by Jessie Cooke
It seemed Christo was able to somehow melt the very tip of Kennedy’s ice-encased heart.
“Well, congratulations, and thank you for the compliment. I’ve seen some of your work, myself, and I’ll be the first to say that I’m glad to have you working with us on this project.”
Of course! Christo had local star quality. That would hopefully earn Bella a point or two with Kennedy, and who knows, maybe it’d solidify a more senior position with Rita.
Kennedy quickly ran through some of the red tape for them to consider, and then she brought up the proposed trip to Galveston.
“That’d be a categorical ‘no’, and don’t even try to buck me on this. We don’t have the money to foot that bill. Make your schematics good enough to make the finals, and Grayson Hotels flies you and the other team to the site to see the resort in person and discuss details with the contractor. At that time, you finalize your designs, keeping in mind all technical aspects as well, and then see if you win the contract . . . and the trip to see your handiwork when it’s done.”
Bella had wanted to see San Luis for some help with a few ideas she had. Now, she’d have to do some phone calling and track down the team who worked on it and ask them as much as she could over the phone. Not ideal, but all she could do.
“Not a problem,” she heard herself say cheerily to Kennedy. “I have confidence in myself and Christo.”
Kennedy nodded.
“Good. You’re gonna need it. The preliminary schematics must be submitted via registered mail next Thursday.”
Bella gulped and looked at Christo, whose eyes were wide with surprise.
“Don’t worry, Bella, your schedule’s already been cleared. Guess ya’ll had better get to work.”
25
Bella covered her head with her pillow when she heard the ominous ringtone of her office calling. She had programmed “The Flight of the Valkyries” into her phone to play whenever someone from her office called.
But today, she was not having it. She’d explicitly told them that she’d be sick, anticipating a day of lying in bed, eating whatever could be delivered, and not going to the office.
She and Christo had barely made their deadline for preliminary proposals for the Grayson Hotel project last week, rushing into the post office at 4:58 much to the chagrin and jagged arrows shot from the eyes of the postal workers at the front desk. Upon returning to her regular duties, she found a mountain of paperwork and appointments that had been booked for her, ready for her to get back to her “normal” schedule now that it was a waiting game with the contest.
She’d felt her body rebelling. Her throat was scratchy and her eyes were teary. She’d already coughed up some nasty-looking weird yellow stuff, and she was relatively certain that her stomach had been feeding on the mucus and its own lining for the past two weeks, as she couldn’t recall eating “real” food for the duration of her research and creating.
But the plans they’d submitted were astonishing. Just last night she had looked at the copies she’d made for herself to mount into her portfolio, amazed that she in fact had been the one to create the elegance and grandeur that she was seeing.
The phone stopped ringing, and she issued a happy sigh of relief, only to hear the song start up again.
“Nooooooo,” she said as she pulled her pillow around her head tighter. The one day she’d allowed herself, and it was being overtaken by work, by the very people who had left her in this state, by the very people who had encouraged her to take some time to herself.
When it began to ring for the third relentless time, Bella flung her pillow across the room, sat up in her bed, and answered angrily.
“Bella?” the voice of a Dreamscapes receptionist came across the line very timidly. “I am really sorry to bother you, especially on a day off, but Rita was adamant.”
“Adamant about what?” Bella could hardly believe how rough she was being to this poor girl who was merely following orders.
“About getting you on the phone. She wants to tell you herself. Will you hold?”
“Do I have a choice?” Bella asked.
“I guess not. Sorry. Just a second, please.”
Within seconds, Rita’s gruff but cheerful voice came across the line.
“Bella! I’m sorry, I know you requested today off, but I just received word, and thought you’d like to know.”
“This couldn’t have waited until Monday, Rita? Really?” She was actually a little impressed with herself at the way she was standing up to her boss.
“It could have, indeed,” Rita said, “But I chose not to let it. And I think you’ll be glad when you hear more.”
“I’m all ears,” Bella said, barely able to contain the sarcasm.
“You’re in the finals.”
“What?”
“Your design . . . for the Grayson Hotel Resort contest? You made the finals.”
Bella sat on the edge of her bed, her back straight with the news she was not expecting.
“Are you serious?” she asked her boss.
“Quite. Just received the call this morning. You and Christo will need to choose the week you spend on the property and confirm within seventy-two hours.”
“Seventy-two hours? Geez, this is all happening too fast,” Bella said.
“Time is money for them. It’s the vacation industry, Bella. They want to be up and running so that those vacation dollars can be spent on them, not somewhere else.”
“I guess,” Bella said, her mind already flipping through her mental calendar hoping to choose a time to travel soon.
“I’ll email you the details regarding the finals, and you can talk with Christo this weekend. I don’t want you to waste any time with this.”
“Right. For sure,” Bella responded.
“Oh, and kiddo, I’m really proud of you. You did well for the whole team,” Rita said and then the line went dead.
