I turned my chair to get a look across the hall at Porter’s office door. He wasn’t at his desk.
“I don’t know about that, Mama.” I held the phone, trying hard not think about it. It was a moment. A moment that we’d vowed not to have again.
“Just be open to whatever happens. Everyone could use a little romance in their life. And by the way, I can hear you frowning through the phone, Ari! You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”
Dammit! I swear, there was no hiding anything from her. “I wasn’t frowning. I swear.”
“Sure, dear. Well, I got to go, sweetheart. I’m meeting Connie, Delores, and the girls at the mall. We’re shopping for our fiftieth high school reunion. Maybe I’ll convince Delores to invest in a girdle. Or what’s it called? Spanx? I’ll call you when I get back. If not, I’ll just see you at choir practice tonight. Love you, daughter.”
I shook my head, laughing, then an idea came to me. Everyone could use a little romance in their life. The conversation with my mother had given me a jolt of inspiration. I put on my headphones, deleted my last designs in REVIT, and did a rough hand-drawn draft of some ideas for the fan experience. Something that would mimic a night in the Serrano vineyards combined with the greens at Wimbledon. Something romantic that could be enjoyed by everyone, every day. After twenty minutes of designing, I’d had something rough around the edges, but I was excited to show Porter.
I jumped out my chair, grabbed my tablet, and headed across the hall. Beaming, I flung the door open to Porter’s office, taking a quick look over my notes. “Hey, Porter, sorry I took so long, I was just finishing up a call with my mom. But she...” When I looked up from my tablet, it took a few seconds to adjust to the sight of Porter in the arms of a woman who looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of Italian Vogue.
I held my tablet firmly with one hand, clutching it against my chest, its weight as heavy as a ton of bricks. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were occupied. I can come back.” The woman was a bronzed slender beauty, tall, with hair up in a topknot, a Louis Vuitton satchel slung on her arm, and designer shades perched on her head. Who was this woman?
“Oh gosh, Porter!” said the woman, playfully tapping Porter’s shoulder. “Is this another one of your secretaries? My God, are they rude! Can’t they see you’re indisposed? Listen, why don’t you be a darling and come back in a few minutes. Or at least bring back a coffee. Black is how you like it, right, Porter?” She then shook her hand dismissively at me.
I know she didn’t! I frowned, putting my free hand on my hip.
“Miss?” I asked, glancing at Porter. Before Porter could respond, the clone of Iman introduced herself.
“No need for Miss, dear. It’s Kai. Kai Mengestu.” Kai stood with one hand perched on the desk, the other still on Porter’s chest. She was so unnaturally contorted that it looked like she was one of those department store mannequins.
I responded calmly. “Well. Ms. Mengestu. I’m not a secretary. I’m a junior associate here, and Porter’s partner on the Serrano stadium project.”
“Oh!” said Kai, shocked. She quickly removed her hand from his chest, smoothing an errant strand of hair out her face. I smirked.
Porter leaned back against the chair in front of his desk. “Kai, this is Ari James. My partner, as she stated, on the Serrano stadium. Ari, this is...”
“Kai!” Kai repeated as she extended her limp hand for a handshake as if she was the Queen. I gave her the quickest of shakes.
“Porter’s partner? Well, isn’t that nice!” said Kai, who looked at me suspiciously.
“Porter, we can pick this up when you’re free. Nice to meet you, Ms. Mengestu.”
“A pleasure,” Kai said in a half-earnest tone.
“Ari, wait...” Porter spoke.
My hand was already on the doorknob when I turned to face him. “Porter, it can wait. Really.”
Annoyed, Porter shoved his hands in his pockets. “Are you sure? Because Kai was just leaving. Right, Kai?” Kai continued scrolling on her phone as if she hadn’t heard a word Porter had said.
I nodded, reassuringly. “Yeah. I’m sure. We’ll catch up when you’re done.”
But not before I set this broad straight.
“Ms. Mengestu. There is free coffee in the lobby. But by the looks of those Gucci shades, I can tell it wouldn’t be up to your standards. Luckily for you, there is a Starbucks on the main floor. By the way, Porter likes his coffee with one cream and one Splenda. Don’t forget to validate.”
Kai audibly gasped, her jaw slack.
Before she could respond, I gave her my most charming of smiles and walked out the door.
Bitch.
Chapter Fourteen
Ari
I stepped off the elevator Monday morning at Riddle and Robinson to see Ms. Gayle, who smiled at me like one of those creepy ventriloquist dolls. It was unsettling.
“Good morning, Ms. Gayle. You must have had an enjoyable weekend,” I said, curious about the unnatural smile plastered on her face.
“Oh, I had a wonderful weekend. But you, my dear, are about to have an incredible morning,” she said, waving me away from the front desk.
“Uhm. Okay?” I frowned, confused. Was it a raise? Did the partners want to give me an office with a window and better ventilation?
I turned down the hall, running into Mr. Robinson, who gave me a slight smile and said, “Ms. James.” I nearly froze in horror. Maybe I was in a parallel universe. That had to be the explanation because Mr. Robinson barely acknowledged me, let alone formed his lips into something that resembled a smile.
I walked cautiously toward my office, and much to my dismay, ran into Greer. He was stirring his coffee-filled Harvard mug in his usual, obnoxiously slow way. I tried to step aside but he deliberately impeded my way. Resisting the urge to knee him in the balls, I faced him. I wasn’t over how snide he continued to be in our weekly meetings, finding reasons to undermine the progress of the stadium design at each step. With each presentation Greer did, he found a reason to sabotage our design. From the placement of seats to the field measurements, he was constantly looking for cracks in our design, and damn if we hadn’t opened the door with that last presentation.
“Morning, Greer,” I groaned, attempting to sidestep him. He followed my steps. I’m sure we resembled a pair of contestants on Dancing with the Stars.
“Hey, James, didn’t know you had a boyfriend. You must have really put it on a brother. Not that I care.”
I folded my arms. “What on earth are you talking about, Greer?” Also, put it on a brother? Greer never ceased to find new ways of making my skin crawl. It was the unexpected gift that kept on giving. Like a cold sore.
“Whatever. Play coy if you must. I was just trying to make polite conversation for a change,” Greer retorted, finally slithering past me down the hall.