Chapter 8
The flashbulbs went off a few times.
"Mr. Maynard, young and talented," Hector said, clapping me on the shoulder. "I've seen plenty of Maynard Studio's work and have been wanting to meet you in person for ages."
"You're too kind, Mr. Howell," I replied.
"Let's work together more in the future."
After the small talk, the staff gathered us for a group photo.
I was placed right in the center.
Stella stood to my left, with someone standing between us.
Just as the photographer raised his camera, she glanced sideways at me.
Her expression was a mix of emotions.
It wasn't hatred.
It wasn't regret.
It was more like she was meeting me for the very first time.
After the photo session, it was time for the coffee break.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a cup of coffee in hand.
Amari walked up to me. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," I replied.
"You know, right before the contract was signed, during the last round of internal talks, Stella voted against you."
I didn't say a word.
"But Mr. Moody and Mr. Howell both voted yes. Two to one, so she got outvoted." Amari took a sip of her wine.
"She claimed Maynard Studio was too green for a project this size. But everyone saw the proposal; the talent was right there for everyone to see, and nobody bought her excuses," she said.
"Yeah."
"She really didn't want you to win."
She looked at me. "But there was nothing she could do about it."
I took a sip of my coffee. "Ms. Morris."
"Hm?"
"Why'd you help me out?"
She smiled. "Honestly? I can't stand her."
She swirled her wine glass and continued, "Back in college, the three of us were roommates. I know her inside out.
"She's got this insane need to control everything. If anyone around her is even a bit more talented, she'll find a way to keep them in check.
"She was like that with our roommates back then, and later, she did the same to you."
She glanced over at Stella, who was chatting with Hector across the room.
"It's not that she didn't love you, Arturo," Amari said. "She couldn't stand the idea of you being better than her."
I was quiet for a moment. "I know."
"That's why you never told her about Maynard Studio."
"Yeah."
"So what now? The secret's out."
"No need to hide it anymore."
I set my coffee cup down. "The moment I signed the divorce papers, I didn't have to keep up the act anymore."
Amari raised her wine glass and tapped it gently against my coffee cup.
"To freedom," she said.
As the coffee break wrapped up, I was about to head out.
Just as I reached the elevator, my phone buzzed.
It was a message from Stella. [Are you free tonight? I want to see Jessica.]
I stared at the screen for a few seconds.
Just as I was about to type a reply, another message popped up.
It wasn't from Stella.
It was from an unknown number. [Hello, Mr. Maynard. This is Melany Finch, a reporter from The Architecture magazine.
[We recently found out that you're the founder behind Maynard Studio, and we'd love to do an exclusive feature on you, something like "The Genius Designer's Comeback After Seven Years Away." Would you be open to an interview?]
Before I could even process it, a third message popped up.
It was from Johann. [Shit, something's up. Someone leaked your identity to the media.
[People are already sharing it on social media. "The stay-at-home husband of a 1.3 million dollars-a-year female executive is actually the Coastal Region Silver Award winner."]
Then came a fourth message, still from Johann. [The whole industry's blowing up right now. Your phone's about to get flooded with calls.]
I gripped my phone, standing by the elevator.
I heard footsteps behind me.
I turned around.
Stella was standing about 10 feet away.
She was holding her phone, its screen glowing.
The same post was on her screen.
She stared at me, her face dark with anger. "Arturo."
She spat out each word, slow and deliberate. "Did you do this on purpose?"