by Fiona Riley
Devon was seated next to Farrah Sanders, a fellow interior designer with a specialty of incorporating flora and fauna into arid, dull spaces. She periodically nudged the younger designer to pay attention. She had a nice mothering quality to her, it seemed—her file stated that she had twin teenage girls. Savannah imagined that was an asset in time management and problem solving.
Reagan Fischer was their engineer, and she looked anything but the part of the nerd with the slide rule. She and Randal seemed like the physical opposites of their jobs. Reagan was confident and almost disinterested. Her manner was oddly attractive.
Daniel Jacobs was their master carpenter and contractor, and his expression was intense. His use of discarded machine parts paired with driftwood made for a unique custom furniture design side business that he frequently incorporated into their designs. Another diamond in the rough, it seemed.
The person Savannah was most interested in, however, was their fearless leader, Olivia Dawson. The write-up on this woman was extensive. Everything about her on paper described her as approachable but confident, creative, and assertive. She was a well-loved leader and an excellent mediator, it appeared. She’d been with Greater Image for eight years and had been promoted to chief designer after her mentor, someone named Albie Davis, retired. Something about Olivia appeared to bring out the best in this motley crew. She was rumored to be a master puzzle manipulator, someone that could solve even the most difficult design obstacle. And she was the primary reason Savannah’s company had sought out Greater Image over the other dozen or so firms that had pitched their involvement. Savannah’s bosses wanted to know what made Olivia tick and how she managed her team to such well-oiled perfection. She’d made huge strides in a few short years and was really making a name for herself in the industry. People were noticing. Savannah was intrigued.
When she identified herself for the first time on the video call, Savannah was struck by her natural beauty. She had long dark hair that fell in loose curls from a sloppy but cute bun. She chewed on the end of her glasses while she jotted down notes. It was sort of adorable how her brow scrunched with thought before she answered Savannah’s questions.
She reviewed the timeline and drafted the first of what she assumed would be many emails to Olivia.
From: Quinn, Savannah
To: Dawson, Olivia
Subject: Project Locations and Dates
Hi Ms. Dawson,
It was a pleasure having the opportunity to meet you and your team today. I wanted to follow up with you regarding the site locations and projected deadlines. I will be coming out to your office in about a week to start going over your preliminary concept designs. (See the attachment for specs of the first location.) We will figure out the travel timeline at the conclusion of that week, depending on your group’s progress. Our first location is Denver, CO. We have a second site in Phoenix, AZ, that is slightly larger. Our final site is in Chicago, IL, which is not far from the corporate office, so there will likely be the most scrutiny on this location. Let’s make sure it’s perfect. Sound good? Have a great day. I will be in touch.
Savannah
She was careful with her word choice. She wanted to be professional, yet approachable. They would be logging a lot of long hours together and the last thing she wanted was to start off on the wrong foot.
An email notification popped up as her administrative assistant, Annabelle, read through her schedule for the day. That was quick. She scanned the text as Annabelle reminded her of the afternoon meeting with her boss, Kenneth Dodd. She nodded distractedly and reread the email, smiling at Olivia’s mention of the video call.
From: Dawson, Olivia
To: Quinn, Savannah
Subject: Re: Project Locations and Dates
Hey Savannah!
Sounds great. I will get the team started working on the project immediately. I’m available for a phone meeting anytime after eleven a.m. on Friday. I look forward to hearing from you! If you want to make it a video call, let me know—I’d rather have IT be prepared so I don’t have to talk to a gray face the whole time. Thanks. :)
Olivia
Olivia’s response was the perfect mix of business and playfulness. The smiley face at the end wasn’t lost on her. Savannah typed back a quick response and closed the window to focus on Annabelle’s ramblings. The partnership with Greater Image Design was exactly the type of professional boost Savannah had been waiting for, and it was time to get started.
