfolded it.
Scrawled in Nick’s bold hand were the words: My place? Seven.
Was this an invitation? There was a question mark, but it still felt more like one of his mandates. Hmm. Was I going to go? As if that were a real question. Of course I was. My curiosity would kill me if I didn’t. That being said, I thought it best to keep my guard up and be prepared for whatever was coming my way. Good or bad, happy or sad, hot or not, I was ready. I hoped.
Nick
20
“Holy shit!” Jackson startled me out of my nap on the workout bench.
I lurched upright, clutching my chest. “What the hell, man?”
Jackson was looming over me so I slid down the bench. A normal person would have grasped the subtle cue that I was putting some distance between us. Not Jackson. He sat down next to me.
“You slept with Annabelle, didn’t you?” he asked.
My eyes went wide. I had assumed that when he got back from driving Lexi home, he would think I’d gone to bed.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. I could feel my face get hot so I tried to cover it by looking pissed off. I was good at pissed off.
“Lupita said you didn’t sleep in your bed,” he said. “And look at you, you’re unconscious at nine o’clock in the morning. That, my brother, is a night well spent.”
Usually, I corrected him when he called me “brother,” but today I was straight up too exhausted to call him on it. Besides, while I’d never admit it to him, I kind of liked it. It gave me a feeling of belonging that had been sorely missing in my life.
“I’m not talking about this,” I said.