Lenny Ward has been described as vicious, cold, a player, and downright brutal when it comes to his family’s business. Never in all my years of design have I felt this nervous to present my ideas. If they like the ones I have today, I’ll be contracted to design all their homes to come, including the mock houses. If I’m passed over, it’s back to the drawing board. It’s time to take off the Southern gloves and play hardball with the man who could ruin it all.
2
Lenny
I’m not sure why my partner, Blake, is pushing for this interview today. It’s not like he’s never done this kind of thing in the past. This isn’t my territory. I couldn’t care less what color the cabinets are, the type of texture the flooring is, nor can I tell the difference between eggshell and fucking cream-colored paint. All I’m interested in is finding a replacement for Rose. She handled all aspects of design and build that we needed. Rose’s last day was on Friday. We threw her one hell of a retirement party but forgot one tiny detail in the mix. Ward Properties needed a replacement. We failed to start interviewing before she left, thinking that we could sweeten the deal and she’d stay for another year or so. That backfired in our faces bigger than ever. Instead, she moved her retirement date up and left.
Rose has been with our family’s company since my father sold his very first piece of property and built the manor. She’s been not only our right-hand lady but the left and the middle since then. When my father retired, she agreed to stay on for a few more years to show me the ropes. Her warning started less than a year ago. I’ll never forget her coming into my office and telling me that in 300 days she’d be gone. I blew it off, thinking it was a joke. I’d receive weekly reminders on my phone that she programmed, emails that flooded my inbox, and those bright yellow Post-It notes all around the office with countdowns. Each reminder that would pop-up on my phone I’d close. Each email I’d delete. Each Post-It note I’d rip from whatever item she’d placed it on. I even went as far as offering to pay her more money, adding another four weeks of vacation time, and offering any available house she wanted just for her to extend her time with us.
See, the real problem with Rose leaving—I don’t trust anyone. You can’t in this business. Everyone and anyone is out to gain from your mistakes. One tiny slip with the wrong hire and your design concepts are leaked to the competition. You’d think in a city like this that there’s room for everyone, but that’s not true. Every week there are new pieces of land being cleared for another subdivision or apartment complex, and we have to be in front of it—not behind. When I took over the company from my father, we owned a little over twenty different properties throughout Savannah. Now, Ward Properties owns over fifty altogether. I’ve got contracts out for another ten that should be closed by the end of the year.
Blake reminded me that it doesn’t matter how many deals we have. If we can’t execute the ones we have with the best designs, they mean nothing. That’s the only reason I agreed to go across town and listen to what Jules Aldridge has to say.
Parked in the tiny lot off to the side of Designs by Jules, I glance around the empty area taking in the two vehicles that occupy a few spaces. A Camry and a Prius. Yep, my sleek black Mercedes is out of place here. I wonder if they’ve ever handled this large of a project before. I don’t remember seeing anything stand out on her resume, which makes me question Rose and Blake’s judgment for the millionth time this week. Even though Rose is not in the office as much as I’d like these days, she’s keeping tabs on us until the position is filled.
I unfold my long legs from the confines of the car and stand. Not wasting any time, I grab my folder from the backseat and head toward the door where I have to be buzzed in. With the sound of a click echoing around me, I pull the door and enter a vast open space. A lady is sitting behind the desk off to the right. She’s younger than me, probably in her late twenties to early thirties. I run my eyes over the rest of the entryway. Modern with touches of Southern heritage throughout the space. It's not bad, but I have to admit I was expecting more.
“Lenny Ward to see Jules Aldridge,” I say to the woman that’s now smiling larger than life back up at me.
“Yes, sir. She’s expecting you, follow me,” she responds as she stands and waits for me to step forward. I follow close behind, examining the way her skirt forms to her curves, the heels that adorn her feet in a way that you wonder what they’d look like wrapped around your waist in the middle of the night.
“Have a seat, and I’ll let Ms. Aldridge know you’re here. Can I get you anything?”
“Your phone number,” I tell her as I take my seat at the conference table.
“Oh, Mr. Ward, you flatter me, but I’m very much taken. Thank you.” She doesn’t sound offended but smiles up at me before she excuses herself. Crossing my leg to rest on my knee, I lean back and wait. I’m hoping she doesn’t keep me long, as I’m not a man who likes to wait for anything. Turning in the chair to face where the wall of prints rest, I take a mental note of the designs. I wonder if they’re new, or if they’re samples of projects she’s done in the past. Placing both feet on the floor, I push up from the chair and pad over to get a closer look. Lost in my examination, I don’t hear Jules enter until she clears her throat.
“Hi, I’m Jules Aldridge. Thanks for meeting me today,” she says, gesturing out her hand toward me.
“Lenny Ward,” is all I respond with.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Ward, shall we get started,” she asks, motioning over to the table where I now see a laptop and pieces of paper stacked next to it.