Chapter Four
Olivia and her team had been working hard the last week. Randal, Reagan, and Daniel had been brainstorming over the general room specs Savannah had sent over in her initial email. Devon and Farrah were working on the computer-aided-design program to figure out the best placement in the room for the living wall to foster their green space approach. Olivia’s time had been split between mobilizing the team into action and reviewing the less than thrilling details of the newly formed partnership with New Horizons. She loved the freedom and creativity her position allowed her, but she disliked the administrative responsibilities. Luckily, Corrine and the legal team worked out the nitty-gritty stuff, but Olivia was still on the hook for knowing some of the ins and outs of New Horizons. She’d done a little review. Sort of. Kinda.
“How’s all that paperwork crap?” Reagan set down a coffee in front of Olivia.
Olivia smiled and sipped the cup. “Oh, you know, thrilling.”
“Yeah, I don’t envy you at all.” Reagan nodded and glanced back at Randal and Daniel. “The guys wanted to head out for drinks after work. You in?”
Olivia let out a quiet sigh. She wanted more than anything to be able to join her colleagues. After this long-ass week, a drink sounded like heaven. But Savannah was arriving from Chicago today and was swinging by the office to set up a workstation.
“I don’t think I can. Savannah gets in later tonight. We’re meeting here first and then I think Corrine wanted to do a welcome dinner or something.”
“Oooh, Savannah,” Reagan teased, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Oooh, Savannah, what?” a husky voice asked from behind Reagan.
Reagan froze. Her mouth stuck in the shape of a small o as she turned to face the new voice. Olivia would have laughed if she wasn’t so captivated by the tall auburn-haired woman who stepped into her line of sight. She was gorgeous. Her bright, fashionable heels were a perfect contrast to the dark pencil skirt, expensive-looking blue silk blouse, and dark blazer she wore. The designer bag on her shoulder and matching luggage by her side confirmed Olivia’s initial impression: this woman had style. And if the raised eyebrow over those steely gray-blue eyes was any indication, she had attitude to match.
“Reagan, right?” The redhead extended her hand with a small smile. “I’m Savannah Quinn. I believe you were saying something?”
Reagan paused before she shook Savannah’s hand and, to Olivia’s horror, unabashedly checked her out. Like, full-on scoped her. That familiar, confident smile settled on Reagan’s face and Olivia cringed, knowing full well what was coming next.
Reagan leaned back against the drafting table and assumed her usual arms-crossed position that Olivia had seen her do a million times when she was trying to impress a woman and act disinterested. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I was inviting Liv here out for a drink after work. You’re welcome to join us. I’m buying.”
She lowered her gaze and Olivia thought she might be staring at Savannah’s chest. Which resulted in her looking in that general direction as well. Crap. Reagan was hitting on their client’s liaison and now they were both looking at her chest. Abort. Abort.
Olivia cleared her throat and did everything in her power to ignore Reagan’s entire existence in this world. She smiled at Savannah and leaned forward to shake her hand. “Hey, I’m Olivia. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Savannah smiled back and returned her greeting as she adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She glanced back at Reagan, who was poorly concealing her leering, and Olivia watched
in disbelief as Savannah leaned forward and stage-whispered, “My eyes are up here, Reagan. Let’s try and remember that, okay?”
A blush formed on Reagan’s cheeks as she swallowed quickly and jerked her eyes up to Savannah’s, nodding as she stepped back. “Okay, well, think about it and get back to us. Uh, see ya, Liv.”
Olivia tried and failed to contain a laugh. She’d never seen Reagan blush like that, well, not since that time she accidently walked in on her loudly singing Cyndi Lauper in the shower with a pink shower cap on during college. But they were not ever to speak of such occurrence, so she filed it back in the blackmail file of her brain. No, this was different. Not many women so easily resisted Reagan’s charms when she turned them on. She could tell she was going to like this Savannah woman very much.
