Architect of Love (Fated Soulmates 2)

by John Charles

  "I don't want anyone to compete with her. I want you for who you are, not for what you do or how much money you make." He looked at Lance realizing he was losing. Taking Lance by the shoulders, he said, "Stop this. If I wanted someone with a pedigree, I'd already be married. I want someone who is down to earth, real, as well as being smart. You fit all of those characteristics." Lance didn't look any better.

  "I don't have a pedigree and I'm not that smart." He attempted to pull away from Forrest, but stopped when he noticed others looking in their direction. "I can't do this. I'm not good at pretending and you need someone who looks good in a tux, says all the right words, and smiles at the right times. That's not me."

  Forrest was getting angry; angry that his position in life was preventing him from enjoying the love of the person he wanted, angry that their evening had gone from wonderful to shit, angry that Lance was being stubborn. "Please give us a chance. It would be a shame to lose what we've already developed together. Please…"

  Lance's shoulders relaxed a bit, but he still looked tense. Finally, he nodded, saying nothing as they were led to their table. Dinner was a somber event. Forrest tried to reinvigorate their conversation about the movie, but Lance was not very talkative. When the check was placed on the table, Lance grabbed it before Forrest could even move a muscle. "I got this." Lance's tone of voice was less than pleasant.

  "You still coming over?" Forrest waited by his car for Lance to reply. They had agreed that Lance would spend the night, but now he wondered if that was a good idea.

  "For a little while, but I'm not sure about staying the night." Lance turned to walk to his car, leaving Forrest alone in the parking lot. During the drive to his home, Forrest wondered how he could get Lance to come around. Yes, he was an architect and yes he was in the public eye right now, but that was not always the case. Most of his work fell under the news radar. In fact, the bulk of his work was for already existing firms that needed or wanted building renovations. City Center planning was only a small portion of his business, yet it brought in the vast majority of his customers. How do I convince Lance that I am not any better than he is?

  Lance pulled into a parking space across the street from Forrest's building a few minutes after Forrest. Sitting in his car, he could see the lights turn on in Forrest's apartment. He watched the building as if he were scoping it out rather than planning to visit a friend. Was he a friend or something more? Could he and Forrest become partners or was their relationship just for sex? Did Forrest mean what he said about who he wanted as a lover? The questions didn't stop, nor did his feelings of insecurity.

  Forrest opened the door on Lance's first knock. He had left the street level door open anticipating Lance would arrive right behind him. "I'm glad you're here." He pulled Lance into a hug. "I'm not the person you seem to think I am. Really, I'm just a normal, down to earth guy who happens to be an architect with some public customers. Please don't hold that against me!" He led Lance to the couch. "You want a beer or would you prefer wine? I have both."

  "A beer would be fine, but you can have whatever you want." Lance spotted the newspapers on the coffee table while Forrest was in the kitchen. Each had an article about Dentren Designs, or Forrest, or both. The Herald front-page article discussed the City Center contest, what the new city center meant for Monroe, and how the win would put the design firm on the map. Dentren Designs and Forrest Dentren's picture stood out among the other contestant's photos. Lance felt more nervous as he read the article.

  "They've made it bigger than it really is," said Forrest as he put the beer on the table. "I've been involved in several other city planning projects, but I must say this one is getting a lot more publicity than all the others." He took a large drink of his beer and waited for Lance to finish reading. As he watched Lance read, he could see the tension increase in Lance's posture. He sat stiff, didn't touch his beer, put one paper down to pick up another without looking at Forrest, and it was clear that he was more upset than he was at the diner.

  Forrest wanted this to end. He wanted Lance to accept him for him, not what the papers made him to be. As he put his hand onto Lance's shoulder, he said, "Listen, that is not who I am." He pointed at the pile of papers. "I'll admit, it is flattering, but really, that is not all there is to me."

