Chapter 6
"Dad, you look so cool in a suit," Jessica said.
I smiled and said, "Come on, let's go get some ice cream."
It was Friday.
The elevator doors on the 37th floor of Everstone Properties headquarters slid open, and I stepped out, laptop in hand.
The receptionist glanced up at me.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Arturo Maynard from Maynard Studio. I'm here for the second round of proposals," I said.
She glanced down at the list.
"Alright, Mr. Maynard. The conference room is at the end of the hall, second door on the left."
I nodded.
The hallway was long, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the whole city skyline.
When I pushed open the conference room door, there were already people inside.
Three people from the client team.
Amari was sitting on the left. She spotted me, raised an eyebrow, and gave me a slight smile.
In the middle was a middle-aged man, his name tag reading "Deputy General Manager, Ayaan Moody."
And on the right was Stella.
She was absorbed in her phone, but looked up as the door opened.
Our eyes locked.
That expression on her face, I would never forget it for as long as I lived.
First, she was stunned, like time stopped for her.
Then she looked disbelieved. Her brows knitted, her lips parted slightly.
And finally, her face twisted into a mess of emotions I couldn't even describe.
There was confusion, irritation, and a hint of something I couldn't place.
"Arturo—" she started.
But she didn't finish because Ayaan had already stood up.
"You're Mr. Maynard, the lead designer from Maynard Studio?" he asked.
I looked away and shook his hand. "Arturo Maynard."
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you. We've been following Maynard Studio's work for the past couple of years, and we're really looking forward to your proposal today."
He warmly invited me to take a seat.
Stella sat there, frozen.
Amari kept her head down, her shoulders were trembling.
She was trying not to laugh.
I opened my laptop and connected it to the projector.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Arturo Maynard, the lead designer at Maynard Studio. Today, I'll be presenting our in-depth proposal for the Westside Arts District," I said.
I kept my tone even.
Stella's eyes were locked onto me, searching my face for answers.
But I avoided her gaze.
The first slide was the project overview.
The second slide was the design concept.
Starting from the third slide, I walked them through the full proposal, covering everything from urban analysis and site interpretation to functional positioning, spatial storytelling, the master plan layout, and how each building took shape.
Every time I flipped to the next slide, the conference room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Ayaan was leaning in closer and closer.
Amari was scribbling furiously in her notebook.
Stella didn't move a muscle.
Fifteen minutes into the presentation, I flipped to the core design slide.
I explained, "The whole project is built around the idea of 'floating courtyards.' The buildings are arranged along the river's flow, with no fences or walls. The boundaries are set by water features and landscaping.
"Each courtyard is half-sunken into the hillside, with green roofs that blend right into the scenery, so from afar, it looks like the buildings are part of the mountain itself.
"The commercial spaces use floating box-like structures, raised above the slope. The ground floor is totally open, so you get an unobstructed view straight to the river."
I pulled up a rendering.
The buildings sat in the morning mist, their rooftops covered in greenery that melted right into the mountain backdrop. Down below, the river reflected those floating commercial boxes, making the whole scene look almost unreal.
Ayaan brought his hand down on the table with a sharp smack.
"Good," he said.
He turned to look at Stella. "Ms. Lancaster, what do you think?"
Everyone turned to look at her.
Stella finally moved.
She reached for her glass, took a sip, and set it back down.
"Mr. Maynard," she said.
She called me "Mr. Maynard."
"This proposal—"
She paused for a second.
"How long did you work on this?" she asked.
I looked at her.
"Seven years," I said.
The conference room went quiet again.
Amari's pen froze in her hand.
Ayaan, not getting it, chuckled to break the tension.
"Seven years for one project; now that's something," he said.
Stella didn't smile.
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then she looked down. "The proposal is fine."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Maynard Studio it is," she said.
*****
After the meeting, I was in the hallway, waiting for the elevator.
Behind me, I heard the sharp click of high heels, fast and urgent.
"Arturo," Stella called out.
I didn't turn around.
"Stop right there," she said.
The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside.
Stella reached in, stopping the doors from closing.
"Arturo, you better tell me what's going on," she demanded.
I pressed the button for the basement.
"Explain what?" I asked.
She stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid shut.
It was just the two of us.
In the enclosed space, her perfume was overwhelming.
I used to be fine with it. Now, it felt harsh and sharp in my nose.
"Maynard Studio," Stella said.
She fixed her gaze on me, eyes sharp. "When did you start it?
"That has nothing to do with you," I replied.
"What do you mean, it has nothing to do with me?"
She stepped closer.