ALLISON ARRIVED EARLY FOR HER meeting with Derrek—she’d rescheduled her conference call—and looked around The Vogue, the coffee-wine bar she’d loved for years. It was a gathering place for people who still loved the idea that community could exist in the midst of a huge metropolis. The baristas remembered her name, and she remembered theirs. Long and narrow, The Vogue was painted with dark oranges mixed with reds. Paintings and photos for sale from local artists hung on one wall.
Shelves of wine lined most of the opposite wall, along with notices for events happening around town. Toward the back a small stage held two black leather chairs arranged under four paintings of guitars. Every Friday and Saturday night, local and semilocal musicians would come and play for tips.
Allison knew most of the regulars by face if not by name. It was her place. A place she would feel comfortable talking with Derrek Wright about her new life as a partner in Wright Architecture. Allison ordered coffee, settled in, and found a table between two men talking in earnest tones on one side, and what looked to be a college student working on a laptop on the other. She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes till ten. Enough time to review her journal entry from two nights back, then start on a backlog of emails that had piled up while she’d been taking care of her mom.
By ten o’clock she’d done her review and clipped through all of Monday’s emails. Allison paused, took a sip of her coffee, and glanced up at the men who sat at the table to her right. The one doing most of the listening was taller, with thick hair the color of sandstone, just starting to go gray, and eyes a shifting shade of sea green, intense and gentle at the same time. Midfifties, she guessed. The other man was younger, had wire rim glasses, and wore a Western Washington University sweatshirt a couple sizes too small. His gaze bounced back and forth between the older man and a leather-bound book—no, it looked more like a journal. Gorgeous. It appeared to be old, the leather a rich tan color with dark markings in places. Was that a tree on the cover? She couldn’t tell from this distance, but it looked like it. A thin, flat piece of leather was wrapped around the journal. The edges of the pages were creamy off-white and looked slightly thicker than normal.
The younger man patted the cover with one hand while the other cradled its spine. Strange. She felt herself drawn to it. Maybe because she had been journaling since ninth grade, when her English teacher, Ms. Flowers, had encouraged all her students to start writing down their hopes and dreams, sorrows and triumphs. Not on a desktop or laptop, but by hand, preferably with a beautiful wooden pen. Allison had done so nearly every day since.
She pulled her gaze away from the journal to find the two men looking at her. The older man smiled, his eyes bright.
“I didn’t mean to stare.” She smiled to lighten the mood. “But your journal is quite captivating.”
“Well said.” The younger man nodded and patted the journal again. “It certainly is.”
She turned back to her laptop, slightly embarrassed. But while her eyes were focused on her screen, she didn’t see anything. All her concentration was focused on the men’s conversation.
“When I look back on who I was before this, it staggers me.”
In her peripheral vision, Allison saw the man tap the journal three times with his finger. “What was I before this entered my life, Richard?”
“A man on a journey.”
“Yes, ’tis true.” The man rubbed the journal with his palm. “Well, I’m stunned at what has happened to me. And will be forever grateful for this journal.”
“It’s been a gift to know you,” the man who must be Richard said.
“So this is goodbye?” the other man asked.
“You’re the one moving in a few weeks, not me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“For a time.” Light laughter. “Only a short time, for time is shorter than any man wants to confess.”
The man rubbed the cover of the journal once more. “One more choice.”
“One more. I know you’ll choose well. Don’t rush the decision, yes?”
“No, I won’t.”
Allison’s head was down as if she were looking at her laptop but tilted to the right. If they’d glanced over, they would have seen her eyes as far right in her head as she could make them go.
Richard took both of the man’s hands, squeezed, then let them go and stood. He started to move away, then turned and shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at Allison. Whoops. Caught. She looked up into his smiling face and met his eyes. A moment later he gave a quick, polite nod and strode away. There’d been laughter in those eyes, and a knowing Allison couldn’t explain. Her gaze turned to Richard’s friend, who slipped the journal into a satchel at his side and left the table without looking in her direction.
