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And there’s Kathleen Allen, sitting by herself – well, with her assistant – down at the far end of the table. It’s cute. They look like they’re having their own conference about butterflies and ball-busting.

“I hope you realize our hesitations,” Lara says twenty minutes into the meeting. Finally, we are cutting to the chase. “The Ace is a staple in the community. One of the reasons we haven’t done anything with it is because, quite frankly, we don’t want to deal with any backlash that comes with compromising a historical institution, no matter how much help it needs right now. Sure, we could simply sell it to you…” She leans back in her chair, cleavage on full display in her button-up black blouse that isn’t really buttoned up. My father is totally looking. “Even if you screw it up, it’s our asses people will flay forever. For selling it to you.”

“We completely understand.” My father, who thinks he’s Earth’s greatest diplomat, sits up straight and spreads out his hands. You think Kathleen told you that I have a smug face? Nothing compares to my father’s. Only he looks like a grandfather now, so people think it’s cute. I know the truth. Deep down, he’s as capable of being as slimy and cunning as anyone else. Yes, even me. Well, maybe not slimy. “That’s why we’ve brought you the full proposals for you to take home and consider. Ira?”

That’s my cue. In my briefcase, I have the full proposals we and the team at my father’s office put together over the past few weeks. I display them now, carefully, each sheet of paper impeccably laid out so both Anderssens can see the full picture, so to speak.

“As you can see,” I say, keeping my voice steady, “we have put every attention into the details. Wright and Co. are the designers we’re working with. Together, we’ve concocted this historically accurate design. We don’t want to update The Ace. We want to take it back in time to its former glory.”

The couple glances over the pictures. They exchange looks. Whatever they shared in that second… I have no idea. I don’t speak Couple, let alone Married Couple with a Business. It could be good. It could be bad.

It’s probably something Kathleen should be paying attention to, but she’s knee-deep in her briefcase looking for her part of the project. Before the Anderssens can notice this, I lean in and put my elbow on the table, effectively blocking their view. Never say I don’t look out for her. Or my own ass, for that matter.

“These are lovely… sketches.” Pursing her lips as if I showed her a clown juggling a litter of puppies, Lara pushes from the drawings with a dramatic sigh. “Doesn’t really matter what we think, Mathison. What matters is what the public thinks. The community board.”

“You have to admit that it’s very true to the original design of the building.”

“Sure. And people thought we should bring back bell-bottom pants.” Lara shrugs.

Her spouse isn’t much more committed. “Besides, there’s another part to your plan, isn’t there? Something about a local museum. We have to consider that as well. It sounds good on paper, but depending on how it’s executed…”

“Ah, yes. I believe Ms. Allen is heading up that end of the bargain.” My father motions behind me to the young blonde whispering to her assistant. The plain girl dressed in a plainer sweater dress lets out a squeak and searches through her bags for whatever the hell it is they’ve misplaced. Probably their designs for the museum, because of course.

“Um…” Kathleen thumbs through a stack of papers but doesn’t seem to find what she wants. “Just a second…”

My father has that look on his face. The fake look. The fake look that says, “Kathleen Allen, I’m smiling, but if you don’t get your shit together in two seconds I’m firing your ass.”

“Wright and Co. is a spectacular design firm.” I point to the picture nearest me and make further comments on the aesthetic Houston Wright picked. Everything is decorous, with grays and beiges accentuating the true-to-time-period stone and woodwork that remains in the building. The wood will have to be replaced since the inspector says there’s rot. The stone’s still good, but Wright understood to keep the wood in the redesign. It will be replaced. Copied, but replaced.

“Found it!” Kathleen slaps a paper on the table. A single paper.

Is she kidding us? She has to be kidding us. Did they even use a designer? It looks like a kindergartener scratched some shit together while waiting for his parents to pick him up from school. The lines aren’t straight. The shading is… nonexistent. I’m almost embarrassed for her. Except I can see a look of disappointment on her face…

This is not what she’s supposed to show. This is probably the rough draft the designer provided, and someone botched bringing the real thing.

I could scream at her. Except I don’t scream. I’ve picked up my parents’ ability to sit and silently judge with a single stare. I hope she feels it burning through her sinew.

Because she might have fucked this all up for us.

The corner of Lara’s mouth twitches. “How quaint. I can see the vision coming into play.”

Oh, God. Kathleen Allen, I hope you can hear me right now. I hope you know how much you fucked up. I hope you can appreciate that I am sitting between you and my father right now. If my father was close enough to you? He would pull some old-school shit and snatch that crap you call a design draft, crumple it up in his hand, and force your incompetent assistant to eat it.

I know you’re better than this. I know what you did for that library out east. Or was it libraries? Doesn’t matter. Point is, I know you are better than this. You don’t forget things. You hold grudges and still judge a dumbass for her period ten years ago. You’re impeccable. You graduated at the top of your high school class because of how organized you are and how much attention you pay to details.

So what the fuck is going on?

And why am I so flustered?

I get it! This is my ass on the line, and I’m embarrassed by extension. Embarrassed for you right now, and embarrassed for my father, who hired you through your father to make this happen. I’m embarrassed for your father. I’m embarrassed for my mother, and she’s not even a part of this!

I’m embarrassed for everyone. What a way to go down, Kathleen. What a way.

The Anderssens are gracious people. They may be weirdos, they may be flirtatious jerks, but hey, they’re gracious. They’re nice enough to overlook this for now because they also know you’re better than this. Plus, they want to sell that property and will give us a second chance.

“Tell you what, Mathison,” Kennedy says to both my father and me. “We have to talk this over with the community council anyway. We’ll arrange for you to make a presentation.” She looks at the sorry excuse on the table. “A proper one. It’ll be two weeks from now. If they sign off on it, we’ll talk numbers.”

My father contains a sigh of relief, but I can tell from his twitching arms that he’s shaking inside. Watch out, Kathleen. He might come for your throat at this rate. Me? I’m glad this is ending as well as it is. The Anderssens are reasonable. They know this is a mistake. My father only sees incompetence.