Aleena
The email was already open on my laptop when I sat down at my desk.
I had skimmed it the day before, but I hadn’t let the details settle.
Now there was no avoiding them.
Client name: Liam Carter.
Project: full interior design for a newly completed apartment.
It had a short note at the bottom from Tara, my boss: “You’re on this.
Don’t make me regret the recommendation.”
My stomach tightened.
I looked up and saw him through the glass wall of the smaller conference room.
Liam was already there, seated at the table with a folder in front of him, scrolling through his phone like he had every right to be waiting for me.
For a second I considered walking straight back out of the building.
Then Tara appeared at my desk, tablet in hand with an expression reflecting impatience.
“He’s early,” she said.
“And that’s good so get in there, I’d be expecting preliminary directions by the end of the day.”
“Tara, I…”
“No.” She didn’t even let me finish.
“I’m not interested in whatever excuse you might want to mutter.
This is a high-value client who specifically asked for someone with a strong residential portfolio, and that’s you, so handle it.”
There was nothing left to say.
I picked up my sketch pad and walked into the conference room.
Liam stood when I entered.
He looked the same as he had on the sidewalk but better, actually.
More polished.
The years had settled on him in a way that made him look intentional instead of unfinished.
I hated that I noticed.
“Aleena,” he said.
“Mr.
Carter.” I kept my voice flat and professional, sat down, and opened my pad.
“I’ve reviewed the brief.
You’re looking for a full interior package on a newly built apartment.
Walk me through the space and what you want it to feel like.”
He hesitated for half a second, then sat.
“It’s a two-bedroom in the new riverside development. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
I closed on it last month.
Raw finishes right now with concrete, glass, and open plan.
I want it to feel lived-in but clean.
Warm without being soft.”
I already knew his tastes.
I had spent enough nights in his old place to remember the way he liked dark wood, low lighting, and surfaces that didn’t show fingerprints.
I used that knowledge without acknowledging where it came from.
I sketched while he talked, offering three different directions: one cooler and more minimal, one warmer with layered textures, and one that balanced both.
He leaned in closer than necessary when I turned the pad toward him.
The air between us thickened.
“You always had a good eye,” he said quietly.
I didn’t look up.
“Which direction feels closest to what you want?”
He tried again.
“Aleena.
About what happened between us…”
“The warmer direction, then.” I cut him mid-sentence, not wanting to hear what he had to say.
I made a clean mark on the page.
“I’ll refine it and bring material samples to the site visit.
We should schedule that next.”
He exhaled slowly, clearly understanding I wasn’t going to give him the opening.
We finished the rest of the meeting in careful, clipped sentences.
By the time I stood, my shoulders ached from holding myself so straight.
We set the site visit for the following afternoon.
I left the conference room before he could say anything else.
The next day I arrived at the riverside building with my tablet and sample binder under my arm.
The apartment was on a high floor, still smelling faintly of new construction and fresh paint.
When the door opened, Sophia was already inside.
She grinned when she saw me.
Liam thought you might want company while you worked.
I hope that’s okay.”
I looked past her and caught Liam’s eye for a second.
He had invited her so I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
The gesture was thoughtful and manipulative at the same time.
Sophia had no idea why she was really there.
She had no idea we had history at all.
“It’s fine,” I said, forcing a smile.
“It’s good to see you.”
We walked the space together.
Empty living area with floor-to-ceiling windows, a kitchen that still had protective film on the counters, two bedrooms that echoed when we spoke.
I took measurements, noted light angles, and asked questions about how he planned to use each room.
Sophia trailed behind us, clearly impressed.
“She’s so good at this,” she told Liam at one point, looping her arm through his.
“You should see the other projects she’s worked on.
My girl has taste.”
Liam smiled at her, then glanced at me.
“I know.”
I kept my attention on the tablet.
“The main living wall will need a stronger focal point if you want the warmer concept we discussed.
And the primary bedroom gets too much western light in the afternoon, so we’ll need heavier window treatments or the room will feel washed out.”
Sophia kept praising me, clearly proud, clearly unaware of the undercurrent running beneath every polite sentence.
Liam stayed mostly quiet, answering when asked and otherwise letting me work.
The tension never fully left the room, but Sophia’s presence kept it from breaking open.
By the time we finished, I had pages of notes and a clearer plan.
Sophia hugged me at the door and made me promise to text her later.
Liam walked me out to the elevator in silence.
When the doors opened, he finally spoke.
“Thank you for doing this.”
I stepped inside without looking at him.
“I’ll send the revised concepts by Friday.”
The doors closed before he could say anything else.
I leaned against the back wall of the elevator and let out a slow breath, the professional mask slipping only once I was alone.