Forgotten Awakenings (Awakenings #2) (27 page)

A smile spread on her face when she walked in and found Derek perched on the stool in front of his drawing table, a set of plans in front of him as he explained his designs. She’d be lying if she said the site of him talking about his work didn’t excite her. He was damn sexy.

As if he knew she was thinking about him, Derek shifted his eyes to the doorway, his lips curving into a delicious smile. Elle bit the inside of her lip to keep from moaning; the man had her aching with need.

“Guess it’s about time to get started,” he said, a hint of laughter filling each word.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Elle said, clearing her throat before looking at the six men and women gathered around her husband. “If you don’t mind, we need a few minutes and then we’ll bring you each in individually.”

Though Elle could tell they were annoyed with having to wait even longer, each of them filed out of the office without a word. This was not the first impression she had hoped for when she set up the interviews.

Closing the door, Elle turned back to Derek. “We got them.”

His eyes widened, as did his smiled. “The Brothers agreed to sell?”

Elle nodded.

“Oh, my God!” Derek crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms, his lips finding hers. “That’s awesome. So proud of you, beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

Samuel cleared his throat. “Not to be an asshole, but do I need to leave? I could put a sock on the door on the way out.”

Elle laughed as she looked at him. “You’re a dork, Samuel. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. Who are we beginning with?”

Surprised by his blunt behavior, Elle pulled herself out of Derek’s arms and walked over to her desk, opening the file on top. “Thought we’d start with Jude Walker. Graduate from Brown University.”

Samuel and Derek agreed and settled around the large, circular table toward the back of the office. They rarely used it, opting to use the conference room when meeting with clients. Elle stepped into the hallway and called for Jude.

He turned out to be a tall, lanky man with shaggy blond hair that needed a good washing. His black suit looked expensive, but it was wrinkled and needed a good cleaning.

“Have a seat,” Elle said as she gestured toward the back table and closed the door. She hobbled passed him and settled in the chair between Samuel and Derek. “I’d like to apologize for the wait. We’re normally quite efficient.”

“It’s fine,” Jude replied, leaning back in his chair. There was a cockiness to him that bothered Elle. “Nice place you have here.”

“Thank you,” Samuel said, curtly.

“Well.” Elle flipped open the file she had created for Jude. “I see you graduated from Brown. What brought you to San Francisco?”

Jude smiled. “Got tired of winter, I guess.”

She nodded. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“Um,” he paused. “Not sure what you want to know.”

“Why led you to study Architecture?” she asked.

“The money is good,” he laughed, but when none of them joined in, he added, “Kidding, of course. I, um, I’ve always enjoyed building things. It just kind of made sense.”

“Hmm,” Elle hummed before looking back down at his folders. “You used to work for McMillian and Sons. Why’d you leave?”

“I didn’t feel my career was going anywhere,” he said.

“And where do you see your career going?” Samuel asked.

“To the top. I want it all. To be the best of the best.”

“Did you bring your portfolio?” Elle asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

Jude tossed a small leather binder on to the table, pushing it toward her. She shifted her eyes to Samuel as she stood up to grab it. Flipping the book open, she had to force the groan back down her throat. His sketches looked like a toddler drew them. His lines were messy, his angles wrong, and it was clear he had no sense of diminutions.

“Can I be honest with you, Jude?” Elle asked, closing the book and sliding it across the table to him.

“Of course,” he insisted.

“You designs are flawed.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she held her hand up. “I don’t mean any disrespect. I’m sure you have a clear vision of what you want trapped inside your head, but you’re not very good at getting them down on paper.”

“Well, these are just first drafts,” he mumbled.

“I see.” She stood up and stretched her hand across the table. “It was nice to meet you, Jude.”

“That’s it?” he asked, standing up but making zero effort to take her hand. “You’re just sending me on my way?”

“I’ll review your file and let you know by the end of the week.”

“Yeah, right, whatever,” he groused, snatching his notebook off the table and storming out of the office.

Elle closed her eyes for a moment before looking down at Samuel. “Are they always like that?”

“No,” he laughed. “Some are worse.”

Samuel turned out to be right. As they weeded through rest of the applicants, Elle found herself struggling to keep her frustrations from showing. Some, like Jude, were cocky and arrogant, too self-assured for their own good, while others were unprepared. Such as Nikki Barrett, who forgot her portfolio, couldn’t remember anything about zoning laws, and smacked chewing gum the entire time.

But as bad as she was, nobody compared to their second to last applicant. Tony Putvin’s portfolio turned out to be a handful of napkins with crayon drawn houses. When asked about them, he smirked and said he didn’t need to explain himself, that his work spoke for itself. Elle could barely get the “thank you” out as she sent him on his way.

Her head throbbed as she once more walked over to the door and stepped into the hallway call in the only applicant left.

“Nathaniel Li?” Elle asked, causing him to smile as he pulled his legs back and stood up.

“It’s Nate. Only my
Nǎ
inai gets to call me by my full name.”

“Your
Nǎ
inai?” Elle asked.

“Oh, sorry, I meant my grandmother. In China, we call them
Nǎ
inai.”

“I like that,” she mused. “Nate it is, then. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he said, picking up a large, leather binder. “Lead the way.”

Elle smiled as she turned and walked back into the office and over to the table. Nate settled in the same chair the previous five applicants had sat. Unlike the others, he wasn’t wearing a tie and the top button on his electric-blue dress shirt were left undone. Of Chinese decent, he had silky, jet-black hair that was cut so that the back and sides were short, but the top was spiky. His skin was a creamy-tan and he had a welcoming, friendly smile.

“So, Nate, this the founder of Davis Architecture, Samuel Davis, and my partner, Derek Davis. Our other partner is on maternity leave.”

