I knew confidence was gained through experience, but it also came down to having an eye for design and being comfortable in that.
This was an area of my life where I felt like I’d really come into my own shortly after I’d started working for Johnny, several years ago. I would wake up at all hours of the night thinking about the homes I was designing. That creative side of me had come to life, and with that, I had a newfound confidence.
This feeling that I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing.
I’d lost that for a little while after I’d moved to Paris.
But I already felt like I had gotten my mojo back, and it wasn’t about moving to New York, or proving anything to anyone. I’d gotten my confidence back in Blue Sky Bay, but I hadn’t realized it.
It wasn’t about what firm I worked for, or even being featured in a magazine, although neither of those hurt. It was more about creating something that I was proud of. And I’d felt just as fulfilled when I’d completed Cutler’s family’s home and the Petersons’ home as I’d feel about completing this project.
I’d been lost when I was living in Paris.
But I’d found my way again back in Blue Sky Bay.
Coming to New York City was the right decision. I’d stepped out of my comfort zone in design. I was surrounded by some of the most talented designers in the industry. I was living in the most amazing city, and it would be something that I would forever look back on and be grateful for.
But did I see myself living here forever?
I didn’t.
Cutler and I had agreed not to make any decisions just yet, as we wanted to give it some time. The fact that he was willing to walk away from the company that he’d built without hesitation—that meant something to me.
And anytime I complained about the noise and the traffic here, he was the one who’d tell me to be patient. To give it time. To enjoy the experience.
So that’s what I was doing.
“I think this is going to be spectacular. You’re really making a name for yourself.” Johnny wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and I thanked him.
And I held my chin up a little higher when we stepped outside, because he was right. I was working hard and making a name for myself in a career that I loved. I was putting in long hours and growing as a designer, and I was proud of that.
And it felt good to feel proud of myself again.
Johnny and I made our way back to the office, where I spent the next few hours placing orders, and then I jumped on a Zoom call to meet with a new potential client. On days like this, the hours just blurred together and I lost track of time, and I was embracing it.
“Please say you’ll come to happy hour for just one glass of wine?” Whitney asked as she stood in my doorway. She was the office manager at J&J Interiors, and we’d hit it off immediately after I started working here.
Over the last two months, I’d turned down Whitney’s many invitations to office happy hours because I worked long hours—and I was more of a lunch girl, if it was up to me—but I decided I was going to branch out a bit.
“I’ll come.”
“Stop it!” she shrieked. “Get your purse before you change your mind. We’re just going to the wine bar next door.”
I chuckled at her enthusiasm, and we walked the short distance over to the wine bar. Whitney was quite a bit taller than me, and her black hair was cut in a sharp A-line bob just below her ears. She always wore red lipstick and exuded confidence.Justine, Mara, and Talia waved us over to where they were sitting at a high-top table.
“I’m so glad you came,” Mara said, her long blonde hair pulled back in a neat chignon as she leaned forward and hugged me. She was a designer who’d been with the company for two years.
Talia was her assistant, and Justine ran the marketing team for both the New York and Los Angeles offices. They were all good friends, and we ate lunch together a couple of days a week. We’d all grown close.
“Me too.” I set my purse down and took a seat. “I guess work will be waiting for me tomorrow.”
“So how was your long weekend home with your hot contractor?” Talia asked, tucking her red hair behind her ears as she smiled.
They’d met Cutler on FaceTime during lunch at the office a few times, and they’d loved him, of course.
“It was great. It was hard to leave,” I admitted, pausing to order a glass of wine, and Whitney did the same.
“Damn. I wish he lived here and had a sexy single friend you could introduce me to,” Whitney grumped.
