I tap my pen on my notepad as I study the concept design I’ve drawn for the roof of the Chicago hotel. After doing some calculations, I turn to my other computer screen and scroll through the U.S. Green Building Council website, checking over the information on their certification requirements. I take a few notes, then put my pen down and stretch.
It’s Friday, and I’ve made it through my first week with the King Group. Aside from the confrontation with Cole on Monday, it’s been great. I scan my surroundings and smile. They’ve given us an impressive office, filled with sleek, modern workbenches, ergonomic chairs, and several drafting tables. Large windows line two walls, allowing natural light to flood in and giving the space an airy, open feel. A small kitchen area with a fridge, microwave, and coffee machine is located at the far end.
My desk sits in the corner, facing the rest of the room. The double computer screens block most of my view, which is great for preventing distractions. Although it also blocks me from seeing who’s approaching. It’s only when the familiar waft of Paul’s aftershave—which he always applies a little too liberally—reaches me that I’m alerted to his presence.
He peers at me over the screens, and I smile up at him. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Cole’s asked for a status meeting in ten.”
My stomach twists. “With all of us?”
He nods. “I offered to give him a rundown myself, but he wants the entire team there.”
Not seeing any sign of Cole since Monday has given me a false sense of security, but at least he won’t make any more insulting accusations if there’s a room full of people.
I hope not, anyway.
I stand, grab my notepad and pen, and follow everyone as we file into the elevator to take us to the executive floor. After shuffling to the side to let in a straggler, my attention is caught by Philippa, who’s been in the office this morning in her liaison role. She’s standing close to Paul, and as I watch, he leans down to her so she can murmur something into his ear.
A spike of unease hits me at their easy familiarity. And not for the first time, I wonder if there might have been something between the two of them while Paul was in the UK. It would explain her barely veiled animosity toward me. I asked Paul once, not long after she joined our office. He denied it.
The thought gets pushed to the side as we enter the conference room, and I can’t stop myself from looking toward the head of the table. The chair is empty, and the tension in my shoulders loosens. I make my way to the seat furthest away. There’s no point in making this situation more uncomfortable than I need to.
While we wait, I open my notepad and sketch out some ideas that have been running through my head since I saw the updates to the USGBC website. I don’t look up as the conference room door opens again, although my body is all-too aware of his entry. I wish it wasn’t. Having my pulse automatically speed up as soon as I sense his presence—and not just from nervousness—has guilt washing over me. Particularly with Paul sitting only a few seats away.
When Cole speaks, I force myself to turn and face him. The last thing I need is to be called out for unprofessionalism. Thankfully, his eyes aren’t on me. Now that he’s figured out I didn’t attempt to con my way into this job––or his bed––he’ll pay no more attention to me than any other of the hundreds of people working in this building.
“We’re facing a tight deadline,” Cole says. “I intend to have regular meetings to make sure the timeline doesn’t slip. During these meetings, I expect progress updates from each of you.” He turns his attention to Paul. “I also expect a written update from you on the overall status of the project, and I want it in my inbox every Friday morning.”
My brows draw together. Am I imagining it, or did his tone become curter when he spoke to Paul? If Paul notices, he doesn’t show it. He just nods his acknowledgement.
We spend the next hour going around the room, and everyone shares their updates. I’m not as prepared as I should be when his steely eyes land on me. “Miss West,” he says, and this time I’m sure I’m not imagining the coolness of his tone.
“I’m working on the concept for the Chicago property. I’m on schedule and have completed several preliminary designs and conceptual sketches, but . . .” I pause and out of the corner of my eye, I see Paul’s head swing toward me. Should I say anything? I haven’t discussed any of this with him yet. My plan was to feed this information up the chain through him, but since I can’t avoid interacting with Cole, I might as well mention it now.
“What is it?” Cole sounds impatient, and I almost lose my nerve.
But then I straighten in my seat. This is where my expertise lies. He doesn’t get to make me doubt myself just because he’s a rich, entitled asshole. I look him straight in the eye. “I’ve been checking the USGBC website, which provides the LEED certification requirements, and I’ve done some calculations.”