  Lance put the paper down, turned slightly on the couch and faced Forrest. "Whether you like it or not, that," he pointed to the pile of papers, "is who you are. You told me you've worked all your life for this, so don't tell me differently now." His tone of voice was nearing belligerent. The look in his eyes was sad and angry at the same time. His posture was stiff, almost as if he were signaling he was ready for a fight. "You are the man they talk about in those papers and I am not in that league. I'm a laborer who just happens to be able to restore antiques. I don't even own a suit, never mind a tux. I'm not in your league, Forrest."

  Forrest tried to get closer to Lance, but his knees were in the way. He reached out for Lance's hand, but found it pulled away from him. Then Lance stood, looked around the room as if trying to find something he lost. Forrest stood, pulled Lance into a one sided hug, and realized that he had lost this wonderful man. Lance not only didn't hug him back, he pushed against the hug and separated their bodies. As he walked to the door, he looked over his shoulder. Forrest was standing where Lance left him, a look of disbelief and hurt on his face. "I'll let you know when your hutch is finished so you can make arrangements to pick it up." He walked through the door, leaving it ajar as he left.

  Forrest could hear his steps on the stairs, the outside door open and close, and then silence. He stood there, alone with his hurt for several minutes, hoping against hope that the man he was falling in love with would come back to him. He didn't.

  Chapter 9

  He ran harder and longer than he normally did on a Monday morning, but he needed to feel the burn, hoping the burn would offset the pain he still felt from Friday night. It didn't, just as it didn't yesterday either. Shower finished, Forrest drove to work in silence. He was still angry and hurt, but the feelings were starting to meld together, into one lousy feeling; a feeling that he didn't know how to put aside.

  He leaned his head back and rested his eyes a minute before going into his office. This would be an extremely hectic, nerve-wracking week. The last thing his staff needed was a heartsick boss. Several deep breaths later, he got out of his car and walked into the building. Once again, his staff was in early. They all knew the drill. They'd be out of the office on Thursday and their workloads would only increase, so they had to get a jump on things.

  "Good morning boss," came from several directions as he slowly walked through the design space, stopping at worktables as he went. It was Monday and he had not talked with any of his staff since Friday afternoon. Everyone was anxious for Thursday, yet they all knew the superstition of mentioning the contest this close to the final day. Forrest talked about the projects on their desks, their weekend, anything to keep his mind occupied and his staff on track.

  When he finally sat behind his desk, he let out a long frustrated sigh, a sigh that said more than words. Eyanna stood in the doorway, her arms full of folders and papers as she watched her boss. "You look like you just lost your favorite stuffed animal. Care to share?"

  "Not now. Suffice it to say my weekend turned out very different than planned." He washed his face with his dry hands and looked at the files in her arms. "What do you have there?" Eyanna set several of the folders she held onto his desk and proceeded to tell him about the new clients. He listened as she explained what each was looking for. "I think you need to step up the search for help. There is no way we can handle all the new clients we now have."

  They continued to discuss clients and the need for additional staff for over an hour. By the time Eyanna left his office, Forrest was starting to feel better. Lance was right when he said that Forrest worked for what he had. His life was wrapped around his work and that was why his business grew from the first day he opened. H
e had put his social life aside to concentrate on the growth of Dentren Designs. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea after all. His ringing phone stirred him from the file he had been reading. Rachell's voice brought a smile to his face. "Can you break for lunch? My afternoon meeting got rescheduled and I'm in the mood for something decadent."

  He laughed at Rachell's bubbly persona. He knew she wanted to hear about his weekend and he knew she wanted all the juicy tidbits, but there were none to share. Maybe a good lunch break was what he needed right now, so he agreed to meet her at their favorite lunch hole. He could use something decadent, too, especially after his two morning runs.

