But we were safe for now, and that was something. At least, I’d jumped through all his hoops this week, and although he wasn’t completely happy, he wasn’t disgruntled.
I sat down behind my desk, kicked off my kitten heels now that I was alone, and crossed my legs on the chair. The office chairs were large enough that I could sit like this, one knee propped up on the armrest, and I could work for hours on end.
Parker Conrad’s file was already open on my tablet. I’d neglected his work for the sake of saving my contract with Richmond, but Parker was a paying client too. I couldn’t push him back just because he was a friend. I’d sent him a few quotes, but after approving them, I hadn’t done anything more. And I felt bad about that now.
At least, if I sent him something before I headed home this weekend, I could pick him up on Monday morning and take care of business.
It was a juggling act to keep all my clients happy when my business was so small that I was the only decorator. I still outsourced the implementation to part-time teams.
My dream was to one day have a few different designers on board who could do different portfolios for me so that I could take on more clients at once. I wanted a permanent team to implement the designs, an office manager, an HR department ... but that was all far into the future at this point. Right now, I just had to focus on keeping my current clients happy.
I looked over my list of suggestions for Parker again before I drew up the plans for his apartment he’d sent me. I liked working with the correct measurements, essentially building the space in 3D on my tablet so I could get a feel for what it would look like.
I chose jewel colors for the living areas—emerald for the living room, cobalt for the dining room, and a ruby red for the touches in the kitchen. The red would look amazing with stainless-steel appliances.
I added touches of gold to the emerald room, and ivory to the cobalt.
In the bedroom, I considered a rustic brown, with ebony finishes to keep that bachelor feel going.
A bedroom was a sanctuary and it had to reflect the person sleeping in it. It was the only way to really feel at ease in the space someone else had created. I wanted my clients to always feel at home in their own space, even though they weren’t the ones who chose what pieces were commissioned.
The gym would be monochromatic, and the spare bedroom would stay neutral, with sage and oak tones.
When I thought about the centerpiece I wanted for his display below the skylight, I came up with a blank. We needed something that would pull all the rooms together, and stand with a statement of its own.
I considered statues, but that seemed too much like the living room. A modern display with glass and mirrors was too much for what the rest of the home had, and a painting was too two-dimensional.
I needed something different. Something that would wow every person walking past it.
When I finally stopped working, I glanced at the time. It was past midnight already. Time flew when I worked—I didn’t notice how quickly it passed. And I hadn’t eaten dinner yet.
I started drafting an email for Parker, typing up everything I’d designed, adding the pictures, and telling him how stuck I was about the centerpiece. I sent the email, ready to shut down my laptop and go home.
Just before I hit the shutdown button, a reply came through.
Why are you working after midnight on a Friday?
I smiled and shook my head before I typed a reply.
I wanted to get this to you so you know I haven’t forgotten about you. It’s been a rough week.
He took a moment to reply. I refreshed my browser twice before his email landed in my inbox.
I love these designs. I have no idea what I want for the centerpiece. Maybe you should come have another look at the space.
I replied that it would be a good idea, and asked him when we could meet at the apartment again.
You can come tonight.
I hesitated, staring at the words. It was already past midnight. My phone rang, and the sudden shrill sound made me jump. Parker’s name flashed on my screen.
“I thought it would be easier to call than wait for a reply on email all the time.” His deep voice was smooth.
“It’s so late. Aren’t you tired?”
“I don’t sleep much,” he said. “I work late all the time. If you’re up for it, you can come around. We can discuss the space and ... have you eaten?”
“I haven’t,” I admitted.