"I didn't know that. I just assumed you didn’t want to start here right away."
"I got a job at the newspaper and worked on their finance team for a couple years. Dad's the one who came to me and told me it was time. He saw my hard work and it paid off."
"But, I'm not like you, Lance." It's the truth. Working in an office all day does not appeal to me. I don't like numbers, hate customer service, and I don't think I could ever do anything that doesn't involve art.
"I saw your drawings. They were really good." Lance shifts on the desk to face me. "Look. Glasson is a family business. It will always be a family business. Yours and mine. You don't have to work here to be a part of it. Do what you enjoy. Life's too short not to."
"You think my drawings were good?"
"Hell yes. Even told Nikki about them."
"You did?" I sound like a child seeking praise, but Lance doesn't hand out compliments often—ever actually.
"What do you want to do, Mira?"
"I want to draw." It's simple really.
"Then draw. Design clothes. Start your own fashion line."
"Ah," I breathe out, "that would be a dream."
"Then do it. But first, finish what you started. Revamp your design, present it to Layla, and know that you gave it another shot. If it's rejected, you have nothing to lose. If it's not, you've got that on your resume when you start working under other designers."
Why is he so smart? I want to hug him, but that's not our style.
Lance stands up, straightens his jacket and grabs his folder. "And, you need to clean up this mess before Dad comes home." He goes to walk away but turns back around. "No more guests here. I mean it, Mira."
I smile back at him, though his expression is, once again, more serious than ever. "Thanks, Lance.” He goes to leave, but I stop him. “Hey?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for everything. The mess I made for the family and for ruining your friendship with Mark.” It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Apologizing to him was almost effortless.
“I know you are.” It’s just four words, but his expression says all I need to know. He forgives me.
“Thanks, Lance.” I change the subject quickly, knowing that he isn’t big on emotional talks. “Niles is causing problems again. He admitted that he did this. He needs to be stopped.”
Lance releases a pent-up breath before giving me a reassuring smile. “I’ll handle Niles Tanner.”
When he leaves the office, I’m left with a million thoughts running rampant through my head. I'm going to revamp the design. After I present it to Layla, I'm going to tell Sawyer everything. If I do it now, I risk exposing myself to everyone in the company and there is no way Layla will even give me another shot. Once Sawyer knows and I'm sure where I stand here at Glasson, I'm telling Dad that I'm done hiding. It’s time that Mira Glasson shares her face with the world.
Fashion design is something I've always loved, but I never considered making a career out of it. I always thought I'd end up here, so that's what I've strived for. Excitement at the possibility washes over me. Lance said it himself, this is a family business and I'm family. I can still help Dad while living my life to the fullest.
For the first time in a while, I have hope. I'm ready to take control of my life and it feels damn good.
Chapter Fourteen
Sawyer
Tanner Enterprises reminds me a lot of Glasson, aside from the glass structure. It’s about the same size and parking is just as much of a bitch. I finally manage to find a spot in the far back of the parking lot.
I’ll be meeting with Niles Tanner, the son of the President, Richard Tanner. I didn’t have much time to do any research on the company, but like Glasson, they’re a beverage company. I can only assume that’s how they found out about me and my work. I never applied here, though, I should have. The offer is substantial. I’m actually feeling a little underqualified. I’ve got the degree and the experience, but not for a company of this magnitude.
I finally make it through the maze of cars and walk through the revolving door of the main entrance. There’s a young woman sitting behind a desk who takes off her glasses and sets them down then greets me with a smile. “Good morning. Can I help you?”
“Sawyer Rhodes here to see Niles Tanner.”
She taps away at her computer for a second then hands me a badge. “Clip that on your jacket and just stop here on your way out. Elevator is down the hall to your right. Sixth floor. His assistant will be expecting you.”
“Thank you very much.” I step around the desk and head to the elevator. Once it’s clipped to the pocket of my jacket, I press the elevator button and smooth out my suit.
The doors open and I step in. When I’m at the sixth floor, I check in with the receptionist and before I can have a seat to wait, a gentleman calls my name. I follow the voice and see who I assume to be Niles Tanner. Only, I’ve seen this guy before.
We meet halfway and he extends a hand to me. “Niles Tanner.”
I cock a brow, trying to remember where the hell I met this guy. I reciprocate the gesture. “Sawyer Rhodes. Have we met before?”
He doesn’t answer my question. Instead, he turns and backtracks his steps. “Follow me. We’ll talk in my office.”
I’ve only been in the city for a couple weeks. I’ve seen so many damn faces that I can’t place where I’ve seen him. I’ve definitely seen him somewhere, though. Wouldn’t be Glasson, they’re rivals. The hotel? Is he staying there?
He circles his large desk that is practically the size of the window behind him—unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat.
I do the same, sitting in the chair in front of him.
“Glad you could come in today, Sawyer. As I mentioned on the phone, I’ve got an offer you’d be crazy to refuse.”
“You never answered my question. Have we met?”
The corner of his lip tugs up in an egotistical grin and it unnerves me. Who is this guy and what the hell does he want?
“We’ve got an opening here for a new marketing director, and the job is yours if you want it.”
I sink back into my seat, watching him intently. “What’s the catch?”
He grimaces. “And what makes you think there’s a catch?”
“Is there?”
“I’ve done my research on you, Sawyer. I know you’re newly employed by Glasson Waters. Widowed from Cincinnati. Parents have a small label company. You were the VP until you cut ties with them and fled to Santa Monica. I also know that you frequent Tito’s with a good friend of mine.”
What’s with this guy? He avoided my question, yet again, and now he’s laying my life’s history on the table.
Frequent Tito’s with a friend of his? That’s it. I saw him at Tito’s with Mia. “Are you talking about Mia?”
He flips open a folder and pulls out a picture, takes a good long look at it then hands it to me. Watching him, I take the paper and finally look at it. It’s Mia. “Why do you have this?”