AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It wasn’t an everyday occurrence that four teenagers were taken in by a woman richer than a Saudi Sheik. Carson would think someone in Neil’s position would be a little more appreciative, a little less obnoxious and entitled. But Neil Harrison slipped into the role of rich douche bag so effortlessly.
She hadn’t planned for a confrontation last night, but it had happened. And it had gone exactly how she would have expected. Their mutual dislike for one another had won out. But in between their exchanges of sarcasm and disdain, Neil Harrison’s scrutinizing stare was unnerving. As if he saw through her. As if he knew her secret—the one she’d spent years fighting to keep hidden.
But she knew his secret. She still didn’t have a clear answer as to why he raced last night but she recognized all too well the darkness that emanated from his eyes. She knew firsthand how easy it was to let the darkness take over, to let the speed of the road engulf you, suck you in until you’re so deep it’s impossible to climb back out.
Her heart went out to him, something she never let happen, to anyone, for any reason. But something about the loneliness in Neil’s eyes spoke to her.
“You don’t look like you’re concentrating hard enough.”
The thick sound of her father’s voice wafted from over her left shoulder. She turned slowly, mentally preparing herself for criticism. It was inevitable. It’s what he did best.
“Hi Dad.”
As usual, Carson Kelly II wore a suit topped off with his steel-toed boots and black hard hat. The fact that his current surroundings were a working construction site did nothing to deter him from dressing in anything less than Hugo Boss.
“Late night?” His right eyebrow lifted with his question as he took a seat next to her.
Did she look as bad as she felt?
“Sort of. Not feeling so hot today.”
“There is no room for feeling sick on this project, Carson.”
“I know, Dad.” As if he didn’t remind her every day since they broke ground.
In an uncharacteristic gesture, he smoothed the hair away from her face and stared deeply into her eyes.
“You remind me so much of your mother.” She took that as a compliment. Her mother had been a classic beauty.
For a split second, sadness darkened his eyes, but just like he always managed to do, he turned a compliment into a jab. “Although the years are not being kind to you.”
At least today he criticized her appearance rather than her work ethic or design abilities.
Carson rolled her shoulders back, pulling away from his touch. “What can I do for you, Dad? Why are you here?”
“Just wanted to see how things are wrapping up.”
She scoffed silently. “Right on schedule. One final inspection and we’re done.”
She had been the lead on this project from the beginning. Her concept. Her design. And it was the best work she had ever done. It had to be. She was competing for the top designer spot in her own father’s firm and there were no such thing as special favors. Not even for his own daughter.
He leaned in, examining her plans for her next project. She was still in the concept design process—in her mind, the most important step.
“Have you thought about using columns in the entrance?”
Designing space was a creative and always-changing process. It was an architect’s job to question. To play that what if game even when it led you right back to your original idea. And she could play the game—with anyone but her father. When her father questioned, it was personal.
“Yes, I thought about that but I am leaning more toward a circular design. I don’t want to take away from the height of the ceiling.”
He nodded.
Carson played with the crayons on the table then folded her hands over her drawing. She liked to design her concepts in crayon. She found it brought her back to a time when drawing was fun and perked up her creative juices. “Do you want to tell me why you’re really here?”
He turned to face her. His eyebrows knit together in worry. “We have that meeting next week with Bower Industrial.”
Finally, the truth behind his visit. “I have that meeting next week with Bower.”
“Are you prepared? We can’t let this contract slip through our fingers. I can only do so much when I’m not the lead designer.”
