Page 23 of Falling for a Grumpy Hero
LILA
O n Monday morning, I was in my office and wondering if Ford was going to make an appearance today.
Things between us had seemed better at the barbecue.
Although neither of us had mentioned the kiss, the conversation we’d ended up having had been a lot deeper and more meaningful than discussing something that was probably better left forgotten.
A soft sigh escaped as I thought about it, already knowing I would never forget even if it sure would make things easier if I did. That had been the most powerful, rawest kiss I’d ever had. A girl didn’t magically forget something like that.
My computer chimed with an email alert and I tore my gaze away from the empty hallway I’d been absently staring at. As my gaze moved to the screen, I found a message waiting for me from Eliza. She wanted to meet for lunch.
I glanced at Ford’s office out of instinct. I knew he wasn’t here, but now that meant I couldn’t ask if it was okay if I met with a client without him.
Last week, I’d honestly thought he’d been avoiding the office because of our kiss, but at the barbecue, I’d found out that it was pretty normal for him during the summer, seeing as how the job sites were moving at a hundred percent this time of year.
A whole week away had seemed excessive even to Judith, who’d told me that Ford liked to be hands-on at the sites, but still. No one had seemed overly surprised that he was spending so much of his time at this specific site, especially knowing how hard he’d worked at winning the contract.
As it occurred to me that this exact relationship I had with the client was what had won us that contract to begin with, I replied yes, agreeing to meet her despite not having cleared it with Ford. If he had a problem with it, well, he’d have to just try to come at me again.
Within two hours, I was sitting at a bistro I knew I couldn’t afford with Eliza, who had already ordered for us by the time I’d arrived. She had an assortment of appetizers on the table as well as a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket beside her.
I’d dealt with high-profile clients before when I’d been working at the gallery, but this wasn’t New York City and I wasn’t sure CE would appreciate me drinking alcohol on my lunch break. Eliza hadn’t even asked, though.
Simply pouring some into my glass as I’d crossed the polished floor toward her, she smiled, her lips painted a deep, gorgeous red today to match the vibrant dress she had on. “I loved those designs you sent over. You truly are talented, Lila.”
“Thank you.” I picked up my wine, deciding that I’d have it regardless of what the people at CE might say. I had to keep the client happy, right? “How are you, Eliza? I hear work is progressing nicely at the house.”
“Oh, it is,” she said excitedly, but she didn’t seem to be interested in talking about it very much.
“We’re extremely happy so far, but I wanted to meet with you to discuss your sketches.
I feel like you looked right into my brain while you were working on them.
Honestly, I was blown away by your talent, darling. ”
My eyebrows hiked a little higher. “Blown away? Wow. I’m flattered. I mean, obviously, they’re not actual designs, but I got excited after we talked that day and when I was done, I thought you might like to see them.”
She flipped her long, graying black hair over her shoulder and sent me a wide, albeit slightly puzzled smile. “Darling, they are actual designs. Amazing ones, at that.”
My eyes widened and a deep sense of satisfaction settled into my very soul.
Here was a real client, a woman who was well-known in the art world no less, and she thought I was talented.
If that wasn’t validation, I didn’t know what was and I grinned, so freaking grateful that she’d even looked at my sketches.
“Well, thank you. I had a lot of fun doing them for you and I’m glad you like them.”
Those bright, dark eyes held mine intently, and I suddenly got the feeling she hadn’t only asked me here to give me the compliment in person.
“I want you to know that I heard what you said the other day when you told me that you’re not a qualified interior designer yet.
I haven’t forgotten, but I still want to hire you as our designer. It would be a paid, contracted role.”
Shock trickled through me like an egg made of ice had been cracked over my head. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused,” she teased. “Only if you agree to take the job, though. I’m serious about this.
I really do love your work and I’ve never been one to let a piece of paper hold me back.
You and I connect, Lila. No one else has been able to produce exactly what I was imagining as accurately as you did. ”
“Uh, thank you. I am so honored that you’d think of me, but I’m Ford’s assistant and…” I trailed off, so gobsmacked that I honestly didn’t know what else to say. “I really am honored.”
“Don’t be honored.” She laughed. “Be my designer. You and I understand each other, darling. You’re an artist at heart. I’ve known it all along and I want to work with you regardless of whether you’ve got a certificate saying you can do it.”
“I’m sure that there are plenty of qualified designers that you could?—”
“I’ve already spoken to them,” she said flippantly, as if it didn’t even really matter. “No one else’s vision has come close to yours and yours is what I want. What I was envisioning. Please say yes?”
We were interrupted by her phone ringing and she smiled. “Excuse me. I should take this.”
She didn’t leave the table, simply leaning back in her seat as she picked up the device and pressed it to her ear after sliding her thumb across the screen. “I’m still in that meeting, honey.”
Her face dropped at whatever was being said by the person on the other end of the line—presumably Rodrigo. Horror slackened her jaw before she blinked hard. “My God, that’s awful. I’ll be right home. Have you called 911?”
My heart started pounding as I listened to her. It sounded like something had gone wrong at the site. Like someone had gotten hurt. She paused for a beat and my stomach went ice cold, my hands developing a tremor out of sheer terror.
“Alright.” She twisted in her seat, her phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder. She rummaged through her purse. Coming back with her wallet, she opened it and slid a few bills out. “Okay. I’m on my way.”
After she hung up, she gave me an apologetic smile. “One of the workers at the house got hurt. It’s being taken care of, but I should go. Think about my offer. I want you and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
“Who is it? Who got hurt?” I asked urgently, shooting up when she stood. “Do you mind if I catch a ride with you? If it’s one of our people, I should be there.”
My senses were tingling and I quickly fell into step beside her when she nodded. We raced to her car, worry etched into the lines of her face. She turned over the engine and finally glanced at me once we were on the road.
“I don’t know who it is, darling,” she said quietly. “All I know is that it sounds like chaos over there and whoever it is doesn’t want the paramedics to treat them.”
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Ford was on that job site and he wouldn’t give a shit if someone refused to receive care. He’d insist that they be taken care of anyway, which meant…
I was in shambles by the time we arrived, but as I’d expected, it was him who had been hurt. He was sitting down, waving off several other men who were trying to tend to him as an ambulance left, unhurried and with the lights off.
The knots in my stomach tightened and I jumped out of the car before Eliza had even come to a complete stop, almost tripping over my own feet in my rush to get to him.
Frantic with worry, I raced over, laser-focused on his ashen face and the figure he cut sitting on that step, hunched over and barking at everyone around him.
“Are you okay?” I asked, skidding to a stop when I came close enough. “What happened?”
He looked up at me with pain in his eyes, but his voice was deadpan. “Why are you here?”
I ignored his question, my gaze raking all over him.
Bile shot up the back of my throat when I noticed a shiny, darker patch where blood was soaking through his Carhartt work pants.
My hands trembled and my heart was absolutely pounding, but I took the last couple steps closer to him on shaky legs and bent over to roughly grab the truck keys half hanging out of his pocket.
“Can you walk?” I snapped and straightened up with his keys biting into the palm of my hand. “Because we’re leaving. I’m taking you to the emergency room whether you want to go or not.”