Chapter 02

QUINN

"Miss Quinzel!" Came the booming voice of my wonderful boss, Gunnar Astor. He had just gotten off the phone with Asher which put him in a foul mood.

I flinched, nearly spilling the hot coffee I was about to sip on. Everyone on the floor looked at me with sympathy glazing over their eyes. They all knew not to come within a mile radius of Gunnar when he was in this state. Unfortunately, I couldn't duck for cover like the rest. I had to face the raging storm head-on and hope it didn't eat me up and spit me out before I had the chance to say one word.

With a sigh, I placed my coffee onto the table and covered it with a coaster. I wasn't paranoid but growing up with a brother like mine taught me not to leave things unattended, or at least not to leave them open. Rising to my feet, I ran a hand over the soft material of the blue dress I wore to smooth out the creases. One of Gunnar's many issues was people not taking pride in the way they dressed to work. I remember when I first started, Gunnar had reprimanded a guy for wearing a tie that had candy canes on it. Personally, I thought the candy cane tie was adorable. Gunnar, however, thought of it as childish.

I bet he was one of those kids who never believed in Santa growing up.

Knocking on the door, I waited for Gunnar to say the all-powerful words 'come in' so I could pass through the gates of Hell and face the Devil's wrath. My every instinct told me to run in the opposite direction. I could hear my brain yell at my legs to make a U-turn.

Mayday, mayday!

The red lights of distress were already going off in my head and I could picture my guardian angel upstairs looking down at me and probably telling God how badly my ass was about to get burned by this scornful man. Was I being too theatrical? Maybe. But who could blame me? Today might actually be the day I would gather the courage to quit before it all turned into an actual wreckage. Maybe, if I counted myself lucky, there would be a parachute to save me.

All those thoughts dispersed in a cloud of smoke when he permitted me to enter. I stood a safe distance away, keeping my head down in fear that his hard glare would kill me. He was the male version of Medusa. Ask anyone working in this building and they would conquer with me.

"Miss Quinzel, close the door," He ordered gruffly and I obeyed. It was better this way. The closed door would muffle the massive temper tantrum he was about to have.

Yes, I called it a temper tantrum. Accepting defeat was beyond him.

"What seems to be the problem, sir?" I asked softly. Deep down, I felt like one of Christian Grey's submissives, only being allowed to address this idiotic man by sir or Mr. Astor. Again, he found it disrespectful if anyone addressed him as anything else. Saying his first name was the highest form of insult. He acted as if we were unworthy to speak his name.

Drama Queen!

"I just got off the phone with Asher. Did you know he was looking at other firms as well, more specifically Harper Designs?" He kept his voice level and calm but I knew better. He was like a ticking time bomb. As long as there was time on the clock, everything was good. When that time lessens then panic would be felt and finally, when the time ran out...

You couldn't possibly imagine the destruction caused when Gunnar's timer ran out.

"No, I did not know that," I lied. Working here had made me a lot better at lying, "they said they were sticking with you after you did such a fantastic job on his home." This was true but Asher's home was designed to his wife's wishes. Clearly, Gunnar hadn't taken that into account.

"Well, Harper Designs pitched them a God damn brilliant concept because one of my biggest clients has just decided to jump fucking ship," Gunnar yelled and I couldn't help but shrink into myself.

I gulped, fidgeting with my fingers to distract me. Being yelled at and dealing with mood swings wasn't my strong suit. One might call me sheltered but I called it just being respectful. If you were in a bad good that didn't give you the right to take it out on everyone around you. Not many people thought that way though. I was part of the minority that did and Gunnar was part of the majority that didn't.

Testing my luck, I decided to steal a quick glance at the gorgeous yet monstrous man. He was too preoccupied with grabbing a mug from his table to notice my eyes do a quick survey of him. His green-brown eyes were more brown than green at the moment. Strong, sharp jaw taut and pillow lips pressed into a thin line. His brown hair was neatly sleeked back, not a single strand out of place. He had days worth of stubble collected along his cheeks and chin but it was neatly trimmed and gave him that dangerous brooding look. If you looked close enough you would see the softness of his features but at first glance, all you would see was the cold, hard person he wanted everyone around him to see.

