Page 32 of The Write Choice

I wince. “Mr. Conley is my father. Brandon, please.”

“Right. Okay. Well, I don’t want to throw anyone under the bus, Brandon.”

“But…” I raise an eyebrow, urging her to continue.

She checks the door behind her to make sure it’s closed. Assured, she swivels back to me. “Between you and me, Jasper is a drag on every team he’s in.”

I nod slowly. This confirms my suspicions, but it’s my job as team lead to keep this project running smoothly. I don’t want to jump in the middle of whatever tension is between these two.

“He’s always grumpy as hell, but he’s extra pissy you’re here.” Her eyes widen and her hand flies to cover her mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I am not great at watching my language.”

I can’t help but chuckle at her discomfort. “No need to apologize. Thanks for the heads up.”

She shoots me a grateful smile, then starts to get up from her chair.

“Actually, Ms. Gutierrez—”

“Thalia.”

“Thalia. If I might ask, and you don’t have to answer since I’m not technically your boss yet, but why were you late this morning?”

“Oh.” She starts dog-earing a corner of the paper in front of her, folding and unfolding it and looking at it like it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. “Well, I’m just coming back after my maternity leave. I mean, I’ve been back for a few weeks now. My baby is six months old.”

That explains the disheveled appearance. “Congratulations,” I say warmly.

“Thanks,” she says, but she sounds less than enthusiastic. “Her father,” she spits the words with ultimate disdain, “ended up being less than reliable, so I moved in with my parents so I could come back to work. They live closer to Leade Park than to the city, which is why I asked to be put on this project. To be honest, I forgot I had to come to the office today. I’ve been doing most of the leg work at the school to be closer to home.”

I nod slowly. “Ah.” I pause, considering. “You said you’ve been with the firm for four years?”

“Yes. And I spent two years with another firm before that.”

“And you’ve been doing most of the in-person work at the high school? You’re tasked with making presentations to the team about the functionality of the space?”

“That’s correct.” She ticks an eyebrow upward, urging me to get to the point.

“Why aren’t you on this team as another senior architect?”

She huffs a humorless laugh and doesn’t meet my eyes. “You know how it goes.”

I do know how it goes, but I want to hear her confirm it. “Explain it to me like I’m five.”

She winces and chews on the inside of her cheek for a second as if trying to decide if she wants to say it out loud or not. Then, she steels herself, having made up her mind. “Nothing against your parents or anything. I don’t blame them. But people don’t typically promote women with new babies who can’t get their asses to work on time because their baby daddy can’t be bothered to take responsibility.”

I hum, considering. She finally lifts her eyes to mine, and she looks worried. I smile in a way I hope is comforting. “Your instinct to contact the teachers was a good one. And, this might be unorthodox, but your colorful language tells me you’ve got some energy. Those are things I want on this team. I don’t want to do the same old addition for this school. I want to do something truly creative, so I need more thinking like yours. We need to be able to take some risks here.”

Her eyes brighten as I’m speaking, and she sits up a little straighter. It’s clear from her expression that she’s excited about this change of pace.

“I can do risks,” she says, her eyes gleaming.

I chuckle. “Something tells me you aren’t lying. That’s great. Thank you, Thalia.”

She smiles and stands, understanding she’s been dismissed, but if I’m not mistaken, there’s a definite pep in her step as the conference room door closes behind her.

I make my way to my office, and as soon as I’m back at my desk, I remove my phone from where I left it in my desk drawer and open up my text thread to Daniel.

Working on the addition for LPHS. Hoping to talk to some teachers about what they’d like to see in the space. Know anyone?

Before my phone can even go dark, I get a text message from Mac: I have about a million ideas for this space. Want to talk now? I can call. I can drive downtown.