Bella sat on the edge of her bed letting it all sink in a little longer. This was one of those times she wished she didn’t live alone: she had no one to jump up and down with, no one to waltz through the apartment with, no one to squeal in excitement with.
But that didn’t stop her from doing it all anyway.
And when she’d exhausted herself with her own private celebration, she called Christo and squealed with him.
Her life had become a whirlwind of dates, meetings, swatch samples, and sketches, but she finally allowed herself a moment to bask in the glory of a seat in first class when she was finally aboard a plane to Miami on the first leg of their journey to Haiti. As she looked out the window at the clouds they were chasing, Bella had a fleeting thought of a conversation she’d once had with Reece.
“My mom says I’m just a late bloomer,” she had confessed to him. It was a night in South Padre during that infamous weekend that had been the beginning to the end. “I just never really knew what I wanted to do, until recently.”
“Interior design, you mean?” he’d asked as he stroked her breast.
“Yeah. I mean, I was always interested in that. Watched all those renovation and redesign shows growing up, but, I never thought it’d be a career. It was more like a cloud.”
“A cloud?”
“Yeah, like a dream, like something that I could see and loved, but if I tried to really grasp it, it would just disappear; it wasn’t reality, not something that I could really make a life of. Guess that was my blue-collar upbringing. I figured it wouldn’t really go anywhere, or I’d at least work in this firm for eons before anything would really happen for me.”
“And here you are, sailing among the clouds,” Reece had said. “You don’t need to grasp them; you’re in them. They’re in you. All those wishes, all those dreams, they’re right here, and they’re yours. Don’t ever underestimate yourself, Bella. You’re a damn good designer. You have a natural ability and talent, a great eye that rivals what some people only wish they could develop. You’re doing exactly what you should be doing: you’re following yo
ur dreams.”
He had kissed her after that—a long and tender kiss where he’d stroked her cheek and massaged her hair, and she had been so sure that, once the weekend was over, she’d be following another dream . . . one that included him.
But in that case, she’d been wrong.
“What are you thinking about over there?”
Christo’s voice brought Bella back to the present.
She turned away from the window and looked across the aisle at her best friend, and the one who had helped her to win this design contest.
“I’m just pinching myself to make sure this is all real,” Bella smiled.
“I know! It’s amazing. We’re this close,” Christo said as he held up his thumb and forefinger only a millimeter apart. “We can do this, Bella. We are a formidable team.”
“We can,” she agreed. “I just don’t want to lose our focus or our humbleness. Pride goeth before the fall, you know.”
“You’re right. The moment we get too cocky, that’s the moment we lose it. But just so you know: I have a really strong feeling about this.”
Bella leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. She had to admit, she had a really strong feeling about this, too, but what that feeling was she couldn’t quite describe. It was confidence mixed with a weird, ominous mounting of emotions, as if something big was building up, getting ready to devastate her. For good or for bad she couldn’t really tell.
26
“And this is the third dining room. It will be more ‘kid friendly’ than the others, so you may way to keep that in mind for your final designs.”
Bella and Christo were begin led through the final stages of the resort as it was being fitted for electrical and media. The contractor Pedro had swept them through the property, and Bella was still feeling good about their preliminary choices.
“Is the entire resort going to be wired for Wi-Fi?” she asked. “Even the dining rooms?”
Pedro nodded. “Everywhere. Wi-Fi and Bluetooth, DSL connections faster than some people get back in the states.”
Christo knew where she was heading with her question. “So, anyone can stay plugged in and downloaded from anywhere on the island?” he confirmed.
“You’ve got it. It’s a vacation with all the comforts of home as well. You can even take your tablet to the pool if you want . . . not that I’d recommend it; the glare would be horrible.”
“But it’s something to consider in designing,” Christo commented.
“Sure.”
Bella was already envisioning the dining room in the design she’d submitted with mirrored balls and LED lighting underneath the tables and booths. She’d first thought of going with bold colors, but then reconsidered after acknowledging that the bold colors might overstimulate kids and make dinner time on vacation a little harder than it needed to be. She’d settled on the sage green and mocha that was featured in some of the sofa designs for some of the rooms.
“And this is where I leave you,” Pedro announced. He’d walked them back to the elaborate makeshift quarters that were theirs for the week. “Dinner will be brought around 7, but if you need anything between now and then, call star-7-7 and ask for Gabi. She’ll be happy to accommodate you. I’ll give you a chance to settle in, and see you tomorrow around this same time to answer any questions and look over anything else you’d like me to.”
They said their goodbyes and flopped themselves down on the sofa, simultaneously kicking their feet up on the Ikea coffee table.
“You know, for temporary accommodations, this ain’t too shabby,” Christo said looking around. They were staying in a mobile unit that was bigger than Bella’s first apartment by a football field. While it was obvious that the accommodations were temporary, it was just as obvious that the company had spared no expense in making what could have been ramshackle and quite rough actually comfortable and homey. Two full-sized beds partitioned off by sliding trestle doors joined in a common area with kitchenette. Though the countertops weren’t marble, there was still a level of expense that had not been spared with the fixtures and amenities.
