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“Well, then you better get to the conference room before you make Melody go crazy with nerves.”
I grin evilly. “Would that be so bad?” I ask, my tone thick with sugar.
Carrie giggles as we both stand up. “Yes, because you and I would bear the brunt of her wrath, and she did threaten your job,” she reminds me with a smirk. “Do you need any help?”
“I think I’ve got it, but thanks. Oh wait, maybe you could bring in the water pitcher from the fridge in about ten minutes?”
“You got it,” Carrie says as she heads back to her own cubicle. I adjust my pencil skirt and blouse and dab on some fresh lipstick before I head to the conference room, just in case the client walks in early. I also grab a handful of colorful pens from a drawer, in case the intern forgot to lay some out for Melody. Satisfied that I have everything I need, I head to the conference room.
The Concord Design conference room is one of my favorites in our building. Situated on the sixteenth floor, the window-filled space offers a stunning panoramic view of downtown Chicago. The exposed brick walls are incredibly chic, and the furniture is understated but classic.
I take stock of the intern’s work, pleased to see that she even remembered to set out the multi-colored pens for Melody. I walk to the glass-topped serving table and carefully examine the mugs and plates for any grime or damage. I remove the covers from the platters of dainty pastries and start up the espresso machine. The heady aroma of coffee and the smell of the sweets make my stomach growl, reminding me that I forgot to eat lunch today.
Ignoring my sudden hunger, I turn my attention to the conference room table. Notepads, sketches, and portfolios have all been placed within easy reach of Melody’s go-to chair. There is also a notebook and design portfolio at the place where the guest from Dissidence will sit. The intern has thoughtfully laid out several budget reports across the table, but I know that Melody will be upset at how untidy it looks.
I’m straightening the stack of papers when the sound of the conference room door opening startles me. Carrie walks in with a pitcher of icy-fresh lemon water.
“I brought the water,” she says brightly.
“Thanks so much!” I tell her as I place the jug on a doily. “Melody hates whenever it sweats too much, so I try to wait until the last minute.” I step back to admire the room and give it one last glance-over.
“You don’t have to tell me twice, I totally get it. The room looks great,” Carrie says as she takes in the space. “I wish Melody trusted you more instead of assuming the worst.”
“That’ll be the day,” I muse back. “I can appreciate being fastidious. I’d just be nicer about it.”
“Oh and by the way, heads up. The client is in the building and I think I figured out the real reason Melody is so anxious about this meeting, and it has nothing to do with the projects at stake.”
“What reason is that?” I ask Carrie skeptically, as if working for a billion dollar conglomerate wasn’t enough reason to be nervous.
“The CEO himself is here, and he’s like twenty-six years old and drop-dead gorgeous,” my best friend squeals delightedly.
I let out a hearty laugh at her excitement. “You’re absurd,” I chide. “But yes, that totally makes sense. Melody does seem to fall for every client, especially the hot ones.” I glance at my watch. “Okay, you better scram before she comes in here. She’ll think you’re just trying to get face time with her or something.”
“Yes, good point. But you’re good to go?”
“I am, and thanks for the help.” Carrie gives me a quick thumbs up as she darts out of the room.
I turn around to check the coffee maker. Less than a second later, the door opens again, with my back to it. I call out, “Carrie – I told you to go before Melody catches you hovering.”
But then there’s a low chuckle, and a deep voice.
“I’m sorry, but I think you’re looking for someone else.”
The voice makes my ears prick, and I turn around and am immediately dumbstruck because standing in front of me is none other than Carlton James. It’s been twelve years, but I’d know that face anywhere. But now, my childhood enemy is older, muscular, and the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
I feel like my jaw must have dropped all the way to the ground. I try to compose myself as I rack my brain about why he’s here.
Is Carlton the client? I ask myself in disbelief. When did he get so hot? Does he recognize me?
But before I have an opportunity to say anything, or even to process that our client is in fact my first crush, Melody strolls in behind him. The sound of her stilettos clacking against the wooden floorboards stirs me from my stupor.
