The Design(11)

I sat up an inch higher in my chair and narrowed my eyes. “Are you finished, or did you even want to hear my justification?”

The dimple was back and I fidgeted in my seat to keep from staring at it.

“Go ahead,” he answered, genuinely curious. “As long as it has nothing to do with it being a symbol of love.”

I adjusted my pad folio on my lap and smiled. I loved telling the story. I’d researched the Eiffel Tower endlessly, completely enamored by its rich history.

“During its construction, the Eiffel Tower was considered a colossal waste of money, resources, and space. Most of the French creatives at the time—artists, writers, painters—they all protested its creation. They saw it as a disgusting eyesore of bolted sheet metal.”

Grayson nodded, undoubtedly familiar with this part of the story.

“It was never intended to stay past the 1889 Centennial celebrations. It was meant to be demolished shortly after, but when people had a chance to visit it once it was completed, they were taken aback by its immense beauty. Right away, they knew M. Eiffel had created one of the world’s greatest structures, and today, it’s the world’s most visited monument—I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

His brows rose in interest.

“It’s my favorite monument because it serves as a reminder that sometimes it’s the architect’s job to see things before others can. We’re meant to be the visionaries for the communities around us.”

Grayson stayed quiet, contemplating my answer for a minute or two before he nodded and leaned forward in his chair.

“You should get this job, Cameron.” He stared down at his hands on his desk as he spoke. “You’re talented and driven. The only reason I wouldn’t give you the position is because it would be a conflict of interest.”

I frowned. “A conflict of interest?”

He sighed and adjusted his already perfect tie. It was almost as if he were nervous. Almost. “Despite my best efforts to rid myself of it, I’ve always felt an attraction to you, Cameron. I’ve ignored that desire mainly because you’re too young for me. Now, it’s more inappropriate than ever.”

My mouth hung open. He couldn’t have possibly said those words. My brain must have been processing his speech wrong. Right? RIGHT?!

“Excuse me. I’m sorry. What?”

He shook his head. “I don’t intend on acting on those feelings.” He said the word like it was disgusting. “So there’s no point in discussing it. I don’t have relationships with employees and I won’t be having a relationship with you,” he said, leaning his elbows onto his desk and effectively cutting off any further discussion. “The job is yours if you want it.”

Only Grayson Cole could confidently admit his attraction to someone one moment and then completely move on to work.

I thought about asking him to clarify. How long had he felt an attraction for me? Was it in the past or present? Was he confusing me with someone else? It seemed unfathomable that a man like him had even noticed me. And for good reason: let’s not forget that he’d completely ignored me up until a few days ago for Christ’s sake.

“Cameron?” he asked, clearly irritated with my silence.

Regardless of my desire to press the subject of his feelings, I needed this job. Everything else could wait.

“So, you’re hiring me?” I asked.

He narrowed his brows as he considered my question. “It would seem so.”

“Yes. Okay,” I spoke, surprised by the confidence in my voice. “I accept.”

He nodded and stood up, clearly indicating that our ninety-second interview was over.

“You’ll start in Kelly’s old position.”

It took me a moment to comprehend his statement. Kelly had been the office’s receptionist. She wasn’t an architect. Hell, she probably didn’t even have a college degree. I mean, she stole a stapler… how stable could she be?

“Kelly’s position?” I asked, annoyed at how small I felt as he stood over me. I stood from my chair to even the playing field, but he was still a good deal taller than me, despite my high heels.

“There’s no better way to learn the company,” he countered. “You’ll get a feel for how we operate and how we treat our clients.”

I leaned forward over the desk so that he’d hear me loud and clear. “I have a master’s degree in architecture, Grayson. Hire a monkey to answer your damn phones.”

His brows arched in shock at my little outburst and his gaze held mine for three long seconds. Then finally, his hand reached to press the intercom button on his office phone. “Beatrice, hire a temp for Kelly’s position and have her here by this afternoon.”