“Sure,” I state, following her over to the table. I’m trying not to devalue her as I take in her appearance. It’s been a few months since I saw her walking through the country club, and I can say she looked nothing like she does now. The pencil skirt is tight around her curves, putting her receptionist to shame. The silk turquoise shirt is low-cut but not that low that you’d think she was trying to show her breasts on purpose. It’s just enough to tease you to want to peek.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Are those your designs?” I point over to the back wall where I just was.
“Yes, that’s the Marshall House. We did the remodel last year.”
“Impressive,” I tell her as I take a seat next to her. Jules shifts in her chair, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before she meekly thanks me. From the way her voice is low and strained, I’m picking up that she's not used to compliments.
“Now, I was told that you have some properties that need to have a few different design options and four mock homes that need to reflect those designs. Is this information still correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Okay, so I put together some virtual homes that should be close to the floor plans that I was given.” She starts to explain the program, but I can’t focus on the words. All I can see are her plump lips that are moving and begging me to taste them. This was a bad idea to send me here. Blake should be here instead of me. Shifting in my seat, I adjust myself hoping she doesn’t notice before I lean forward to get a closer look at her screen.
“You’ll see that I mixed modern, Southern, and a little contemporary into each home. Giving the buyer an option to change out different elements throughout the house.” She points, explaining, and for the life of me, I don’t give a damn about any of it. She’s got the job whether she wants it or not.
“How busy are you currently?”
“I’ve got a few projects that we’re working on, but nothing as committed as yours.”
“Do you have other people who work for you here?”
“Yes, you already met my assistant and my business partner is out on site today.”
“So, there wouldn’t be a problem if you worked on site more than here? I’m sure Rose explained the duties to you.”
“She did, and that wouldn’t be a problem.”
“What about meeting clients after hours, being on site for them on the weekends and such?”
“Not a problem, Mr. Ward,” she responds, and the way my last name comes from her mouth makes me want to know how my first would sound as she screams it from my bed. I’m going to need to keep distance between the two of us. Move Blake over to handle the dealings with Jules. The one thing my father taught me before handing over the company was to keep it in my pants with my employees. Don’t screw them. It’ll end badly no matter what you do. Jules Aldridge is no exception to that rule.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“When can you start?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Jules looks surprised as she shifts to face me.
“When can you start? It’s a simple answer, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I’m just shocked, and I can start as soon as you need me to.”
I stand before saying, “Today works, and I’ll get the contract over to you this afternoon. Any questions?”
“No, sir, and thank you. I look forward to working with Ward Properties.” She stands before completing her sentence. She’s shorter than my six-feet, causing her to look up at me with the brightest green eyes that I’ve ever seen.
“You’ll have an office at our place. Once the contract is signed, I’ll messenger over the keys and security code. When you get settled, let me know if you need anything for the office. I’m sure you’ll find what you need there.”
“Okay, quick question. How many days a week will I be expected to be at your office and not mine.”
I know I shouldn’t, but control isn’t one thing that I’ve ever been good at.
“Every day, will that be a problem?”
“Nope. I got it,” she says, nodding. I can tell that wasn't what she was expecting, but those are my terms.
I slide a business card out from the back pocket of my jeans and hand it to her. “If you need anything, that’s got my cell on it. Just give me a call, and we’ll make sure it happens. I look forward to working with you, Ms. Aldridge.”
“Thanks, so do I.” The moment she finishes, I reach down for my folder and head toward the glass door of the conference room. I have to remove myself from being so close to her before I screw this up before it even starts.
Walking out to my car, I dial up Blake.
“How’d it go?” he asks as soon as he picks up the phone.
“Good, hired her on the spot, but I have to ask why you couldn’t find someone a little older?”
“It’s new times, Lenny. The older designers are booked and retiring. Time for fresh, new people, don’t you think?”
“I guess. Can you have the contract sent over with the keys?”
“Sure, you okay, man? You sound a little different.”
“I’m great, going to clear my head before I come in. I’ll talk to you later,” I say before clicking end on the call. I have no idea where I’m going. I know there’s no way I can go back to the office and sit there. It’s not until I pull into my parents’ driveway that I realize I drove all the way out here to see them. Might as well tell them the good news on hiring Rose’s replacement.
3
Jules
I wasn’t expecting to walk in and witness Lenny gawking at my designs on the wall. I honestly didn’t expect him to be the one to do the interview today. When I was told it would be him, I figured he’d back out and send someone else. I’ve heard he couldn't care less about this aspect of the business. The joke was all on me when I entered, and there he was in dark denim jeans that hugged his ass so tight that I wanted to reach out and make sure it was real. Not to mention the way his gray Henley t-shirt was slightly tucked in front and loose around the rest of his body. The top three buttons were undone, showcasing his dark tan. He stood so close to me that I almost lost control of my legs and fell flat on my ass. It’s crazy when you think about reactions to the human race. From a distance, he’s always been nice looking. Up close, he’s a male God who reeks of danger and temptation wrapped up in a bow. With every word he spoke, I shifted in my seat. I can only pray that he thought I was nervous and not turned on in the slightest. In all the years working with men in this business, I’ve never questioned my sanity or ability to keep it professional. I blame my hormones and David for this. The changes in my life have me doing weird things. That’s the reason behind my actions. Okay, who the hell am I kidding…
It’s Lenny Ward.
