The Design(61)

I’d tried to think of some way around it. At first, I thought of creating my own fake architecture firm so that I could leave Grayson and Cole Designs out of it completely, but I knew that wouldn’t work. If I truly wanted to proceed with my submission, I’d have to break into his office, find a piece of letterhead, and forge his signature. The thought didn’t sit well with me for obvious reasons. I would have never started my own design submission if I had known how far I would have had to drag Grayson into it with me.

As the elevator continued to rise, I thought of all the ways that I was playing with fire. Submitting my own design and stealing company letterhead were both in violation of company policy. Those two things were bad enough, but paled in comparison to the idea of betraying Grayson.

Was it truly that important for me to submit my own designs? I’d completed them and I knew they were really good. Why couldn’t that be enough?

I couldn’t fully explain it. A part of me needed to submit my own design just so I could prove to Alan that I was capable of great work. Another part of me felt like I was rebelling against every “Alan” I’d had to deal with in the architecture world. In college, I’d been forced to watch my male classmates receive internships and design awards not because of their talent, but because they were part of the boys’ club. Misogynistic males ruled the design world and I was sick of sitting on the sidelines.

When the elevator doors opened, I glanced down at the manila envelope in my hands. It held all the keys to a great design, and it was stamped, labeled, and ready to be sealed once I had the letterhead to add to it. I cringed at the idea of having to trash my design, especially when I knew I had a real chance of winning. On the other hand, if I chose to proceed I’d be jeopardizing everything Grayson and I had built in the last few weeks.

I stepped into the office and stood for a moment, surveying the dark room. No one was there yet. My meeting with my table-mates wasn’t due to start for another twenty minutes, but Alan would probably arrive five minutes early, so I had to get a move on if I still wanted to find a piece of letterhead.

I set my things down on my desk and did a quick run-through of the office, just to ensure there were no accountants or interior designers trying to get an early start to the day.

The office was empty and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. If someone had been there, my decision would have been made up for me. Instead, I was alone with my options and still unsure of what I wanted to do.

Either way, time was running out. If I wanted to proceed with the next part of my plan, I needed to do it now.

My hands shook as my conscience warred with me to stop.

If you break into his office, you’ll ruin his trust in you.

If you break into his office, he’ll never forgive you.

I couldn’t give up yet, though. My design was good and I wanted someone to recognize that. I moved toward Grayson’s door, slowly, and without real intent. I can still turn back at any time. Once I stood in front of it, I glanced over my shoulder and tried the door handle.

Unlocked.

I sighed; one less thing I’d have to feel guilty about. Was I technically even breaking in if the door was unlocked?

“YES!” my conscience screamed at me.

But maybe it was a sign that I was meant to proceed?

My heart rate picked up as I slipped past his door. This is wrong. I’m a bad person. I tried my best to ignore the nagging thoughts in the back of my mind.

I walked straight to his desk and pushed his heavy leather chair out of the way. His mahogany desk was annoyingly clean, which meant there were no stray pieces of letterhead waiting for me there.

My gut told me that I was doing the wrong thing. Grayson meant more to me than this dumb submission. Right? But, at the same time, just because I got a piece of his letterhead, didn’t mean that I had to go through with the plan. I can still stop at any time. I’d get the piece of his letterhead and then decide.

I checked my watch and then turned to his desk drawers. The top left drawer was completely filled with office supplies: pens, pencils, paperclips, and a stapler. I moved to the drawer beneath it but it was locked and so was the drawer at the very bottom. I cursed under my breath and shot to the other side of the desk. I could feel a cold sweat trickle down my neck and I knew my time was running out. If Alan decided to show up ten minutes early instead of five, he’d catch me red-handed.

Grayson’s top right desk drawer was unlocked, but it was full of junk: stray business cars and rubber bands. I rifled through its contents to no avail.

Shit. Shit. Shit. If I didn’t find a piece of his letterhead, the committee wouldn’t accept my design submission and I’d have snooped around his things in vain. I had to find at least one piece.

I tried to pull open the second drawer on the right only to find that it was locked. The rest of the drawers were all locked as well, which meant I had to revert to plan B. I reached for the bobby pin I’d set down on top of his desk and finagled it into the small gap in the lock. Five seconds passed and it didn’t budge. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. I rotated the bobby pin in every direction and tried to shove it into the hole as far back as I possibly could. Nothing helped. Maybe lock-picking wasn’t quite as easy as it looked in the movies.

I shoved my bobby pin back into my hair and mulled over every idea I could think of. Maybe he kept his stationery somewhere else? No. It would definitely be in one of his desk drawers. I sighed and pulled open the top right drawer again, looking for anything that could help me.