And that’s pretty freaking cool.
Dad catches Aidan and me as we arrive at the top of the stairs, his gaze moving between our smiling faces.
“Lancaster happy?”
“Thrilled,” Aidan says.
“Great work, Brooks.” Dad gives a nod of approval. “I knew you could handle it.”
A flicker of disappointment passes through me, seeing Dad congratulate Aidan on my designs, but I brush it off. It’s better if he doesn’t know.
I turn toward my desk, but Aidan’s hand lands on my arm. When I glance back, he motions toward my father, who’s already heading back to his office.
“Tell him.”
I hesitate. The plan was to tell Dad after David approved the designs, but the thought of saying it makes my gut churn. Maybe I should wait until after the work is completed, when he can see it with his own eyes. When he can’t stop it from going ahead.
But before I can stew on it any further, Aidan’s hand nudges my lower back, steering me toward Dad’s office.
“We’ll tell him together,” he says softly. “You deserve the credit for this, Iris. Not me.” Aidan knocks on the doorframe of Dad’s open office door. “John, got a minute?”
Dad glances up from his desk. “What is it?”
“I thought you should know…” Aidan glances at me, waiting for me to step in, but my throat closes, and I can’t make myself say it. “The designs that David loved weren’t mine,” Aidan tells him. “They were Iris’s.”
Dad glances from Aidan to me, processing this. A deep V forms between his brows, and I suck in a shaky breath.
“Yours?” he asks, gaze boring into mine. “Why?”
“I…” I swallow, trying to find the words. “I had some ideas…”
“She has a far better understanding of small spaces than I do,” Aidan says kindly. “She saw aspects I didn’t even consider.”
Dad’s frown somehow deepens even more. “She’s not an architect.”
Aidan nods, as if he’d expected this. “No, but she has the basic skills. Her ideas are good, and I oversaw her work.”
“That’s not the point!” Dad says, fist slamming on the desk.
The noise makes me jump, and I step back, hitting my shoulder on the doorframe. Pain zaps down my arm, but it’s nothing compared to the terror I feel when Dad directs his furious gaze at me.
“This firm has high standards, Iris, and the last thing I need is for you to ruin that. I told you not to get involved.”
I shrivel. “I’m sorry. I thought—”
“You’re anassistant,” he hisses. “Your job is to get coffee and manage schedules, and you can’t even do that right.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Honestly, it’s like you’ve forgotten why you’re here.”
Shame crashes through me, sharp and hot, erasing any positive feelings from earlier. He’s right, isn’t he? I got carried away making those designs, encouraged by Aidan’s enthusiasm, but that doesn’t make me an architect. Not even close.
My eyes well with tears, and I raise a trembling hand to hide my face. Spinning on my heel, I rush from the room. I turntoward the bathroom, but I have to pass the kitchen to get there, and Dani’s at the coffee machine, eyes dancing with amusement.
“You okay, sweetie?” she asks, her tone more taunting than concerned. A question that doesn’t really need answering.
Desperate, I duck into Aidan’s office and sink onto his Chesterfield sofa, dropping my head into my hands as I force myself to take deep breaths, trying to keep it together.
The polished toes of Aidan’s loafers appear in my vision a moment later, and my heart clenches.
Great. Dad has no doubt made him realize he’s made a mistake letting me work on this project, and now he’s here to tell me as much. To put me in my place, as his assistant. This sucks, and after things had been going so well. After it finally felt like we were on the same team.