He’s all male…
He’s sex on a stick… and he knows it.
The one thing I wasn’t expecting was to have to work at his office and not mine. That surely wasn’t mentioned to me before, or I might have had to reconsider the whole opportunity. I’ll have to figure out how this will work. No, I wouldn’t revisit. I need this contract. If nothing else, I need this for my daughter and me. This will guarantee that we will be back on our feet in a matter of months. Having this in the books, I’ll have steady income coming in from the company. It’ll cover the expenses for my team, me, and the office. Yes, it’ll be a change, and we’ll make it work in the end. Might take some time getting used to not working in my office but I’ll adjust.
“How’d it go?” Anna, my assistant, asks as she comes into my office.
“Good, we got the job,” I say as I take a seat behind my desk.
“Are you kidding me? Does Lacy know yet?”
“Not kidding and no, I’ll call her in a few.”
“Wow… How’s this going to work?”
“That’s the funny thing. I have an office at Ward Properties, and I’m expected to work there.”
“That’s odd, don’t you think?”
“I do, but I’m going to call Rose and see if she can explain more to me.”
“I would. I thought the contract said you could work from your office and that you’d be expected to visit the model homes and stuff.”
“Me too. They're going to send over the contract this afternoon. Once it arrives, will you bring it to me?”
“Right away, boss,” she says as she stands from the chair in front of my desk. “Oh, did you mention your schedule to him?”
“No, I didn’t. Rose knows, but I’ll make sure that Mr. Ward knows as well.”
“Off the record, did you notice how freaking HOT he is?”
“I’m not dead, and yes I did. But good thing I’m not on the market.”
“However, for that man, I’d put myself back on the market if I was single. Mr. Ward already asked for my number,” Anna tells me, and I laugh. Not at Anna, but at the fact that the sex god was hitting on my assistant. I’m not even sure why this shocks me. He’s the one guy in this town who will never settle. He likes his fun, and other than being focused on work, he keeps a revolving door of women in his path. Not my style. If I was younger and didn’t have a teenage daughter, I might reconsider the possibility of getting tangled in the sheets with him. My reality though doesn’t have room for a fling nor the pressures of dating someone. It’s bad enough that my divorce is still dragging out and I don’t know when that will be final. I can picture it now. The moment David would get wind of me dating someone, everything would be tied up in court. Not to mention he’d hold it over my head with the custody of Sophia. He already explained to his lawyer that he thought I worked too much, and by too much, I mean that I work period. All through our marriage that was his biggest complaint. I either worked too many hours or was gone taking care of clients more than I was at home. David seemed to forget that before we married, I had a business that I was starting from the ground up and I was going to continue to work no matter how much money came with his name. Designing isn’t about how much money I can make. It’s also been about the desire that burns deep within me. The joy of witnessing your client’s face when they walk into a room after you did your magic for the very first time. Yes, now it is more about the money as I need to support my family of two. David makes sure that the money he gives me goes to anything and everything Sophia needs. Rent, car, insurance, and all the other crap that I have to deal with as an adult is up to me. David pays for private sch
ool for Sophia and makes sure that she has stuff for school. If it were up to me, I’d put her in public school. Not that I don’t want my child to have the best education, but I think she needs real-life experiences and to not be covered by her father’s name. What’s going to happen to her when she goes off to college? Her father won’t be there to pick up the pieces. Oh, wait… What am I talking about? Yes, he will. He’ll do it to piss me off.
Shaking David from my thoughts, I flip through some papers on my desk and try to regain my focus on the day's task. Lacy, my partner, isn’t due back from her walk-thru for another hour and my next client isn’t expected for another few hours. With no idea on when the contract from Ward Properties will arrive, I grab my purse and exit my office. I need to look at a few houses for rent before the rest of my afternoon obligations.
Pulling into a small subdivision that’s only a few miles from my work and Sophia’s school, I notice the model home is open. I didn’t make an appointment to view the house that’s available here, so I need to stop to see if someone is here who can show it to me. If I would’ve planned this out better, I’d have had the realtor meet me for a walk-thru. With my car in park, I slide out of my car and head toward the front door. Just as I go to knock it swings open, and I’m face to face once again with Lenny Ward.
“Mrs. Aldridge, are you stalking me?” he asks with a sideways smirk that makes me want to smack it off his face.
I square my shoulders before responding, “No, that couldn’t be farther from the case. I’m looking for someone to show me the property that’s for rent.”
“Well, Patricia isn’t here, and I have a few minutes to spare... Guess I can show you.”
“If you don’t mind. I’ll be quick about it,” I state, fumbling with my key fob in my hands.
Forty Candles: A Standalone Romantic Comedy Page 2