I grunt a humorless laugh. “How’s that?”
“Well… do you really want to work for a man who treats the woman you love so poorly?”
I stare into the amber liquid in my glass, letting her words settle. I’ve known for some time I don’t want to work for John, even if I couldn’t acknowledge it. His offer of partnership made it crystal clear. Now I know what I want to do, but can I make that happen without Iris?
“No,” I say at last. “I want to start my own firm. I was planning to ask Iris, but…” I trail off, unable to make myself say the words. That I’m worried she’ll never speak to me again.
“As your assistant?” Sophie asks, and I shake my head.
“As a designer. As my partner. She’s so talented, Soph. You should see what she can do.”
Sophie’s eyes sparkle as she gazes at me. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
I snort bitterly. “What, drunk and miserable?”
“No.” She gives me an affectionate shove. “In love.” She tilts her head, studying me. “You haven’t ruined everything, Aid. You just realized what matters to you.”
Emotion jams in my throat, and I drain my whiskey, setting the empty glass down. “What if…” My voice breaks, and I try again. “What if she doesn’t…”
Sophie’s hand lands on my arm. “She will. She just needs time.”
God, I hope she’s right.
“In the meantime,” Sophie says, straightening, “you can get ready.”
“Ready?”
“Ready for Iris. Trust that she’s coming back to you, and think about what you want her to come back to.” With that, Soph turns to the Chinese food on the table. I watch her pop open the fried rice, systematically picking out the shrimp. Despite my mood, it makes me smile.
And for the first time since I walked away from Iris’s doorstep, I feel a tiny bud of hope. I can’t rush Iris. Can’t make her feel okay.
But I can do the one thing I should have done a long time ago.
The office isquiet when I arrive the next morning. I deliberately came early to clear my desk and be gone before the team arrives. My resignation email already waits in John’s inbox, and while part of me would prefer not to speak to him again, another part knows we aren’t done.
When John shoves my office door open, briefcase in hand, coat still on, I’m not surprised.
“What the hell is this, Brooks?” he barks, holding up his phone. “You’reresigning?”
“Yes,” I say simply, placing a framed blueprint into the box on my desk. I’ve got movers coming later to collect the larger items, like the two drafting tables and my desk, but I wanted to grab the essentials.
“Why?” John asks, and when I glance at him, he looks genuinely baffled. I almost laugh.
I’m more certain than ever that starting my own firm is the right thing to do. I don’t have an office space, don’t have clients, but I have a good portfolio. I have talent and dedication, two things John has repeatedly overlooked. He might try to destroy me, but I can’t let that hold me back. John’s held me back for years, and that’s before I think about all the ways he’s held Iris back. I’ve had enough. It’s time for me to forge my own path.
“The reasons I gave you yesterday,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “I’m done.”
His face contorts with rage, and he hurls his briefcase onto the Chesterfield. “The hell you are.”
I ignore him, reaching for my drafting tools.
“You’re resigning because of this ADHD bullshit?”
My fingers tighten on the T-square, and I turn back. “It’s not bullshit, John.” I think of yesterday and hesitate. I shouldn’t talk to him about Iris, not without her here, but if I don’t say this, no one will. “If you stopped and looked, you’d see it for yourself.”
“What?” John says, folding his arms. “What would I see?”
I stare at him, wondering if for one second he might be prepared to listen. If there might be a chance to get through to him. Glancing at my office door, I lower my voice, not letting myself make the same mistake I made yesterday.
