Living in Spain gave Porter the clarity he needed, realizing that architecture hadn’t truly made him happy. Porter spent much of the time in Spain working on his art, exhibiting his work in several small, well-respected galleries, and selling pieces. He was truly at peace and happy to have found his calling, without the Harrison name behind him.
My time at the Claudio Velez Firm was amazing. Velez and I had designed four award-winning resorts for the Serranos. All housing James Beard-award-winning chefs, much to Porter’s greedy delight. When I resigned, Mr. Velez begged me to stay, enticing me by raising my salary by almost double. He even said he’d hire Porter if it would make me happy. “He’s okay,” he said. “But I like you much better.” I laughed. I told Velez that I appreciated the opportunity, but we were both homesick. He understood.
I watched as Mr. George put the finishing touches on the logo on the door. My mother walked over, deliberately sauntering, swaying her ample hips to bring him a bottle of water from the makeshift cooler. He smiled widely in eager anticipation. A lot had changed in the three years since we had been away—like my mom and Mr. George dating. She said it started with her asking him to help her with some small renovations in her condo. The next thing you know, he asked her to dinner every weekend. I couldn’t believe it. Mom assured me she wasn’t trying to be the next Mrs. Flores, but she was happy. Mom had even met his kids, and they adored her. She was learning Spanish for an upcoming trip to Ecuador. It wasn’t going so well. Beyond learning “agua” and asking where the “ba?o” was, Doris was hopeless.
Just then, a streak of green and blue tulle swished past, almost knocking me down as they grabbed my legs.
“Sasha! Malia! Get off your Auntie Ari!” yelled Bella as she carried in a box of cupcakes and a thick notebook that I knew was her event planning bible. As usual, she was deliberately overdressed for move-in day in heels, a cardigan, and jeans. She was more invested in planning the welcome party for our new clients than moving boxes. When we opened our firm, we had no problem finding clients, including some former clients of Riddle and Robinson. The endorsement by the Serrano brothers and Claudio Velez certainly helped.
Bella put the cupcakes and the notebook on the receptionist’s desk. I had a tinge of sadness looking at the still vacant area. Ms. Gayle had turned down our offer to be our new office manager, saying she’d rather “monitor the old men” and retire with them. Ms. Gayle promised she would visit us from time to time to make sure that we were doing alright.
The twins released me and ran into the arms of my mother, who gave them kisses on each cheek, and then to Porter, who picked both girls up and allowed them to give him a big bear hug. Porter had instantly become Sasha and Malia’s favorite new person.
Bella turned to the notebook and began talking a mile a minute. “Listen, I know you don’t want to think about it, but I need to know your decision for the open bar. Are we doing a champagne toast at the end? Any particular brand? Also, we need to pick high-boy linen colors. I was thinking gold. I brought cupcakes from the baker to taste. Also, centerpieces...”
I put my hands on Bella’s shoulders. “Relax, Bella. It’s okay. Whatever you decide, I’m here for it. I know it’s going to be beautiful.”
Bella took a deep breath and smirked. “I mean, I want to make sure this is perfect for you. This is a major event. Besides, it isn’t like I helped plan your wedding.”
I looked down at my ring and bit my lip, feeling just a little guilty that my best friend wasn’t there at one of the biggest moments of my life. Porter and I eloped in Spain six months after our arrival. Despite not having family there, our wedding day was perfect. We were married early morning in a small, village Catholic church. We signed the registry, and that was it. My mother almost had an AME-holy-ghost-fit when she learned it was in Catholic church. Eventually, Doris forgave us. Since dating Mr. George, she’d learned to appreciate a few “Hail Mary and we out of here” church services.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to face my intern Justina, who wore a Georgia Tech sweatshirt and sneakers. Her partner Lakshmi, a cute, petite dark-haired beauty, was by her side, holding a box.
“Welcome to your new home, Justina! I hope you found your office up to par. I’m still getting used to the massive layout,” I said as I hugged her with a smile.
“Of course, Ari. It’s beautiful. I can’t thank you enough. This is going to be amazing,” Justina said as she squeezed Lakshmi’s hand. We were lucky one of the top firms hadn’t snagged Justina. After winning several design awards in undergrad, Justina was a rising star in architecture in the city. After graduation, she worked a bit at Riddle and Robinson but left when she and Greer butted heads. No surprise there. Since making partner, word on the street was that Greer had become even more of a raging egomaniac. Even Jacobi left the firm to pursue one of his hidden passions: drag performance. He was a contestant on America’s Top Drag Superstar. He looked amazing but was terrible at lip syncing, though. He was eliminated on the second episode.
Lakshmi shifted the box in her hand. “It is very gorgeous. And is that a picture of a roller coaster in the foyer?”
“It be a train! Da boy painted a blasted train!” yelled Desmond from the foyer as he repositioned the painting for the hundredth time.
I watched Porter as he walked toward me, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a fitted gray V-neck shirt. He was still so sexy, even now with a little gray around his temples. He handed me a bottle of water and took a cupcake from Bella, who slapped his hand away playfully.
“Are you sure you don’t want to call the firm Harrison Squared, Mrs. Harrison?” said Porter, sinking his teeth into a tower of mint-colored frosting.
I kissed him on the cheek, wiping a little frosting at the corner of his mouth with my finger. “Honey, we’ve had this conversation. I’m Ari James at work. Besides, James-Harrison Designs sounds...”
“Like an old white dude,” said Todd in passing with a wink.
I shook my head. “I was going to say astute,” yelling in Todd’s direction. “Besides, everyone knows I’m your wife. And if you change it now, Mr. George is going to kill you. He just spent an hour putting that logo on the entrance. If he doesn’t kill you, my mama will on his behalf.”
Porter looked at me, a sly grin on his face. “Girl, you know your mama loves me.”
I folded my arms. “Yes, PJ. Everyone loves you. Or will love you.”
Porter looked at me quizzically. “Will?”
“Yes, Porter.” I reached in my bag and handed Porter a small box. “Will.”