One More Chance

A Cigar is Just A Cigar

Giana

To say that I wasn't freaking out when Bryce approached me would be an understatement. Sure I've seen him from afar and I've done so many of his projects. There's also no shortage of photographs on the walls of Holden Design showing him off. But he was right here just minutes ago, talking right to me, asking me if there was anything he could do to help me.

And what did I do?

I got snarky.

But it was the only reaction I could think of to hide the many things I would have wanted him to do at that moment, none of them work appropriate. It's absurd to crush on him when I need to focus on the project in front of me and nothing else.

To be picked out from a pool of architects working at Holden Designs to personally work alongside the son of the owner is an opportunity I can't afford to mess up. It's my big break. Even if Bryce is getting all the credit, it would raise my stock with his old man. A rise in profile like this means that raise I've been hoping for and it also means I could afford to move Grandma into that facility across town, the one known for their excellent memory care.

"Here's my personal phone number," Bryce says as he emerges from his office, slapping a business card face down on my drafting desk. On the back of it, he'd scribbled his phone number.

"Why would I need your card? You're right here."

"I have to meet an associate at the country club."

I frown. Of course he's going to go to the country club. Probably to play golf. "Okay."

"But I want to stay in contact if you need anything," he continues. "Don't hesitate to call. I'll have my phone on the whole time."

"Sure thing, boss," I say, putting on my stone face. It's my best defense against him, especially when he's smiling at me the way he is now. It's better than acting like a smitten teenager while the school quarterback is talking to you. "I'll call you if I need anything."

"I have complete trust in you, Giana. You got this." He pats me on the shoulder before making his way to the elevator. As usual, Bryce looks gorgeous in his tailored suit, an errant lock of hair falling over his forehead. He certainly lives up to his reputation as one of Auburn Springs' most gorgeous (and eligible) bachelors and I bet he knows just how he affects the women around him.

Stop it, Giana. As if he'd even look at you.

As the elevator doors slide close, I sigh, returning to my work in front of me. Just as well that he's gone since it'll allow me to focus on the job at hand instead of stealing glances toward the office. It doesn't help that the walls are made of glass and so we could see each other but it's a distraction I can't afford.

"I can't believe he's leaving you to do all the work," my best friend Io Patterson says as she stops at my drafting desk. The first time she introduced herself to me on my first week at work, I thought I'd misheard her name. Who'd name their kid Io? Turns out, someone who loves Greek mythology, that is. She and I have been pretty close since then.

"It's not like he can help me with the drafting," I say. "He should be in management."

"Yeah, but that would mean we wouldn't have any eye candy to drool over."

I laugh. "Only if he shows up."

"I mean, I heard he actually finished top of his class at Columbia before doing his internship in a world-renown Manhattan firm for three years so I don't know what the deal is with Senior sending him to work in this department when he could be with the rest of the bigwigs."