“What are you talking about?”
Ari waved her hands dismissively. “Nothing. Just forget it.”
We sat in silence for several minutes. I was scrambling, replaying the events of the morning. It couldn’t go down like this. What could I do? It was clear that Ari didn’t have the energy to fight this.
“Porter?” Ari was looking at my face, her brow furrowed in consternation.
My eyes reluctantly met hers. “Let’s just get back to work. Do a little post-presentation analysis. Maybe anticipate any changes the Serranos may have for us with the overall design?”
Ari nodded as she pulled out her laptop. “Great. Let me pull up my notes.”
I leaned against the chair and internally cursed myself for letting the bullshit of this office get the best of me.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ari
My meeting with the partners came days after our stadium presentation, just before the holiday break. I nodded my head and smiled an achingly saccharine smile, thanking them for the opportunity to work on something new. I should have gotten a fucking Oscar for my performance. Best Docile Female in an Office. Immediately, they put me on some smaller projects in the office, the projects other associates didn’t want to touch. I guess their strategy was to bore me to fucking death until I left. Too bad that would not work. I found pleasure in anything. I was going to make the best of this until I left on my own accord. Quitting a job before the new year wasn’t the wisest thing to do. Besides, I hadn’t spent Christmas with my mother in ages. I couldn’t let my mother spend another holiday season alone.
Porter and I were cordial, but we kept our distance. It hurt. Knowing that Greer was willing to use our relationship against us was reason enough to not be seen together. I worked late most nights, avoiding everyone in the office, especially Porter.
As I looked over sketches for a dorm at a private Lutheran college, stuffing my face with takeout Chinese, there was a knock at my door. It was well past eight and I assumed it could only be the janitor doing their usual rounds. Without looking up, I called for whomever to come in.
“Ms. James. I hope I’m not disturbing you,” said a voice in a soft, musical accent.
To my surprise, standing there was Paulo Serrano. I choked, attempting to swallow the last of the chicken lo mein I’d been eating.
“Do you mind if I come in?” Paulo asked, already inside my office. I motioned for him to take a seat in front of my desk, hoping he didn’t take notice of my shaking legs. Had he changed his mind on the design? I couldn’t take any more losses for the year.
“Mr. Serrano. What can I do for you at this hour?” I asked, as I tried to temper the nervousness in my voice and swallow the remaining lo mein in the process.
“Ms. James. I came once again to congratulate you and Mr. Harrison on your design for the stadium. It was phenomenal. You two really work well together. Mr. Riddle told me you two are moving on to other projects individually. That is a shame, Ms. James. Sometimes the best partners are those we work with. I saw the chemistry you two exuded when my wife and I had dinner with you. You two are in love, no?”
Stunned, I smoothed down my gray silk blouse and adjusted myself in my seat. “Well, Mr. Serrano, that would be inappropriate. We were just partners on this project. That is all,” I concluded.
Paulo nodded with a knowing smile. “Ms. James. Ari, if I may. I’m no fool. What the two of you had, just worked. The chemistry. It flowed into the designs you gave us: passionate, creative, full of life. Not that sterile, reductive nonsense Greer presented to us. That’s why we chose your design. I know Mr. Harrison contributed, but I know you were the heart and soul of the design. I’ve seen your previous work. You carry that heart everywhere you go.”
My heart swelled at the compliment. “I appreciate it.”
“Yes. So glad the firm could accommodate the modified timeline. I know us breaking ground on Valentine’s Day is a bit of a stretch. I had to do some negotiating, but permits are in place. Construction is secured. I just cannot wait to see the smile on Marina’s face. Maybe I’ll name it after her. The Marina Center.” Paulo gestured, his hand dancing across the air.
I smiled. Only billionaires could give entire stadiums to their spouses as gifts. “I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled.”
“But I’m not here to talk about the stadium. I have a proposition. So, I’ll cut to the chase, as they say. My brother and I are interested in opening a few resorts on the coast of Spain and Portugal. They would be small, intimate, high-end luxury resorts. I spoke about you with a friend in Madrid. Do you know Claudio Velez?”