Chapter 5
Amari was Stella's best friend, a design director at Everstone Properties.
I'd crossed paths with her a few times, but we'd never had a private phone conversation before.
"What's up?" I asked.
"I'm representing the client for the Westside Arts District project proposal presentation next Monday," she said. "I reviewed Maynard Studio's credentials—"
"What are you getting at?"
"The contact person for Maynard Studio is Johann Bradford, but my industry friends say the real creative director is someone else."
I didn't respond.
"Arturo." She lowered her voice. "It's you, isn't it?"
I watched Jessica chasing butterflies in the distance.
"Ms. Morris."
"Yeah?"
"I'm just a stay-at-home dad."
I hung up.
She sent three messages in quick succession. [Drop the act.]
[I stayed at that hotel in Evergreen Ridge. I recognized your design style right away.]
[Relax, I won't tell Stella.]
She added a zipper-mouth emoji after the third message.
I didn't reply.
But deep down, I knew secrets never stay buried for long.
*****
On Monday, it was time for the project presentation. Johann represented me in person, while I joined remotely from the background.
There were seven people in the conference room.
On Johann's camera feed, I spotted Stella.
She was sitting at the head of the table, flipping through the proposal, her expression neutral.
Next to her was Amari, head down, scrolling through her phone.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Johann Bradford from Maynard Studio. Today, I'll be presenting our concept proposal for the Westside Arts District," Johann began.
As the PowerPoint reached the third slide, Stella looked up.
"Wait a second," she said, cutting him off. "Who came up with the courtyard layout idea?"
Johann paused.
"It was a team discussion," he replied.
"Doesn't seem like it."
Stella flipped back to the first page of the proposal and pointed at the master plan.
"The way the buildings are arranged along the river, and how the west side uses the hillside for a terraced layout," she said. "I saw something like this seven years ago."
The conference room fell silent for a couple of seconds.
Amari looked up and glanced at the camera.
She knew I was watching.
Johann cleared his throat.
"Ms. Lancaster, we can discuss the details later. Let's focus on the overall positioning first," he said.
"Alright. Go on," Stella said.
She set the proposal down and leaned back in her chair.
But her frown didn't ease.
After the presentation, Johann messaged me.
Johann: [She's getting suspicious.]
Me: [It's fine.]
Johann: [Are you sure you don't want to show up in person?]
Me: [No rush.]
Johann: [Maynard Studio can't keep this up for much longer. Sooner or later, you'll have to meet the client face-to-face.]
Me: [Let's wait until the second round.]
I shut my laptop.
Jessica came running out of her room, holding up a drawing.
"Dad, look. I drew our new home," she said.
On the paper was a wobbly two-story house, a big tree beside it, and an orange cat lounging on the roof.
"It looks great," I said.
"Can we get a cat?" she asked.
"Let's wait until I'm done with this project."
"You always say that."
She puffed out her cheeks and glared at me.
I crouched down and pinched her cheek.
"I mean it this time. One month."
"Pinky promise." she said.
"Pinky promise."
*****
A week later, Everstone Properties sent out invitations for the second round of proposals.
Three design firms made it to the next stage.
Maynard Studio was one of them.
The other two were an old local state-owned design institute, and an international firm from Eastport.
There was a new requirement in the invitation. [The lead designer needs to show up in person for the second round presentation.]
Johann forwarded the email to me with a note. [Can't hide anymore.]
I stared at the screen for a minute.
Then I fired off a quick reply. [I'll go.]
Johann replied instantly. [Want me to come with you?]
Me: [No, I'll go by myself.]
Ten seconds later, he sent another message. [Stella will be there at the presentation. Are you sure about this?]
Me: [I'm sure.]
I had been hiding for seven years.
I had been buying groceries, cooking, picking up Jessica, and being "Jessica's dad" in the parents' group chat.
In Stella's eyes, I was just her ex-husband, the useless guy who couldn't get his act together, totally out of touch, and mooching off her.
It was time to put an end to all that.
The presentation was set for next Friday, on the 37th-floor conference room at Everstone Properties HQ.
I spent five days refining the proposal.
On the sixth day, I took Jessica to the mall.
"Dad, why are you buying a suit?" she asked.
"I have a meeting to go to," I said.
"But you don't even have a job."
"Not before."
I straightened my collar in front of the fitting room mirror.
"Now I do," I added.
Jessica cocked her head, studying me.