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I wish I believed in myself as much as she did. Especially considering I was about to ditch the heels and run out of here.

But then I remembered why I was doing this. I could do anything for my kids. Even interview with a man who intimidated me with only three words.

Gage led me into an office with floor-to-ceiling windows showing the most incredible view. A gorgeous minimalistic desk faced away from the windows, toward a wall of bookshelves packed with every title, leaving no room for decorations or pictures or trinkets.

In fact, there were no photos on his desk, nothing on the walls to show he had a life outside of this office.

Interesting.

Off to the side was a glass table with modern black chairs. He gestured to one of the open chairs, and I took it, saying, “Thank you so much for having me in, Mr. Griffen.”

“You came highly recommended,” he said, reaching for a manila envelope.

“From Mia.” I nodded. “We’ve known each other almost fifteen years now.”

He shook his head as he flipped through the pages in the file. “From your advising professor at Upton University.”

I raised my eyebrows. I had been out of college for over ten years, and even though I kept in touch with Professor Walsh online or with the occasional text message, I hadn’t listed her on my resume.

He held the paper away so he could read the text. “In the past three decades of my career, both as an interior designer and as a professor working with some of the brightest scholars in academia, Farrah Elkins has been, by far, my most talented and hardworking student. She understands client needs in a way most people don’t. She can turn a space from uninspired to beautiful and functional as quick as a whip.” He glanced up from the paper. “Sound like you?”

My mouth opened and closed, stunned at the praise. Stunned by his direct question. “Absolutely,” I said, nodding. “I—”

“Sweet Caroline” began playing from my phone, and I closed my eyes.Please, please no. Not right now.

He raised his eyebrows.

“I need to take this,” I breathed.

Gage nodded, not seeming phased at all. If he wasn’t clearly in real estate, I’d believe he’d earned his fortunes playing poker.

I stepped away from the desk and held my phone to my ear, whispering, “Levi, what’s wrong?”

Screaming came through the line, his younger siblings clearly fighting with each other.

Over the racket, Levi yelled, “There’s only enough peanut butter left for one sandwich, and Cora and Drew are having a fit over it.”

“Did someone get stabbed with a butter knife?” I asked, trying not to turn into the momster I felt like becoming in front of my potential boss.

“No,” Levi mumbled.

“Fridge didn’t suddenly empty of all that food Grandma made?”

“No.”

“Then handle it,” I hissed, turning off my phone. “Sorry about that, my babysitter—”

“No need,” Gage said, cutting me off.

The response took me as much off guard as the man himself. But he waved at the chair as if I should return and began speaking. “The Retreat has completed construction, but we lost our initial interior designer, and we’ve struggled to find a competent replacement who understands our needs. Your portfolio?”

I’d almost forgotten the leather binder in my bag, but I retrieved it and extended it to him. “I prepared several spreads based on the comps I received from Mi—Ms. Baird.”

He waved his hand, silencing me. If I didn’t need this job so badly, I’d be more annoyed at his lack of warmth. Was he always this cold? How had Mia dealt with it for three years?

He flipped through the pages, his hands seeming so large on the book. I sat on the edge of my chair, my heart hammering with anticipation. If only his face would give something away, I’d know if he hated it. If I should just leave now and give up completely. Maybe beg Tires and More for another chance.

“This one.” He tapped at the second inspiration board I’d laid out. “This is closer to what I wanted. But it needs to be more family friendly, less breakable items.”