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“One of the little-understood things about having my kind of money is the insulation. It can be great—you’re insulated from tedious chores and time sucks, and I never have to talk to anybody who I specifically don’t want to talk to; other people talk to those people for me. But I’m also insulated from something like this. I literally can’t have this.”
“You could if you wanted.”
“Yeah, okay, technically I can, because it’s a free country, but I’d almost have to come as somebody else. Like a poser. Look at me. I could buy an airplane hangar and fill it with the best tools money can buy before dinner. I’d have to take a space from somebody who actually needs it.” He’s silent a bit. “This place is awesome. And I can never be one of the people who belong here.”
I’m stunned at how I misread him. He wasn’t feeling judgy; he was feeling jealous. Billionaire Henry Locke can’t have this. And he thinks it’s awesome.
I grin and turn to him, walking backwards. “I wanted you to like it. It’s one of my favorite places in the world.”
His eyes sparkle. “I like it a whole lot.”
Heat creeps over my neck, because I feel like he’s talking about me.
He catches up to me and takes my hand. My heart skips a beat.
“Do you have a lot of collaboration?” he asks. “Do people walk around and see what each other is doing?”
“Yeah, people hook up on projects, but it’s not as if we’re walking around all dude, please tell me about this awesome creation of yours! That would be a little dorky.”
“They hook up from the lounge,” he says.
“More often than not,” I say.
I see Latrisha’s head pop up, and I think, Yay! She widens her eyes at me. I suppress a smile. I warned her I was bringing Henry, but she still looks a little stunned.
We get to her space, and I see she’s cleaned it up. “Latrisha, this is Henry. Henry, this is Latrisha. She makes furniture out of reclaimed stuff and it’s freaking amazing.”
“Hey,” he says, taking her hand. “So nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Latrisha’s apron is full of pockets and her hair is wound in a braid on top of her head like a rope crown. She’s trying to disguise her grin, and it makes her look a bit mad. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I think I might be familiar with one of your recent pieces, actually,” Henry says, moving over to her workbench and picking up a remnant of the polished metal she used on Smuckers’s throne. He goes on to slide his hand over a partly finished stool on her workbench. “I love this burnished effect. How did you get it?”
She explains her burnishing technique, which I realize would be good with the reclaimed posts and wood. She ends up showing him pictures. They discuss finishes so extensively, it seems like a joke at one point.
I go to my locker and grab work clothes to put on behind the changing curtain.
When I get back, she widens her eyes. Yeah, that’s right; it’s Henry Locke, hot Henry Locke, here in our space recognizing the awesomeness of her furniture. It makes me feel ten feet tall.
He wants to hire her to do the furnishings and they talk about that. And I know he’s not hiring her to appease me. She really is one of the best, and Henry would see that.
Henry gets this world. It makes my heart swell.
We head out to the truck, the three of us, and pick through the wood chunks and start matching parts together. We haul a few things out onto the broken sidewalk. Latrisha’s thinking tables and a lobby desk. Henry has measurements on his iPad.
I get the idea of having Bron, one of our smithy pals, heat and reshape small bits of the rebar to make design elements. Latrisha is talking about an entire lobby desk of chopped and polished construction timbers, fit back together like a puzzle with mostly triangular pieces. It’s an awesome idea, and soon enough, Bron, another smithy friend, and Henry are unloading the truck.
People don’t recognize Henry right off, though I have no doubt word will spread once somebody figures it out.
But right now, to everyone but Latrisha, he’s one of us, full of energy and ideas.
Maybe his work clothes cost more than a month’s rent, but he makes up for it with his passion, not to mention his construction expertise. He and Latrisha and Bron and I take to the collaboration of making a grand lobby desk from the reclaimed materials like we’ve been working together forever.
A few people drift over and throw out suggestions. He draws the appreciative gaze of most every woman who comes by, but he just keeps rolling with the group, gazing over at me, all sparkly, when things are popping.
Henry is so full of contradictions. He’s a powerbroker into controlling everything, but he can do brainstorming and teamwork like a pro.
More smithy guys come over a few hours later and, not coincidentally, beers come out. The smithy guys clink bottles so hard, I think the glass might break. I wince and catch Henry’s eye and he’s just laughing, like he knows what I’m thinking.
