Strangely, Carla understood. It was a universal desire. To feel safe and secure about her own future was at the top of her agenda. Her own career at Brighton and Young as a junior architect partner was finally paying off. In a year she could start her own practice. She just needed the funds to start her own firm. It was so close she could almost taste it. She could take her satchel, pens, trace paper roll, tape measure, and scale to a whole new level.
It was a far cry for Lindsay’s modeling world of rowdy after-parties peppered with exciting personalities like film producers, movie stars, musicians, disc jockeys, and other celebrities. But Carla would never exchange her own world for that.
“Good luck then, Carla said kissing Lindsay on the cheek.
“You promise to keep an eye on Falcon then,” Lindsay asked.
“Yeah, okay,” Carla answered, shooing her out the door.
Deep inside she knew it was a promise she had no intentions of keeping. She liked Falcon. She really liked him a lot. It was a secret she kept to herself.
She met him through Lindsay in one of the parties Lindsay dragged her to. Carla never felt comfortable in a noisy raucous atmosphere with disco lights flashing and music booming. It wasn’t her scene but it was a great way to meet future clients. There was always that actor whose movie made millions and was on the lookout for a second house, or the wealthy producer whose mistress wanted one.
Unfortunately, beautiful women plus rich male celebrities equaled a pairing frenzy that was surreal. She was talking earnestly to a music producer when his eyes faltered and followed a passing model. Carla knew the opportunity was lost.
Carla looked around in search of Lindsay. She saw her near the bar clinging to the arm of a guy she introduced earlier. Falcon, Carla remembered. He was very good-looking and appeared to be in his element, waving to friends and making small talk. There was a magnetic appeal in the way he held his glass and how he lowered his face to catch what Lindsay was saying. Carla couldn’t take her eyes off him. She wished it was her clinging to his elbow instead of her friend. She moved away scared that he would think she was some kind of stalker.
After a fourth glass of champagne she felt a migraine coming. She slipped through a door hoping it would led to some kind of exit. Instead, she found herself in a balcony overlooking the city. She inhaled deeply hoping the fresh air would stave off the looming headache.
“You’re Lindsay’s friend, right?”
Carla was startled. She didn’t know anyone else was in there.
“My name is…”
“Falcon,” Carla cut in, immediately wishing she didn’t. There was something slightly pathetic about remembering someone’s name when he probably didn’t remember hers. “Yes, Lindsay introduced us earlier. My name is…”
“…Carla. Carla Hornsby, right?” Falcon asked.
Carla was elated and nodded.
“So, Carla Hornsby, what are you doing out here alone?” Shouldn’t you be in there interacting and telling people how good you are at your job?”
How did he know? Was he watching her? The idea felt…good. Not freaky at all.
“It gets stale after a while,” she admitted.
Falcon laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
He looked at the spread below. Carla felt comfortable in his presence. Instinctively she felt he didn’t belong to that breed of men who needed to impress with their achievement. There was a quiet confidence about him that enhanced the fine lines around his eyes. Carla pegged him to be no more than in his late thirties. She wondered what he did for a living.
“I assume you’re not here to sell yourself,” Carla asked jokingly.
“No, I’m not. I think the company is doing well by itself. I’m here to show my support as sponsor to the New York fashion week.”
“And what company is that?” Carla asked.
“Live Glow.” He replied.
Carla gasped. The cosmetic company was one of the biggest in the world. But it wasn’t just cosmetics. The company had branched out into watches, jewelry, perfume, and herbal products. They retailed worldwide.
Something clicked in Carla’s brain. Falcon Manchester as in Manchester Global Enterprises. The guy had megabucks to go with the fabulous name. No wonder Lindsay was clinging to him. The image was a damper.
“How about you, what do you do?” Falcon asked.
“I’m an architect. I design houses. It’s all boring stuff really, compared to what others do,” Carla replied, thinking of Lindsay.
“I always loved creating things from nothing. Tell me all about it,” Falcon replied.
