The Design(9)

He didn’t wait for Mitch to reply. He dropped his phone onto his desk and indicated for me to enter with a flick of his hand. To him, I was an animal he could beckon forward.

I stared down at my feet and rolled my eyes.

“Take a seat, Cameron.”

God, I hated the way he said my whole name, dragging it out into something formal and ugly. I’d never felt like Cameron; I was Cammie.

He sighed.

“Do you always take this long to process simple instructions?” he asked, obviously annoyed that I hadn’t moved yet.

I stared into his soulless eyes. “You know I’m not intimidated by you.”

What a lie.

The left side of his mouth hitched up, defining a dimple that was usually hidden behind layers of resolve and pompousness. Dimples weren’t meant for CEOs, even young handsome ones.

“Perhaps we should fix that, Ms. Heart. Shut the door.”

The dimple was gone again, replaced with a stern scowl. I huffed and turned to pull the door from its resting place when my eyes locked with Beatrice. My cheeks flushed at the realization that she’d heard my immature outburst, but then she offered me a little thumbs up.

Hmm, maybe I wasn’t the only one in the office who wanted to put Grayson Cole in his place.

Once the heavy door was closed, I turned and made my way to one of two matching chairs in front of Grayson’s desk. They were mid-century modern in design, which meant they were highly impractical for actual use in an office. The metal was too thin to rest my arms on, so I folded my hands in my lap and stared down at the papers on his desk. Familiar symbols jumped out at me and I knew he was working on a residential project—an impressive one at that.

“Should I be concerned about your appearance?” he asked as his eyes fell to my skinned knees and then back to my face. I guess that was as close as he was going to get to “Oh, Cammie, are you okay? Please let me tend to your wounds, my love.”

I shook my head and brushed his concerns aside. The bruising and dried blood were the least of my concerns at that moment.

“Well then, I think we should just cut right to the chase,” he began. “I’ve taken a look at your resume and I’ve seen your projects. You’re a good designer, much better than most of the people that have come into my office today.”

I flicked my gaze up to his face to see if he was being serious. The three lines marring his forehead indicated that he was telling the truth, even if it was a bit painful for him to admit.

“I don’t feel like wasting time with the standard interview questions. I’ve known you for a few years and I think I have a good grasp on what your strengths are, and your weaknesses.”

I had to bite my tongue to resist arguing with him. He didn’t know a thing about me, and he was delusional if he thought he did.

When I didn’t offer a rebuttal, he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers beneath his chin.

“Out of all of your studies, which building has stood out as your favorite? And don’t limit yourself to just Los Angeles.”

I was taken aback by his question, but I didn’t have to think long. I’d known the answer for years.

“The Eiffel Tower,” I answered with a confident nod.

He arched a dark brow. “Really, Ms. Heart? That answer is almost as trite as listing Frank Lloyd Wright as your favorite architect.”

I sat up an inch higher in my chair and narrowed my eyes. “Are you finished, or did you even want to hear my justification?”

The dimple was back and I fidgeted in my seat to keep from staring at it.

“Go ahead,” he answered, genuinely curious. “As long as it has nothing to do with it being a symbol of love.”

I adjusted my pad folio on my lap and smiled. I loved telling the story. I’d researched the Eiffel Tower endlessly, completely enamored by its rich history.

“During its construction, the Eiffel Tower was considered a colossal waste of money, resources, and space. Most of the French creatives at the time—artists, writers, painters—they all protested its creation. They saw it as a disgusting eyesore of bolted sheet metal.”

Grayson nodded, undoubtedly familiar with this part of the story.

“It was never intended to stay past the 1889 Centennial celebrations. It was meant to be demolished shortly after, but when people had a chance to visit it once it was completed, they were taken aback by its immense beauty. Right away, they knew M. Eiffel had created one of the world’s greatest structures, and today, it’s the world’s most visited monument—I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

His brows rose in interest.

“It’s my favorite monument because it serves as a reminder that sometimes it’s the architect’s job to see things before others can. We’re meant to be the visionaries for the communities around us.”

Grayson stayed quiet, contemplating my answer for a minute or two before he nodded and leaned forward in his chair.

“You should get this job, Cameron.” He stared down at his hands on his desk as he spoke. “You’re talented and driven. The only reason I wouldn’t give you the position is because it would be a conflict of interest.”

I frowned. “A conflict of interest?”

He sighed and adjusted his already perfect tie. It was almost as if he were nervous. Almost. “Despite my best efforts to rid myself of it, I’ve always felt an attraction to you, Cameron. I’ve ignored that desire mainly because you’re too young for me. Now, it’s more inappropriate than ever.”