“Here, let me introduce you to the team and show you around. Corrine is here somewhere.” She frowned as she looked around the open floor plan for her. She could have sworn she was just here.
“Great. Thanks.”
After the quick tour of the space and some brief introductions to the team, Olivia walked her guest into the right rear conference room. This was her favorite room in the office, even more than Corrine’s quiet sanctuary down the hall. It was located along the far wall of the building and contained a long conference table with a projector and phone system in the middle of the table. It was relatively small compared to the other conference areas in the office. It only had seating for eight people. But one wall of the room was made up entirely of windows overlooking the lush pocket park below. This was why she loved this room.
“This place is great.” Savannah looked around the room, her eyes lingered on the view.
“Yeah, it’s my favorite place to sneak away and think.” Olivia faced the window, her fingers tracing the leather seam on the seat in front of her while she thought out loud. “That’s a little view of Coleman Park. It’s a nice inspiration for the upswing of green applications in design. It helps remind you of the endless possibilities outside these four walls.” She paused, realizing she was babbling. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“No need to apologize, that was beautiful.” Savannah surveyed the room once more. “So, this is home base?”
“Yup, this is your new office. Feel free to make yourself at home. Anything you need, just ask and I will send one of the minions to get it,” she joked and nodded back toward the design center.
Before Savannah could reply a soft rap rang out against the glass. Corrine opened the door with an apologetic frown. She walked in and introduced herself to Savannah with an enthusiastic handshake before turning to Olivia and saying quietly, “Hey, Liv, can I chat with you?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Olivia glanced back to Savannah. “Excuse us a minute?”
Savannah nodded before placing her bag on the table and pulling out files.
“What’s up, Corrine? You okay?” Olivia cast a concerned look at her boss, who was tapping her foot anxiously in the hallway outside the conference room.
“Yeah. Aidan broke his ankle at soccer practice and David is picking up Allie at her friend’s house to meet me at the hospital. Can you take Savannah out to dinner? Make sure she gets to her hotel and gets settled? Please?” Corrine pleaded and reached out to grab Olivia’s hands.
“Of course, sure, no problem. Be with your kids. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thanks so much, Liv. I owe you.”
“No worries, I got this.” Olivia smiled and added, “Go.”
Corrine reached into her purse and pulled out a packet. “In here is all the introductory background paperwork I did for her—make sure she gets it. She’s staying at that hotel off Fifth Avenue that we usually use. We have reservations for seven at Machiavelli’s. I called to adjust it from three people to two. It’s all set.” She let out a weary sigh. “Okay, I’m off, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Olivia reentered the conference room to find Savannah standing by the window and lazily scrolling through her phone. She took a moment to appreciate the way Savannah absentmindedly scratched her ankle, and watched with rapt attention as Savannah’s hand traced up her calf, massaging it briefly, before she moved higher and smoothed down the front of her skirt. The light from her phone shone back on her face, illuminating her features. It gave Olivia a chance to observe her more closely, her high cheekbones and perfect jawline complemented by her pale skin and flawlessly applied makeup. She shifted and her auburn hair fell in loose waves around her face, almost veiling her profile from Olivia’s unobserved admiration. Didn’t she just get off a plane and take a more likely than not sticky and cramped New York cab ride to Olivia’s office? Shouldn’t she look a little travel worn or something? Olivia thought about what Reagan had said before and her stomach knotted. Savannah was every bit as hot as her phone sex voice promised. It was clear—Olivia’s only hope for surviving the next few months of living out of hotels and working with this woman hinged entirely on what happened next. Maybe if she was lucky, Savannah would be an absolute bore at this work dinner. That would make her less appealing, right?
She cleared her throat to draw attention to her presence. “Sorry about that, Corrine had a family emergency, so I’m going to be your tour guide for the evening.” Olivia stepped toward the table currently occupied by five neat piles of folders, a laptop, and stainless-steel coffee mug.
“Oh? Is everything all right?” A concerned frown settled on Savannah’s face as she slipped her phone into her blazer pocket.
