Page 103
Story: Serving the Mogul
“Hey, some suburbs in Houston are considered the best neighborhoods in the country. Prime real estate, great investment potential.” He winked. “And after San Diego? Shit, the cost of living in California is so fucking high now, I can’t afford to live there. I’m not sure where I want to settle, but I’m giving Houston a chance as a first choice.”
“And you’re in my office because…?”
A slow smile curved his lips. There had been a time when that smile had made my heart flutter. Now I could only think how practiced and fake it looked. “I’m job hunting, of course. I handled it badly, coming to your house the other day. Instead of assuming our history gave me a pass on being professional, I should’ve just kept things all business.”
“Job hunting,” I said.
He inclined his head.
I blew out a hard breath and pursed my lips. “Cecil, I’m still getting established. I barely have enough clients to keep the lights on right now. I’m not making enough money, at present, to hire a second designer.”
Cecil shrugged. “We can always do it on a per-project basis. You and I always worked well together.”
We had worked well together. For a while. Thatfor a whilewas the problem, though.
Checking the time, I mentally worked through the schedule for the afternoon. “Tell you what. I’ll think about it. Right now, I’m in the middle of a big job, and I have to run to the construction site. I’ve got an inspection before the crew can start working on the next phase.”
“How exciting,” he said. “Would you mind if I came along?”
* * *
“This is marvelous.”Cecil spoke softly, as he stood next to me, his head tilted back to take in the high ceiling. They had removed the light fixture for refurbishment and repair, but both of us knew how to look beyond that and see the finished project as it should be—wouldbe.
He flipped through the binder that held the project specifications, stopping when he reached the images for the Italian marble that would soon cover the rough concrete under our feet.
“I like,” he murmured, nodding in approval. “Very art deco.”
“I know.” I grinned. As I looked over the lobby, I felt some of the stress from the past few days disappear. The space was empty save for the two of us. The demolition crew had finished up the past Friday, making way for the next stage, and things would move faster once they approved the inspection.
Cecil read my atrocious scrawl with the ease of a longtime co-worker. “Who’s handling this project?”
I was glad I hadn’t turned back to Cecil before he asked that question. I didn’t want him to see my face. “A local guy—family money, but he’s pretty big in the hospitality industry. It’s the first older property he has ever purchased to renovate. This will be a boutique venue, too, so it’s a new project in several ways.”
I pursed my lips and surveyed the area one last time. “I have to get ready for the inspector. Let me show you out.”
“I think you’re doing amazing work here,” Cecil said as I walked with him to his car.
“Thanks. It might be the best job I’ll ever have the privilege to do.” It sounded kind of…lame, saying it out loud, but it was the truth.
Cecil leaned against his black truck and pulled a pair of sunglasses from the breast pocket of his dress shirt. Sliding them on, he said, “I can see that. I’m kind of jealous.”
“Like you don’t have some impressive jobs in your portfolio.” I smiled.
“Well, I do hate to brag…” He feigned buffing his nails.
“Uh huh.” Snorting, I glanced at the car pulling into a spot a few yards down. When a portly older man climbed out, I dismissed him.
Cecil sent me a dashing smile. “Hey, listen…I was wondering if I could take you to dinner tonight.”
“Ah…You must be joking?” I half laughed. My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, hoping, again, that it would be James. But it wasn’t.
“Just dinner between friends, Tina.” He offered a smile. “We haven’t talked in a while. I’ve missed you.”
Thirty-Eight
Maximus
I wasn’tin the best frame of mind when I turned onto the narrow street that led to the small lot behind the Biscayne hotel. The detached parking garage was slated for demolition so reconstruction could begin in the coming weeks and currently, it was blocked off.
“And you’re in my office because…?”
A slow smile curved his lips. There had been a time when that smile had made my heart flutter. Now I could only think how practiced and fake it looked. “I’m job hunting, of course. I handled it badly, coming to your house the other day. Instead of assuming our history gave me a pass on being professional, I should’ve just kept things all business.”
“Job hunting,” I said.
He inclined his head.
I blew out a hard breath and pursed my lips. “Cecil, I’m still getting established. I barely have enough clients to keep the lights on right now. I’m not making enough money, at present, to hire a second designer.”
Cecil shrugged. “We can always do it on a per-project basis. You and I always worked well together.”
We had worked well together. For a while. Thatfor a whilewas the problem, though.
Checking the time, I mentally worked through the schedule for the afternoon. “Tell you what. I’ll think about it. Right now, I’m in the middle of a big job, and I have to run to the construction site. I’ve got an inspection before the crew can start working on the next phase.”
“How exciting,” he said. “Would you mind if I came along?”
* * *
“This is marvelous.”Cecil spoke softly, as he stood next to me, his head tilted back to take in the high ceiling. They had removed the light fixture for refurbishment and repair, but both of us knew how to look beyond that and see the finished project as it should be—wouldbe.
He flipped through the binder that held the project specifications, stopping when he reached the images for the Italian marble that would soon cover the rough concrete under our feet.
“I like,” he murmured, nodding in approval. “Very art deco.”
“I know.” I grinned. As I looked over the lobby, I felt some of the stress from the past few days disappear. The space was empty save for the two of us. The demolition crew had finished up the past Friday, making way for the next stage, and things would move faster once they approved the inspection.
Cecil read my atrocious scrawl with the ease of a longtime co-worker. “Who’s handling this project?”
I was glad I hadn’t turned back to Cecil before he asked that question. I didn’t want him to see my face. “A local guy—family money, but he’s pretty big in the hospitality industry. It’s the first older property he has ever purchased to renovate. This will be a boutique venue, too, so it’s a new project in several ways.”
I pursed my lips and surveyed the area one last time. “I have to get ready for the inspector. Let me show you out.”
“I think you’re doing amazing work here,” Cecil said as I walked with him to his car.
“Thanks. It might be the best job I’ll ever have the privilege to do.” It sounded kind of…lame, saying it out loud, but it was the truth.
Cecil leaned against his black truck and pulled a pair of sunglasses from the breast pocket of his dress shirt. Sliding them on, he said, “I can see that. I’m kind of jealous.”
“Like you don’t have some impressive jobs in your portfolio.” I smiled.
“Well, I do hate to brag…” He feigned buffing his nails.
“Uh huh.” Snorting, I glanced at the car pulling into a spot a few yards down. When a portly older man climbed out, I dismissed him.
Cecil sent me a dashing smile. “Hey, listen…I was wondering if I could take you to dinner tonight.”
“Ah…You must be joking?” I half laughed. My phone buzzed. I glanced at it, hoping, again, that it would be James. But it wasn’t.
“Just dinner between friends, Tina.” He offered a smile. “We haven’t talked in a while. I’ve missed you.”
Thirty-Eight
Maximus
I wasn’tin the best frame of mind when I turned onto the narrow street that led to the small lot behind the Biscayne hotel. The detached parking garage was slated for demolition so reconstruction could begin in the coming weeks and currently, it was blocked off.
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