Page 14 of How Dare You
These plans are a mess. Half the dimensions are missing, and the elevations show open shelving on the upper cabinets that contradict the rest of the plans. I check the logo in the bottom left corner. Trina Boatswain Design. Explains why Devon left me on read. This project would have been perfect for her. Ground up remodel with custom elements everywhere and original mid-century details. She loves that shit. It should be hers. Whoever this Trina person is must be amazing at something in order to win a project like this, but coherent cabinet design definitely isn’t it.
I’ve been wondering for weeks what Devon meant when she said she had a rival. None of the other designers I’ve worked with in town fit the bill. They wouldn’t be competition she’s concerned with. Could it be Trina?
“Have you looked at these?” I ask Alex, setting the papers down on a nearby saw-horse.
He scoffs, “Trina’s plans are a nightmare since Devon quit doing them.”
“Devon was doing her plans?”
He twists his face in confusion. “I always forget you’re new here. She worked for Trina for years before starting Tuesday Morning or whatever she calls it.” I don’t bother correcting him. “Trina hasn’t found anyone half as good to take over since she left.”
“That’s because no one’s as good as Devon,” I laugh.
He joins my laughter, adding, “At least the new girls at Trina’s aren’t bitches.” A conspiratorial smile creeps across his face.
My smile drops, and I step closer to him, squaring my shoulders. “Don’t call her that in front of me again.”
“Alright, big guy.” He reaches up to pat my shoulder patronizingly but pulls back when he catches the look on my face. When he continues, his tone remains dismissive. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” He points to the cabinet plans. “But if you want to get started on the cabinets, you’re going to have to get ahold of someone at Trina’s. She’ll lose her shit if it’s wrong, so don’t make any assumptions.”
“Alright, big guy,” I give him the patronizing shoulder pat he meant to give me, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Chapter 5
Devon
*Housewarming gift for Allie (and Luke)
*Make space in the guest room for Sadie.
*Send Sadie details for local hairdresser, doctors, etc.
- From Devon’s to-do list, August 5th
“Hello, sweetie,” Mom’s voice comes through the speakers in my car. “I have fifteen minutes.”
“I have ten,” I say, clicking my seatbelt into place. In fifteen minutes, I’m meeting with a woman named Nathalie, who runs a local lifestyle blog called Live Your Best Life in Palm Springs. I’ve been trying to get as much press for Friday West as possible, and she’s working on a piece about local women entrepreneurs. It’s not exactly a publication of my design work, but she’s the most popular resource in town for things to do, local gossip, and best businesses to support. The interview is a boon.
Mom’s bright laughter is a refreshing balm in the midst of a stressful week. “Aren’t we quite the pair? Lucky we found any time at all.” I sent my mom a calendar request for this call a week ago. Between her running her architecture firm and me with Friday West, it’s the only way to make sure we connect. “I will go first. Landed the project in the Pearl District. Start on that in September.” Mom’s updates always start with her career, but she rarely shares anything personal, and then I get a headline about each of my little brothers. “Zachary is almost healed from his shoulder surgery. Should be pitching again next season. Noah broke up with his girlfriend.”
“Was that the girl who came home with him over spring break?”
“That was her. Shame. She was lovely, but she deserves better than Noah was capable of right now anyway.” Noah is only twenty years old. Not sure what she’s expecting him to offer.
“Caleb is taking him fishing this week as consolation, even though Noah is the one that called it off.” The only way Mom brings up my dad is in relation to my brothers. I’m unsure if it’s because she knows I don’t care to hear about him, or if she genuinely only interacts with him when it involves Zach or Noah. One time after a few glasses of wine on Thanksgiving, she described their marriage as efficient. It was the deepest thing she’d ever shared with me about their relationship.
“Tell me about my oldest,” she says, turning the subject to me. “How’s business?”
“I am prepping to pitch a couple more big projects,” I offer a diluted version of the truth, leaving out the loss of the Shephard project. The fact is, if I don’t win something major soon, like a restaurant or a massive new build, in about three months I will be in big financial trouble. “Bea and I have more than enough work to keep us busy.”
“How is it having your first employee?” Mom’s genuine interest pours through the speakers. “She still working out okay?”
“Bea is impressive. She’s better at space planning than I am.” Mom scoffs at that, but I move past it. “She has a natural eye for things, but she doesn’t rely solely on that. She’s worked hard to develop her skills. I think you would like her, honestly.”
“If you say so, then I do.” She moves the conversation forward, like she’s ticking things off an imaginary conversation checklist. “And how is Alice? Figure out that business with her building?” Mom insists on calling everyone by their full name.
She’s going to hate the answer. “The guy who bought the building ended up splitting the deed and selling her half back to her—”
“Why on earth would he do that?” she interrupts. “It’s a wonderful piece of property. Of course, I am happy for Alice, but it is not a sound business decision.” I decide not to tell her that Allie just opened a bar with Luke and is moving in with him in a few days, too.