“Oh, yeah, her son has a soccer injury. She’s got to go be Super Mom.”
Savannah nodded and paused, adding with a raised eyebrow, “Do you have a family also? I don’t want to keep you from them.”
The blush that Olivia felt creep into her neck felt unwarranted. She tried to ignore it and shook her head. “Me? No. I have a cranky landlady and a love affair with fine wine. That and this job keep me pretty busy.”
Savannah laughed. She joined Olivia at the desk and pulled out a chair before gesturing for Olivia to join her. “Well, I love fine wine and I have a healthy work ethic. We should get along swimmingly.”
That was exactly what Olivia was dreading.
* * *
They spent a few hours going over the progress of Olivia’s team on the project before calling it a night. After dropping Savannah’s gear at the hotel, they headed to dinner. Olivia checked the time and made a mental note to come up with some excuse to leave in an hour or so if the night was dragging on.
To her dismay, Machiavelli’s was fun. Olivia found herself chatting easily with Savannah. They discussed everything ranging from art to current events to comparing their favorite celebrity gossip rags. Savannah was funny and engaging. This dinner felt more like a meeting with an old friend than a business meeting. Well, that or a really fun first date. Olivia couldn’t decide which one, and that worried her a bit.
“All right, so, lay it on me. Tell me all about this team of yours.” Savannah leaned back in the booth, cradling her wine delicately in long, pale fingers. She casually circled the rim of the glass with her forefinger and Olivia tried not to obsess over how sexual the move looked to her.
“Oh, we’re at that point in the night, eh? Is this a gentle interrogation because you think I’ve let my guard down?” Olivia glanced at her own near-empty glass.
“Of course it is.” Savannah’s smile widened as she leaned forward and topped off Olivia’s glass before placing the bottle back on the table. “Spill.”
“Okay. I accept your challenge. But you have to split dessert with me, because there is no way we are leaving here without tasting the tiramisu. Deal?”
“That’s it? Easy. Done.” She extended her glass toward Olivia to clink in agreement.
“Okay, well, Randal and Daniel get along well. Randal is a super genius, but he has trouble with—”
“Dressing professionally?” Savannah offered.
Olivia liked her playfulness. “I was going to say using an iron, but
yeah, basically.” She chuckled before moving on. “Daniel is intense but agreeable, in small doses. He’s a mad genius. Devon and Farrah complement each other by bringing experience and youth to design. They also argue like mother and son occasionally, but they figure it out.” She smiled as she remembered a particularly ugly fight that started between them over the use of social media slang as graphic art on the walls of a bedroom in the home of a wealthy businessman. Devon was pushing for shock value and relevance to express the mogul’s son’s passion for YouTube blogging. Farrah was appalled when she learned what some of the abbreviations stood for, particularly the placement of a really cool graffitied #UNF over his bed. She argued that no mother wanted to know that the Universal Noise of Fucking might be associated with her kid’s bed, ever. There might or might not have been a resultant near slap fight and threats of grounding by Farrah to a bemused Devon. Olivia had to separate them for five days on different projects until they agreed to mediation, American Gladiators style, at a dojo downtown. That had been at Reagan’s suggestion. “And you met Reagan—she’s great. She has a wonderful mind and is a real creative force. She tends to really push the envelope on structural design. Randal and Daniel keep her pretty well grounded, while managing to not stifle her too much.”
“And she’s into women,” Savannah supplied nonchalantly as she forked the recently arrived tiramisu.
Olivia paused remembering the occurrence earlier in the office. She raised her eyebrow curiously. “What makes you think that?” She wanted to know if it bothered Savannah that her colleague was into women. She’d have to brace herself for that knowledge if they would be working closely together these next few months.
Savannah finished her bite before looking intently at Olivia. “I’m observant.” She paused. “And she was talking to my tits, so that kind of gave it away.”