  She ordered Alfredo and a side of stir-fried vegetables along with a loaf of hot bread. "I've been yearning for something yummy and fattening for weeks. Enough with salads, I want food!" She watched as Forrest perused the menu, not seeing anything that caught his fancy. "Oh hell, give it a break. You love Alfredo, so order one for yourself." He put both hands over his chest, feigning a heart attack, and told the server he'd have the same as she had. "Great! Now you won't be steeling bites of mine." She leaned in and whispered, "So tell me, did you and Lance get together? Do tell all, my dear friend." She giggled as she waited for the story of her friend's hot weekend.

  "I'm afraid there's nothing to tell." She gave him that 'don't mess with me' look so he continued. He told her about the movie, how they both loved it, their conversations on the way to the diner, the lady, and the change of mood after she left them standing in line for a table. "I had no idea that he felt inferior, that he looked at me as a celebrity or some public figure. He even said he wasn't smart and couldn't smile on command, as if that was necessary."

  When he finished, Rachell looked as sad as he felt. She had gone through several boyfriends who didn't like the idea that she was a successful woman, but that was different. Though Forrest was successful, he was not a public figure and didn't tout his fame in anyone's face. If anything, he kept it too quiet. "So what are you going to do now? I can tell you want to see him again."

  The server had delivered their lunches, so they ate for a few minutes in silence. "This is good. It hits the spot, but I think I'll need a nap after all the carbs." Forrest enjoyed the pasta and the hot bread. The stir-fry was amazing and he wondered why he had never ordered it before. "I do want to see him, Rachell. Lance is a great guy. We have so much in common, and a few things that make it difficult, too. He feels he can't keep up with me and he made that perfectly clear when he walked from my life on Friday. No, I think it's over, but it's a damn shame that he didn't give us a chance."

  "You just let him walk out? I don't get you Forrest. Here was a guy who had you all bubbling with love, or at least genuine lust and you let him walk out of your life? What's with you?" She stopped talking only long enough for a sip of soda. "Maybe you should give him a few days and then contact him again. Go to another movie or just invite him for dinner. You said you were a good match in bed, so maybe you should go from that angle." Her smile was that of a fox telling the chickens to open the pen door and let him visit. "Make him happy in bed and he'll understand, especially if he's as good as you say he is. Let him see your darker side. Seduce him with a great blowjob or a fantastic fuck."

  Forrest almost dropped his fork. Rachell spoke her mind, but this time she shocked him. "For your information he said he wanted more than a hook-up, and frankly so do I. I think I'll just go back to my old routine. It worked for me all these years, so why change it."

  "Your old routine was no routine. You worked, slept, and ate. That's no life and you'll never get laid that way." She tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in the olive oil. Bringing it to her mouth, she said, "I take that back. You did get laid, but did any of those guys stir any nerves other than your cock?" She ate her hot bread staring at her best friend.

  Forrest's laugh told her she hit a nerve. "It's the only nerve that needs stirring. I don't need anything more than that, so give it a break."

  "Really? Then why are you so envious when our friends walk in together, arm-in-arm, touching their lovers. You practically melt into the floor every time so don't give me that shit." Forrest's stare told her she needed to give it a break. They finished their meals in relative silence.

  "Thanks for the lunch suggestion, and thanks for trying. I don't think Lance wants anything to do with me so please let it drop and let me lick my wounds in peace." They walked from the restaurant, stopped outside the door waiting for the other to talk first. "We are shutting the office on Thursday so everyone can go to the press conference. I'll call you afterward, if I have time." Lunch finished; they went to their respective offices.

  On her way, Rachell pulled her cell from her pocket and made a call. When it was answered she said, "Hi, is this Emily? I'm Rachell, Forrest's friend. I think you and I need to talk."

  Chapter 10

  The week was more hectic than anyone at Dentren Designs could have imagined. By Thursday, they all needed a break. Forrest, Eyanna, and the staff members drove to city hall for the announcement. The office was closed, phones turned to the answering service, and the mood was jovial.