A sensation of wanting to talk with Richard lit up her mind like a Fourth of July sparkler. Allison pushed the thought aside and glanced at her watch. Ten after ten. Wasn’t Derrek the one who had pressed for a ten o’clock meeting? Not a problem. She would plow through more of her emails, respond to a client to confirm a meeting on Friday, answer a question from her and Kayla’s accountant. Send out payment reminders to three clients. Compose a short intro letter for a pitch they’d been working on. She glanced at her watch again after she’d finished her mental list and gotten through twenty emails. Ten fifteen. She sighed and dove back into her inbox.
“Hello, Allison.”
Derrek’s bass voice floated down from his six-feet-five-inch frame.
She looked up and said, “Hi, Derrek.”
Derrek Wright. Tall. Lean but well-muscled. Dark blond hair with a cut straight out of the mideighties.
“Thanks for meeting me here.” He glanced around the coffee shop. “I’ll grab some coffee and we’ll get started if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course.”
After five minutes, Allison looked up to see where Derrek was. Venti-size cup in hand, he stood at the far end of the shop, laughing into his cell phone. Her minute hand crawled to ten twenty-five.
She’d texted Derrek earlier that morning that she had to be out of there by eleven to make her rescheduled conference call. He’d promised the meeting would go no more than twenty or twenty-five minutes. Another five minutes dragged by before Allison stood, walked over to Derrek, opened her eyes wide, and held out her hands.
Derrek held up a finger and nodded. She shuffled back to her table, sat, and pressed her lips together, arms folded. A few minutes later Derrek’s long strides brought him across the length of the coffee shop in seconds, and he settled in across the table from her.
“Thanks for considering this partnership, Allison.”
“Why me?” She spread her hands on the table. “Yes, I did well at my former company, and Kayla and I are doing okay, but we’re not setting the world on fire.”
“I know what you did for your former company. Exceptional. That’s the kind of person I need. Someone without inborn athletic talent who nevertheless went out in high school and pushed herself to win the state title in the 800 meters and place second in the 1,600 meters. The kind of person who was ASB vice president. The kind of person who competed in track at the college level and, although she only won a few races, was named most inspirational on her team three out of the four years she ran. The kind of person who was graduation speaker in both high school and college. That’s the kind of person I want to partner with. I need those qualities to grow my company to the level I see it becoming.”
“Whew.” Allison sat back and blew out a puff of light laughter. “I’d like to meet this woman.”
Derrek smiled.
“You’ve been doing a bit of research on me.”
“A bit. Not hard these days.”
“No. I suppose not.”
“Well then.” Derrek patted the table with both palms. “Since our talk last night, have you had any hesitations about moving forward?”
“I have a few questions.”
Derrek paused and gave a tiny nod. “Yes, I expected that.”
“Your wife? She’s good with you bringing on a partner? And a woman?”
“She’s fine with it. More than fine. She’s fully behind your joining us. Your being a woman has no bearing for her one way or another.”
“Good. But I’d still like to speak with her about it, make sure she’s okay, woman to woman.”
“Not necessary, although I appreciate the gesture very much. She prefers to stay out of the business, and I respect that and so allow her to remain in that posture. I’m sure you understand.”
“Sure.”
Allison glanced at the notes on her phone she’d made for their meeting.
“Last night you talked about Rod and finalizing things there before we sign our contract.”
“Yes, yes, that’s right.”
“Where are you in that process?”
“Close. As I told you on the phone, we’re about three weeks out on that matter. I’ll be buying out his shares in the company. As soon as that’s final, those shares will be transferred to you. I’ll be setting up a meeting with Rod soon to finalize everything.”
“So if we are going to partner together, we need to wait till—”
“No.” Derrek reached into his briefcase and pulled out two sets of papers. “Look this over. It’s an agreement between you and me. While you’re correct in implying we cannot sign it till Rod and I make the final dissolution of his and my partnership, this maps out all the details of how our arrangement will work. If you like what you see, you can start working for me immediately. We’ll start you at a base salary just to get things in motion, but as soon as the partnership kicks in, your pay will jump substantially.”
“Working for you?”
“With me. There’s no point in delaying. We trust each other or we wouldn’t be having this conversation. And the sooner you come on board, the sooner we can take over the entire world of architecture in the Emerald City.”
Allison smiled. “Low ambition I see.”
Derrek matched her smile. “Then, as soon as Rod and I finish, we’ll get you your Lexus, and—”
“Lexus?” Allison couldn’t keep her astonishment from splashing across her face.