“You’re referring to your wife?” Nate asked, his eyebrow lifting.

“Yes,” Elle said. “How’d you know?”

Nate’s grin grew. “I did my research, Mrs. Davis.”

“I see.” Elle placed her hand on top of his file. “And exactly what did you learn about me?”

“Enough to know that you’re an amazing architect,” he replied. “I was lucky enough to get the chance to tour one of the houses in Alvarez Park.” He whistled under his breath. “It was nice. Great layout, amazing use of space.”

“Thank you,” Elle said, opening his file. “You graduated from the University of Texas in Austin. Is that where you’re from?”

“No, I’m from Oklahoma,” he explained. “But I received a baseball scholarship, so off to Texas I went. Ended up blowing out my shoulder my sophomore year, ending my career, so I thought what the hell, I’ll study architecture.”

“Yet, it says here that you haven’t worked in three years. What have you been doing?” Samuel asked.

Nate sighed. “I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but I left Texas to pursue a career as an artist, but I got a little tired of starving. Thought I’d give this real job thing a try.”

“You’re an artist?” Elle asked.

He nodded. “Oils mostly. Though, I’ve dabbled in charcoal a bit. Never really liked it. Too messy.”

“Would I have seen your work anywhere?”

“Ever been to Chasm’s Bar over on fifty-eighth and Everest?”

“No,” she said.

“Then, no,” he replied. “My partner was supportive enough to hang a couple of my pieces in his bar, but nobody else seems to want my work. C’est la vie, you know?”

“I do,” Elle laughed. “Did you bring your portfolio?”

“Of course.” Nate stood up as he placed his leather binder on the table and unzipped it. He pulled out half a dozen designs and spread them out on the table. “They’re not fabulous, I’m afraid, but I like to think of them as works in progress.”

Elle stood up and leaned against the table so she could get a better look at his drafts. They were beyond exceptional. Clean lines, sharp angles, and the practicality that so many forget. Too many architects try to defy reality, when most people are looking for comfort and ease in their homes. They want someplace to grow old, to raise a family.

“Tell me, Nate,” Elle said, her voice wavering. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

“Ten years? I don’t know. I’d like to think I’ll have made a name for myself. Maybe not taking the world by storm, but at least make a difference to someone. Get married, have a kid. Just be happy.”

Elle smiled and looked over at Derek. “You have any questions?”

“Nope,” he chirped.

Elle turned to Samuel.

“I don’t either,” he said before she could ask.

Elle laughed under her breath and faced Nate again. “Do you have any questions?”

“Well, I am assuming health benefits come with this job?”

“Of course,” she said. “We offer several packages for you to choose, along with a retirement plan, life insurance, stock options.”

“Good, good,” he murmured. “And, um, not to be pushy, but starting salary?”

“Fifty thousand a year,” Samuel pipped in.

Nate nodded and pressed his lips together. “Can’t think of any other questions, but I would like to say thank you for this chance. I don’t have the experience some of the other people you’re considering have, but —”

“Stop,” Elle interrupted, putting her hand up as she looked at Samuel, who gave her a subtle nod. She took a deep breath and turned her attention back to Nate. “I like you. You’re smart, witty, and quick on your feet. Yes, you don’t have the experience that others may have, but what you do have is charisma.”

“But,” he said. “There is a but in there, right?”

“Kind of.” She paused. “My wife and I started Reid Williams Designs because we wanted a chance to make a difference. When Samuel bought our company and merged it into his, he gave us the opportunity to pick and choose what projects we wanted. It’s a luxury that most architects can only dream of.”

“I’m sorry, but what’s your point?” Nate asked.

“You know about my relationship with my wife and husbands, right? You’ve done your research about me, so you must know what happened to me last year.”

Nate’s eyes flickered to Derek before he nodded. “I’ve heard the rumors, read the papers.”

“Figured as much. If I hire you, I need you to understand that I’m not the woman they’re describing me to be. Trixie Maxwell is . . . Well, she’s crazy. She lost her grip on reality and, for some reason, put all her hate and blame on me. And because of that, she’ll now be spending the next ten years of her life in prison.”

Elle clamped her mouth shut, thinking about the plea deal Trixie had taken just two weeks before. Ten years in a prison hospital, so she could get the mental help she needed. Help? Elle knew she was insane, but the deal felt too light. Trixie had tried to kill her, tried to end her life, and why? Because Derek and Callum wanted her.

“I’m sorry,” Nate said, pulling her attention back to him. “Are you asking if your relationship with your husbands and wife is going to be an issue?”

“Yes,” Elle admitted. “I like you, Nate, and I think you could be a good addition to our division, but I need to know you’re not going be uncomfortable working around us. If so, I will find a place for you inside the company, because you’re too valuable to let go.”

Nate’s lips slowly curved upward into a smile. “Mrs. Davis, I’m gay. My boyfriend, the guy who owns Chasm’s Bar, and I have been together for five years. As long as you’re not getting naked in front of me, we’re not going to have a problem.”

“Well, I can’t promise anything,” Elle snickered, tilting her head toward Derek. “You haven’t gotten to know him yet.”

“Like I’m the one you need to worry about,” he scoffed. “Sadie’s the hellcat.”

“Yes, she is,” Elle murmured, before turning her attention back to Nate. “Unless you object, I’d say the job is yours.”

“Great!” he exclaimed, standing up. “When do I start?”

“Bright and early tomorrow morning,” Samuel said. “Elle and I will meet you by the elevators at eight, and we can get all take care of the paperwork.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He slid his designs into his binder. “Thanks again for this opportunity. I’m looking forward to working with you.”