Every day without fail he wore a neatly pressed Armani suit with a different watch to match. His shoes were all designer, all costing more than the apartment I currently lived in. Just like him, I came from money but setting us side by side would be like comparing the dessert to the north pole.

Then again, I was meant to look the way I did.

The mug Gunnar had grabbed soared past me, making contact with the drywall and crashing to the floor in pieces, "How is it that in the past month Theo Harper has had the upper hand on me?" He roared and I knew it was a rhetorical question because he continued with the tantrum, "one after the other, all my fucking major contracts have been leaving and it would be fine if they went somewhere else. Anywhere else except Harper Designs."

"I'm sure you will find a way to get them back," I murmured under my breath but as soon as the words were out of my mouth I wanted to scoop them into a dustpan and throw them into a trash can.

He met my gaze and I stilled. Every part of me just froze in place as if he were Medusa 2.0, "And how do you suppose I get them back?"

Me and my big ass mouth!

I had no logical reason to blush but under his intense gaze, I couldn't help but tint a slight hue of pink. It was probably due to the embarrassment or how flustered my thoughts felt. Wringing my wrists, I allowed myself a moment to breathe. What I was about to do would probably piss my dad off but saving my own behind was more important right now.

"Maybe," I began in a weak whisper, "maybe we could set up another meeting. Maybe we can force his hand by giving him a better design. Just the way they did. There's still time for them to begin construction, right?"

"Yes, but he's made up his mind. There's no reason for him to set up another meeting. Do you think he has free time to just set up spur-of-the-moment meetings whenever he feels like it? Honestly Miss Quinzel."

"It never hurts to try right?" I squeaked, my voice getting caught in my throat.

Gunnar sighed, something on his table catching his attention, "Tell me, do you think Asher received an invitation to the Harper's ball?" He mused, holding a gold-colored envelope in his hand.

I bit back my groan. Mom had already sent out the invites. I was hoping to chat with her and coax her into not inviting this nutjob, "He probably has received an invite if he wishes to do business with m—" I caught myself before the words could leave my mouth, "with Mr. Harper." It was so difficult to not say, my father.

"Can you believe the fucking audacity of these pricks? They steal my clients and then send me an invitation to their balls. It's like telling me 'here's a giant fuck you."

If only I could actually gather the courage to tell him that.

"I'm sure that now works in your favor," I pointed out, licking my lips.

I watched Gunnar's eyes zone in on the action and quirk a brow in what looked like interest but his eyes shone with boredom, "Maybe it will be. Imagine me pitching the new design during Harper's anniversary party. My gift to him and his wife will be taking back what was originally mine to begin with," this came out as a snarl and for some reason, I felt his words held a double meaning to them.

Curiosity. One of man's greatest downfalls. It was what urged me to open my sealed lips, "What do you mean?" I had only realized I had stepped further into the room when I found myself standing at the foot of Gunnar's desk.

"I mean Asher Holdings," he put blandly, "do me a favor and organize a suit for me as well as two masks and a dress for Katie. She will be attending as my plus one. Also, make sure no one disturbs me. The ball is this weekend and I need to get this designed by then. If you let anyone in Miss Quinzel, you're through!"

Oh, those sweet words almost made me want to let everyone in and encourage them to throw the wildest party just so he could let me off the hook. Instead, I just nodded my head and said, "Yes sir, anything else?"

"No, that's all for now. Try not to screw this little task up," he ordered curtly, pinning me down with his eyes yet again.

Those eyes of his were extremely beautiful.

Frowning at his words, I nodded and made my hasty exit. The moment I was behind my desk I finally felt the tension in my body evaporate. I instantly got to work on preparing the things Gunnar had asked me to. Katie was Gunnar's girlfriend. They were perfect for one another. Both had soar attitudes as if they were grown on the same lemon tree.

By the time I was done with that, and going over the minutes of the few meetings Gunnar had yesterday, it was already time for lunch. My lunch was always spent with the same two people — Jaxon who was another architect and Priyanka who was a college-going intern. We met up in a coffee shop almost twice a day just to rant about work. Of course, they didn't know who I truly was but it was nice being able to be myself in some ways. Having them as friends was the only good thing that came out of this whole thing.