“Considering we’re out in a jungle on an island off the coast of Haiti, yeah. This is pretty nice,” Bella agreed.
Christo had gotten up from the sofa and was pawing through the drawers and cabinets in the small kitchenette.
“What are you looking for?” Bella asked, a little annoyed at the noise.
“A corkscrew. I brought a little something from home.”
He had pulled out a bottle of wine that he had bubble-wrapped and packed into his luggage.
“And that is why I am your friend!” Bella said, hopping off the sofa to help Christo look for a corkscrew.
“Is that the only reason?” Christo faked a pout, and Bella knew that he wasn’t serious. He liked having these conversations that led her to tell him all the many reasons that she loved him, but she didn’t know if she could do that right now. She’d been battling keeping herself from thinking about Reece this whole day, wondering what was happening on the baby front among other things. Ever since the plane ride, she couldn’t help but question everything he’d ever said to her, wondering if he had just filled her with crap the whole time. All those compliments and pep talks: was it just sunshine he blew up her ass, or was it true? Did he really believe in her, or was all of that just a way for him to endear himself to her, all the while knowing that he’d knocked up her best friend?
“Viola!” Christo flourished a corkscrew at Bella saving her from a taxing conversation and bringing her back to the present.
“Yes! Now let’s get those grapes flowing,” she said, offering him two glasses from the cupboard.
He poured and raised his glass.
“To the best team to ever work together, live together, and play together. May we always be a great team.”
“To Christo and Bella,” she rallied and clinked his glass with hers.
The wine coursed down her throat and began to warm her body. Bella could already feel her muscles relaxing, and the kinks in her neck were loosening up.
“So what changes are you thinking?” Christo asked as he settled down to talk shop while they awaited their meal.
Bella confided that she was not thinking of changing much at all. She had full confidence in their designs.
“I still like the black and white for the Paradise Villas. Those are the larger houses with three bedrooms. You know, the top-of-the line ones?”
“I like that scheme for that too. There’s just nothing more elegant than black and white. I think for the top level, that’s nice. I’m thinking the chrome and stainless steel as well for everything, but I had an idea for Paradise Villas. I don’t know if the builder will go for it, but, what about a way to join the private pools?”
Bella thought for a few minutes. “You mean like a little river-like structure that joins the other pools in the villa?”
“Yeah, so like if you wanted to party with your neighbors, you could.”
“I don’t know. It seems like people might take advantage of that. Would you want to be on a romantic honeymoon with Simon and presto, someone’s kid all of the sudden appears in your pool?”
“What kids can afford to vacation at these prices?”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Bella commented. “I think the concept is interesting, but I just don’t know if it’s really practical.”
Christo shrugged and nodded. “You’re probably right,” he said.
“I did think about having a few pagodas sprinkled around, you know, like in between restaurants and villas with fireplaces and lounge chairs, maybe stocked minibars, where people could hang out.”
“If they put small bars at some of them, that’d create more jobs,” Christo suggested. “You know, just beer or wine bars.”
“Or, they have those dispensers you can use now. Where you just slide your guest card and use it to purchase a glass of wine or beer.”
“That would be awesome!”
&nb
sp; “So, maybe we draw those in, but let’s think about placement. That’s gonna be key.”
They continued to go over every detail of their plans, deciding what to discuss with the contractor tomorrow, what to change, what to leave. They agreed that their design was strong and an excellent fit, but they were afraid making no changes would send the wrong message to the contest judges.
“Who are the judges anyway?” Christo asked.
Bella shrugged. “I’m guessing some of the builder’s top people, maybe the contractor, maybe an independent designer. I have no idea.”
“Well, I’m gonna need to know.”
“For what purposes?”
“So I know who to start schmoozing. Not that I don’t think our design is solid, but a little extra attention thrown the judges’ way never hurt.”
Bella sat up shocked. “Would you really do that?”
Christo blushed. “I have been known to play dirty when I felt desperate.”
“And you feel desperate now? What about the confidence in our design? Where did that go?”
“Oh, Bella, I do have confidence in our design. I just have confidence in others’ too, and I don’t have confidence in the judges.”
“There will be no foul play,” Bella said, her finger in Christo’s face. “None whatsoever. Understood?”
He nodded.
“We win on our own merits and lose on our own merits, but either way we play fair and we walk away knowing we did our best, and it’s their loss for not choosing us.”
She suddenly realized that she wished she felt as confident as she sounded.
27
Dinner came and so did another bottle of wine, some of the best that Bella had ever had. She turned the empty bottle over in her hand examining the label.
“I’m gonna have to get me some of this,” she slurred, her mouth stained from the overindulgence she had allowed herself.