This is childish. Call me back. Derek means nothing. We're just talking. You're overreacting.
The last one sent 2 hours ago. Where are you? I called the house. You're not answering. This isn't funny.
He silenced the phone and pocketed it. Let her wonder. Let her feel a fraction of the uncertainty she'd inflicted on him. The next four days blurred together in the best possible way. He worked 18-hour days, fueled by coffee, creativity, and the intoxicating freedom of a life no longer weighed down by someone else's indifference.
The team Victor had assembled was brilliant. Young architects hungry to prove themselves. Engineers who understood that sustainable didn't mean compromising on aesthetics, designers who spoke his language. On the third night, working late in the firm's glass-walled conference room overlooking the glittering city, Victor joined him. You should rest.
The presentation is tomorrow. I'm too wired to sleep, James admitted, making final adjustments to the 3D rendering. This feels I don't know how to explain it. Like you're finally doing what you were meant to do. Victor suggested, not fighting for scraps of someone else's attention while your talent collects dust.
James looked at him sharply. Did I mention you didn't have to? I've known you 18 months, James. I've watched you dim your own light to avoid casting shadows on someone else. That woman in your life, wife, I assume from the ring you're still wearing, she didn't see what I see.
What everyone in this industry sees. James looked down at his left hand at the platinum band he'd worn for seven years. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled it off and set it on the table. Not anymore. Victor nodded approvingly.
Good. Now, about tomorrow. The clients are traditional but forward-thinking. They'll ask tough questions. They'll want to know you're committed, that you're not just passing through.
I'm not. I'm here fully. The presentation was scheduled for 10:00 a. M. In the firm's main conference room.
James arrived at 7, triple-checking every detail, every rendering, every sustainability metric. His phone had finally stopped buzzing around midnight. She was either asleep or had finally gotten the message. The clients arrived promptly. Three members of the Meridian Development Corporation, led by a sharp-eyed woman named Mrs. Leang who'd built her fortune in real estate and wasn't known for suffering fools.
"Mr. Patterson, " she said, her handshake firm and assessing. "Victor speaks highly of you. Show me why. " For the next 90 minutes, James did exactly that. He walked them through his vision.