Chapter 2
On Tuesday night, Sophie came home with a bottle of red wine.
"I heard you actually sent your resume to Simon?" Sophie asked.
"He asked me to," I replied.
"You know what he's like. He won't go easy on you because you're my friend."
"I'm not expecting any favors. I believe in my work."
Sophie grinned. "That's the Nina I know. That crybaby isn't the real you."
*****
On Wednesday afternoon, I got an interview invite from UrbanEdge Studio.
On Friday, 10 AM, I spent two days revamping my portfolio, attaching the design concepts and process docs for all six projects I completed solo in the past three years.
It was bound to happen sooner or later.
At 9:45 on Friday morning, I stood at the entrance of UrbanEdge Studio.
The 26-story office tower had a glass facade, and the logo gleamed in the sunlight.
The receptionist was friendly and showed me to the conference room on the third floor.
When I pushed the door open, I froze.
There was more than one interviewer, and Simon wasn't alone.
There was also a woman in her early thirties, with a crisp, short haircut, her gaze fixed on the projected portfolio.
"Nina Lane, right?" she said. "I'm Fiona Reed, Creative Director of Design Team Two. Your Cloudhaven Resort concept is solid, but there's a problem with the layout flow..."
For the next forty minutes, Fiona put me through the wringer, digging into every last detail.
She wanted to know the reasoning behind every design choice, why I picked each material, and how I managed the budget.
I answered everything she threw at me.
Fiona went from nitpicking to actually paying attention.
Simon didn't say a word the whole time, leaned back in his chair, watching me.
When the interview wrapped up, Fiona closed her laptop and gave Simon a nod. "Looks good."
Simon glanced at me. "Start next Monday. Three-month probation. HR will talk to you about salary."
No small talk, no extra words.
When I stepped out of the building, my palms were sweaty.
My phone buzzed. It was Sophie: [Did you get it?]
I texted back: [Yeah, I got it.]
Sophie blew up my phone with celebration emojis, then followed up: [My brother almost never interviews people himself. You set a new record for nepotism.]
I shot back: [He didn't say a single word the whole time. Where's the nepotism in that?]
Sophie: [Well, looks like you really do have the skills. Congrats, welcome to the working class.]
*****
Monday came, and my first day at UrbanEdge Studio went off without a hitch.
The vibe here was way better than my old job. Everyone was straightforward with each other, just get their work done and head home. No office drama, no politics.
Fiona handed me a commercial complex concept to work on right away during my first week.
"Don't stress. come up with three different concepts, and we'll talk them over before making a decision," she said.
I put my head down for five days and turned in four versions.
Fiona grinned when she saw them. "Didn't ask you for a fourth one, you know."
"The first three had their issues, so I put together a hybrid version," I explained.
She pulled up the fourth version and studied it for ten minutes. "This one is the best. You've only been here a week, and you're already setting the direction?"
"It's not about setting the direction. I thought this one could solve the problems in the first three," I said.
Fiona didn't say anything else. She sent the fourth version to the project team chat.
After a few seconds, Simon replied: [We'll use the fourth version for the presentation on Wednesday.]
Fiona turned to me. "Well, you've got guts, and luck is on your side."
At the Wednesday presentation, I gave my first official pitch at UrbanEdge Studio.
There were seven people in the conference room, with Simon sitting at the far end.
I spoke for twenty minutes.
When I finished, no one said a word.
Simon flipped through the printout and pointed to a section. "How are you keeping the budget under control here?"
"I took out the stone cladding on the facade and swapped it for a paint finish in the same color range. The visual difference is under five percent, and it saves us 400 thousand dollars," I replied.
"You think the client will buy it?" Simon asked.
"I've got comparison visuals on page seventeen," I said.
He turned to page seventeen, checked it for a few seconds, then closed the file. "Approved."
After the meeting, Fiona stopped me. "That budget workaround. Did you already have it planned out?"
"I factored it in from the start. I figured Mr. Shaw would ask about the budget, so I made sure to have it ready," I said.
Fiona patted my shoulder. She didn't say anything, but smiled.
Three weeks into my new job, something unexpected happened.
I was at my desk, tweaking some designs, when my phone buzzed with a social media notification.
It was from a former colleague.
There was a photo of an award certificate.
"Congrats to our Creative Director, Vera, for winning this year's Emerging Commercial Space Design Award with the Cloudhaven Resort project."
The comments were all praise: [Vera's amazing], [Well deserved], [Your company nailed this project].
I stared at that photo for a full minute.