Something had to give.
I just didn’t know what it would be.
20
PRIME
Farah had been blowing up my phone for two weeks straight, insisting she needed to show me her design ideas for the penthouse. I’d been putting her off, but she was persistent as hell. Finally, I agreed to meet her at Addis, this Ethiopian coffee shop in Adams Morgan that she claimed had the best pour-over in the city.
I pulled up fifteen minutes late, hoping she’d get the message that this was business only.
She was already there, sitting at a corner table with her laptop open and a portfolio spread out in front of her. When she saw me walk in, her whole face lit up.
“Prime!” She stood, arms already reaching for me.
I braced myself as she pulled me into a hug. Too close. Too long. Her perfume was overwhelming, floral and sweet, and she pressed herself against me like we were more than what we were.
I pulled back, putting distance between us. “What’s good, Farah.”
“You,” she said, smiling up at me. “It’s been too long.”
“Been busy.”
“I know. That’s why I’m so glad you finally made time for me.” She gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit, sit. I ordered you a coffee. Black, no sugar, right?”
I sat down, already regretting this. “Let’s see what you got.”
She opened her portfolio, sliding it across the table. “Okay, so I was thinking for your penthouse, we go with a modern minimalist aesthetic. Clean lines, natural colors—browns, camel, off-whites. But with touches of warmth, maybe some orange and yellow. Also some wood accents, leather furniture.”
I flipped through the pages. Sketches of furniture layouts, color swatches, fabric samples. She’d actually put thought into this.
“I love the idea of a custom bookshelf for your music collection,” she continued, pointing to one of the drawings. “And here—” she flipped to another page, “—a dedicated space for your guitars. Something that displays them but also keeps them protected.”
I had to admit, she knew what she was doing. The designs were clean, sophisticated. Exactly what I’d want in a space but hadn’t taken the time to figure out myself.
“This is good,” I said.
Her smile widened. “Really? You like it?”
“Yeah. It’s exactly what I was thinking but couldn’t articulate.”
“That’s what I do. I get inside people’s heads, figure out what they want even when they don’t know yet.”
There was an undertone to that statement I chose to ignore.
“You still working for that event planning company?” I asked, steering the conversation to safer ground.
“Yes! Actually, that’s the main thing. The interior decorating is just side work, you know? Building my portfolio. But the event planning is where I’m really making moves.” She leanedforward, excited. “We just landed this huge contract with the mayor’s office. Big gala fundraiser next month.”
My jaw tightened. Of course. “Vivica’s event?”
“Yeah! It’s going to be amazing. Like, five hundred guests, live band, silent auction, the whole thing.” She grinned. “You’ll probably be there, right? Since that’s your mother and all.”
“I doubt it.”
“Oh come on, Prime. Please? I want you to see me in action. See what I can do when I’m running a major event.” She reached across the table, her hand covering mine. “It would mean a lot to me.”
I pulled my hand back. “We’ll see.”