Sitting around the table in the cute coffee shop we found was the only thing I looked forward to during my working day. Those two people were all it took to make me feel better. Because us humans needed that human interaction to feel just that little bit normal.

"You should have picked something extremely hideous for her to wear, it's what I would have done," Priyanka shrugged a shoulder as she took in the picture of the dress I chose for Katie.

I didn't want to toot my own horn but I had pretty good taste. Katie would never admit that though. It was why Gunnar always told her that he picked out gifts for her. He took the credit, having his cake and eating it too.

Could you get lower than that?

"Katie might claw my eyes out. Have you seen her manicures. Cardi B has nothing on that girl," I scoffed, tucking my phone away.

Priyanka snickered, tossing her wavy black hair to one side before tossing it back — she could never figure out which side she preferred and almost always ended up parting her long locks straight down the middle, "I guess boss man knows what to get his girl for her birthday this year," amusement shone in her hazel orbs, "a diamond-encrusted nail clipper."

"That was lame," Jaxon deadpanned, shaking his head as he rolled the sleeves of his white button-down up to his elbows. They were always folded because he always had a sketch pad in hand with a pencil. Today was no different, "Q, what do you think of this?" He asked, showing me what he had been working on.

I looked at the Roman Classical architectural design and smiled, "I think the only thing about this I'd keep is the columns.  It's a big house right, so try a Victorian-style home. You've got to add a tower because I love those but when designing the front do a subtle Roman Classical design for the porch. You could have the columns on a small scale and still have a wide entrance and maybe a step way leading up to the house. I don't know, have some fun. Sometimes, people request things they think they want and when they see it, it's not really their thing. But your creativity might be exactly what they need."

"Look at you kid, this is why I ask your opinion," Jaxon chuckled, patting me on the back. He was twenty-five and originally started off as an intern in Astor Architecture just like Priyanka.

He was a naturally friendly guy with blonde hair that was more white than blonde — styled back with short sides and a long top — and gray eyes that could make any girl a swooning mess. His square-shaped jaw was something I loved about him because it made him look like a pretty boy. However, he had the build of a jock. Lean, muscular, buff. He managed to full his suit out perfectly.

Priyanka was twenty, more close to my age, and definitely more relatable. Her golden-honey skin held the most gorgeous tan without even trying. High cheekbones accentuated her oval face. Her bottom lip was plumper than her top and when she smiled she showed off her one chipped tooth. It wasn't that big of a deal, just a small piece that she would be filling in with gold soon.

"She's a natural with this stuff," Priyanka agreed, sipping on her black coffee, "please tell me you're going to college to major in this. I'll kick your ass if you're not."

I smiled sheepishly. This stuff came naturally to me but it wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. It only came naturally because of the environment I grew up in, "I actually wanted to do something along the lines of teaching."

"I mean, it's a good job but kids are stressful as fuck," Jaxon grumbled, "just the other day my brother got himself suspended for having a joint on him."

"Bet you patted him on the back and said 'well-done bro'," Priyanka deepened her voice when she tried imitating Jaxon but still failed.

"No," Jaxon scoffed, "that would mean what he did was right. I told him that next time he tries this shit he better not get caught."

"Oh yes, because that's the best advice to give your sixteen-year-old brother," was my sardonic reply.

"I'm his brother, not his parent. If I don't cut him some slack, who will?" Jaxon pulled the pencil he kept behind his ear out and started sketching again.

Priyanka scrunched her nose at me, "Being a teacher sounds boring as fuck. It's not that I hate children it's just that I hate their behavior. Makes me not want to have any." She shuddered at the thought, "and growing up brown means ma won't mind taking her shoe out and hitting you over the head when she thinks you need it."

Jaxon let out a breathy chuckle, "She's knocking the sense into to you."

"Oh yes, that's so funny," She narrowed her eyes into slits, "don't make me knock some sense into you."

"Behave you two. I say, if I can deal with the two of you then I can deal with a group of teenagers who are always angry at the world. I mean, I'm still classified as one of those teens and you guys love me."

"Yeah, we do love you so just consider it. When you finally attend college, you should try your hand in architecture and design," Priyanka murmured, "Just think about it."