He doesn’t say anything, just picks up his pen and rolls it between his fingers while he leans back in his chair and pins me with his gaze.
I clear my throat. “My initial thoughts were to install a solar panel array on the roof, but I think there’ll be significant value in installing a green roof as well. It will help reduce the urban heat island effect and provide natural insulation, reduce energy use for heating and cooling, and help to manage stormwater runoff and improve air quality. Besides the solar panel array and the other sustainability systems we’re already looking at incorporating, a green roof will result in a higher LEED certification.”
“Delilah—” Paul starts, but Cole cuts him off.
“Won’t the solar panels take up all the space on the roof?”
“Yes, but there are ways we can have both. In fact, we can design it so that the two systems complement each other. For example, we can install solar panels that generate electricity from both the top and bottom, which will take advantage of the reflected sunlight from the green roof. In turn, the panels provide shade for the plants. A green roof reduces the heat absorbed by the building, which can actually improve the efficiency of the panels.”
“And how much extra will this cost?” Cole asks, his expression inscrutable.
I wince internally but aim to keep my face as expressionless as his. “I haven’t finished calculating the cost estimates, but with the modifications needed, it would add a significant amount of upfront costs. With the higher LEED certification, however, you’ll be eligible for additional incentives, potentially including government grants.”
Cole’s eyes fix on mine, and my cheeks heat under the intensity of his gaze.
I wet my lips. “The preliminary plan I originally drew up is ready to go, but it only includes the solar panel array. Paul has it at the moment. But if you’re interested in considering the green roof, I can send those to him as well, and you can discuss them together.”
Cole rocks forward on his chair and places his pen in front of him. “I would prefer you talk me through it.”
My eyes dart to Paul, and I catch the scowl on his face. We might have words about this later, but it’s too late to worry about that now.
“I’m sure Paul can—”
“Don’t hide behind your . . .” His infinitesimal pause has me wondering if he’ll say boyfriend. Thank goodness he doesn’t. “Project manager. If you’re asking the company to take on additional expenses, I expect you to be able to justify it. Contact Samson and organize a time to meet with me this week.”
I swallow. Great, another meeting with Cole. “Yes, Mr. King.”
Something flickers across his face, but before I can identify it, he looks down at the tablet in front of him. “I think that wraps things up, so I’ll see you all next Friday. Miss West, I expect to see you before then.”
I nod, then push back my chair and stand with the team. Paul’s presence looms behind me as we leave the room, and I try to avoid the coming confrontation by making a beeline for the elevator. Before I can get there, he grabs my arm.
“Delilah, when we get back downstairs, I’d like to see you in my office.”
My shoulders slump and I turn, my gaze catching on a pair of icy blue eyes. They drop, then narrow when they reach Paul’s hand clamped around my arm. Instead of saying something, Cole turns and strides toward his office.
I follow Paul to the elevator. Everyone else has already gone down, so we wait together for its return.
“What was that?” he hisses. “You should have raised your proposal with me before presenting it to Cole.”
“This is an update meeting, isn’t it? If he doesn’t like the idea, he can say no.”
“It’s not your place. I’m the project manager. Cole isn’t going to appreciate a junior architect making suggestions that will cost his company a lot of money. Plus, I don’t appreciate you going over my head like that.”
The elevator arrives, and Paul steers me in.
As soon as the doors close, I tug away from him. “Well, Cole wants to talk about it, so he can’t have hated the idea that much.”
“Don’t go around calling him Cole, either. It’s Mr. King to you.”
I stare at him, wondering why he’s being so pompous. He’s right, though. I shouldn’t be so familiar. A flush warms my cheeks as Paul eyes me. “Let’s not argue about it. From now on, I’ll make sure to go through you first.”
He looks a little appeased. “I’ll join you during your meeting and we can all discuss it together.”
I nod, my irritation with Paul’s attitude offset by my relief at not having to face Cole—Mr. King—alone.
Another one-on-one encounter with him is the last thing I need.
