Blueprint 2

I arrived at the conference room ten minutes early, my leather portfolio clutched tightly against my chest. It was an impressive space, sleek and modern, much like the man who owned it. The massive glass windows stretched from floor to ceiling, offering a dizzying view of the city below. For a moment, I let myself marvel at the world Noah Tan had built for himself—powerful, towering, and untouchable.

The door opened behind me, and the air shifted, almost as if the room itself recognized his presence.

“Ms. Smith.”

I turned to find Noah Tan walking in with the same composed energy I’d seen during our first meeting. He was dressed impeccably, of course—dark tailored suit, no tie, the top button of his crisp white shirt undone. If it was meant to make him look approachable, it didn’t work.

“Mr. Tan,” I replied, my voice steady, though my heart had already started to pick up its pace.

He moved to the head of the table, placing a tablet on the polished surface before sitting down. His dark eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing, as though he could peel back my professional demeanor layer by layer.

“Let’s get started.”

I took the seat across from him, placing my portfolio on the table. Before I could open it, he slid his tablet toward me. “Before we dive into your concepts, I’d like you to see the vision I have for this project.”

The boldness of his statement caught me off guard. He hadn’t even glanced at my designs yet, and he was already steering the conversation in his direction. I hid my irritation, reminding myself who I was dealing with.

“Of course,” I said, taking the tablet.

The screen lit up with a 3D-rendered video of the proposed resort. It was stunning, I had to admit. The structures were bold and futuristic, blending seamlessly with the island’s natural landscape. But as I studied it, my architectural instincts began to itch.

“You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this,” I began diplomatically, “but there are some elements here that might need rethinking.”

His brows lifted slightly, the faintest hint of amusement playing on his face. “Oh? And what would those be?”

I leaned forward, pointing to the design of the main building. “This structure, for example. The glass façade is beautiful, but it’s not practical for the island’s climate. The heat gain would be enormous, and it would require a lot of energy to cool.”

“I see.” He folded his hands on the table, watching me intently. “And your solution?”

I flipped open my portfolio, revealing my sketches. “I’d suggest incorporating more natural ventilation and shading elements. Think of pergolas, green walls, or even strategic placement of vegetation. It’s about working with the environment, not against it.”

Noah studied my designs for a moment, his expression unreadable. When he finally looked up, his gaze was piercing. “Your ideas are solid, Ms. Smith, but they lack impact.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Impact?”

“This is a luxury resort,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “It needs to make a statement, something that will draw attention and create a buzz. Your designs are practical, yes, but they don’t push boundaries.”

The comment stung more than I cared to admit. I straightened in my chair, meeting his gaze head-on. “With all due respect, Mr. Tan, architecture isn’t just about making statements. It’s about creating spaces that work, that respect the environment and the people who will use them.”

“And with all due respect, Ms. Smith,” he countered, his voice laced with challenge, “if you don’t create something memorable, no one will care how functional or sustainable it is. People want to be wowed.”

The room seemed to crackle with tension. Part of me wanted to snap back, to tell him he was wrong, but the other part recognized that this was exactly why Noah Tan was who he was. He didn’t settle for good enough.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. “I believe we can find a middle ground,” I said carefully. “A design that’s both impactful and sustainable. But that means we’ll need to rethink some of the initial concepts.”

He leaned back in his chair, considering me. “I’ll give you the freedom to make adjustments, but I want to see something bold, something that takes risks. Can you do that, Ms. Smith?”

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and it ignited a spark of determination in me. “I can.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile, and for a brief moment, the intensity in the room shifted. It wasn’t quite softer, but there was something almost... approving in his gaze.

“Good,” he said simply.

The rest of the meeting was spent in a careful dance of give and take. I presented my ideas, and he countered with his. There were moments of agreement, moments of tension, and moments when I thought about walking out. But by the end of it, we’d managed to outline a preliminary plan that incorporated elements of both our visions.

As I gathered my things, Noah stood, walking me to the door.

“You’re not afraid to stand your ground,” he said, almost as if to himself.

“I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I were,” I replied, glancing up at him.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment, and I felt the air shift again, heavier this time. “I look forward to seeing what you come up with, Lena.”

It was the first time he’d used my first name, and the sound of it rolling off his tongue caught me off guard. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and walked out of the room.

As the elevator doors closed behind me, I leaned against the cool metal wall, exhaling slowly.

Noah Tan was more than a client—he was a force of nature. And if I wasn’t careful, I realized, he might be more than that.