  The three entries were displayed on a table in the middle of the room. Press, dignitaries, and members of each firm mingled. Forrest was surprised to see the quantity of reporters present. It must have been a slow news week for all of them to come to this announcement. At ten thirty, the mayor of Monroe called everyone to their places. Forrest, reps from the two other firms, dignitaries, and special guests sat on a make shift dais platform behind the mayor's podium.

  After several long-winded speeches about what the new city center would mean for Monroe, the Mayor returned to the podium. "I think it's time to put our contestants out of their misery. The design chosen for the new Monroe City Center is from Phila-designs. Their entry showed a clear understanding of what we need in our community. Phila-Designs took our initial idea and made it into something spectacular. Though I must admit the entry submitted by Dentren Designs was so close, we had to take three votes before we determined a winner."

  Forrest's mind went into a state of shock. He never anticipated the feeling of loss he had just gotten. He had won and lost other contests, but this one was special. He was the local firm, the boy who grew up in this town, the company that so many people rooted for, and he lost. Not only did he lose, he lost to a company from across the continent. Phila-Designs had no presence in Amity or Monroe. They were a west coast firm, a firm that had no love for Monroe, to them it was just business, nothing more.

  He was brought out of his thoughts by the mayor who had called him to the podium. "We had a tough time, Forrest. Your design was spectacular and I must admit it was my choice, but the council voted and I had to adhere to their vote." Forrest barely heard the mayor; he was numb, but he knew he had to smile and make nice for the press and his staff. If he let them see how disappointed he was, he'd lose their support, too. So, he smiled, shook the mayor's hand, that of the Phila-Design rep, and the third place entrant as well.

  When the ceremony was over, everyone was guided into the next hall for refreshments. Eyanna was immediately at his side, "I know my words will not make a difference, but you did your best. It happens and you have to move on from this." His staff was upset. They had put their lives on hold for this and now it seemed that all their hard work was for naught. But Forrest knew better, deep down inside.

  He called everyone to the side of the hall. "Look, I know how each of you feels. It hurts and I feel the pain as much as any of you, but we can't let this set us back. We have more work than we can handle and I'm sure we'll be getting more, so please try to enjoy yourselves. The mayor has spent our tax money to give us lunch. Let's eat our dollar's worth." His staff gave him a weak smile, turned and walked back into the room.

  Just as Forrest and Eyanna got to the bar, the mayor walked up. "I tried to sway them to your entry, Forrest. Frankly, I think it better suits our town than the others do, but they didn't agree with me. I will say this, th
ough. You have some strong allies in this city. We received hundreds of letters asking us to vote for your design. If I were you, I'd put a smile on your face and let the press see that you are better than the winner. Let them see how you work, Forrest. Let the citizens of Monroe see that they were right." He turned and flagged several members of the press with their photographers.

  They spent the better part of an hour talking, being interviewed, having photos taken of the mayor shaking Forrest's hand, and his entry surrounded by the staff of Dentren Designs. It seemed that the press was more interested in the local boy then the rep sent by Phila-Designs. One reporter made a comment that Phila-Designs didn't even care enough to send a key officer of the company. She let Forrest know who she rooted for.

  By the time everyone got back to the office, they were in a much better mood. "We love working for you, boss, and we'll just have to put up with your pouting for a little while, but please don't do it too long," an architect joked. She was right. Even after the press coverage and the mayor's comments, Forrest was still feeling sour.

  He put his hands in the air as if giving up. "Okay, okay, you win, but I really wanted this. And frankly I was concerned that it would hurt you more than me," he said looking at his staff. They acknowledged his comments, and went back to their workstations.

  The answering service had been inundated with calls while they were at the ceremony. Most of the callers expressed their gratitude for the company's entry into the contest. Others were from businesses who wanted to meet to discuss projects. One call came in from the police department in Clarkesburgh saying they needed help with their new police department building. "Are you kidding me?" asked Forrest. "Clarkesburgh is over three hundred miles from here. Why would they want us?"