Derrek chuckled. “Don’t get too excited. It won’t be new. A couple of years old. But yes, a Lexus.”
She focused on the papers Derrek had prepared. Page one. Good. Page two. Good. Page three, unbelievable: her monthly salary once the deal was done, plus a bonus structure based on each month’s profits. She would start making serious money immediately upon signing. Miracle in black and white.
“You would keep fifty-one percent of the company, I’d get thirty-nine percent.” She tapped her pen on the papers. “The remaining shares?”
“Those will be held in reserve for the possibility of another partner coming on board in the future. I see this company growing significantly, Allison.” Big smile. Big chuckle.
She turned to the last page. A noncompete agreement. “What’s this?”
“A simple noncompete agreement that says you won’t go to work for another architecture firm for six months after working for Wright Architecture. Everyone at the company signs one. It’s not significant, and it’s not something I would ever hold over you if you wanted to leave. Plus, it won’t apply to you as a partner. It’s simply standard procedure until we finalize the papers on our partnership. At that point the partnership supersedes the noncompete agreement.” Derrek leaned forward slightly. “What do you think? Can we move forward?”
“What happens to the accounts at my company?”
“You split them fifty-fifty with Kayla, I would assume.”
“What if I wanted to let Kayla have all the accounts?”
“I’d be fine with that.” Derrek chuckled. “I’m not wanting to marry you for your dowry, Allison. It’s for the skills you bring, both in design and sales, and the mentality of someone who has owned their own firm.”
She nodded and read slowly through Derrek’s pages once more.
“This is excellent, Derrek.” She patted the papers. “I’ll read through them again, see if I have any other questions, and let you know.”
“I can sense your hesitation.” Derrek’s voice grew soft. “Do you want to tell me why?”
Allison stared at him. More perceptive than most men she knew. Did she want to tell him? Why not? If they were going to be partners, secrets did not make for strong alliances.
“My partner, my current partner, Kayla. We started our company together. She’s my best friend, and while the partnership has been hard on that relationship, I still love her. I’m having a hard time imagining leaving her high and dry, even if she gets all the accounts.”
“If you give her all your accounts, I’m not sure I understand how that would be leaving her high and dry.”
It was about more than accounts. More than money. It was about history and friendship and taking care of each other. And she knew Kayla would never do well as a solo act. She needed someone alongside her. Allison paused and bit her lower lip. She had to get the words out before she never said them.
“You don’t know how timely this partnership with you is, but I can’t do it. As wonderful as everything you’ve laid out is, I can’t leave her on her own. I can imagine how it would feel, and it would devastate me. So I can’t go, not without her being taken care of some way, somehow.”
“Wouldn’t it make the most sense to trust that Providence will figure out that part of the equation?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what makes the most sense. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“You’ll let me know then?”
“The moment I get the answer.”
Derrek paused and steepled his hands. “How soon?”
“Unfortunately, God isn’t working on my time frame; I’m working on his.”
“Well said.”
Late that night Allison took a long shower and pondered the fight she’d had with Kayla earlier that day. They couldn’t decide which one of them should go through their mail first. So stupid. And exhausting. They were fighting about anything and everything these days. As the water poured down on her, she prayed.
“If this partnership with Derrek is you, God, you have to show me. I have to see something to prove it. Sorry for the lack of faith. I want to take the job with everything in me. I believe it’s you, but there’s no way I’m leaving Kayla in the lurch. So, God, help me out. If this is you, really you, then I want something crazy. I want a friend of Kayla’s, one of her friends who has her own firm—like Becca Carter or Mila Matthews—to call us, ask to do a three-way partnership deal. Okay? Please? Take care of Kayla. That’s it. I’m letting it go.”
It was ludicrous. Sure, out of the blue another architect would pick up the phone and propose the idea of joining forces. It didn’t matter that it wouldn’t happen. She’d tossed the idea out, then let go of it. It was in God’s hands, at least for a while.
That night she didn’t go to sleep till past two a.m., too many possibilities churning through her mind. When she did finally nod off, she slept far better than she had for the past four restless nights. God was in this, right? After her divorce and the financial struggle for the past two and a half years, and her dad dying, and now this catastrophe with her mom, wasn’t it time for something to go her way?
Allison woke early the next morning to the sound of her cell phone ringing.