Chapter 9 Nerves and Sparks
NERVES AND SPARKS
Penny
Penny Fair: Nervous Wreck
Bank Account: A lot more now that I’m legit working for an architecture firm
Heart: Trying not to think about Archer Bellamy
Monday morning. New job. Plenty of nerves.
“You can do this, Penny.” My pep talk ended as the elevator doors slid open on the fifty-third floor to a modern, light-filled office.
Views of Manhattan on a crisp and sunny fall day stretched endlessly from floor-to-ceiling windows, stealing my breath.
I stepped onto polished concrete floors so smooth I could see my reflection.
Gold accents everywhere gleamed in the morning sun.
A heady fragrance hit me next, coming from the vase of fresh white lilies on the receptionist’s desk. Not at all like the metal-and-sweat air of the subway car on the way here.
I inhaled, squared my shoulders, and approached the front desk.
“Hi, I’m Penny Fair. It’s my first day here.”
The receptionist smiled as if she’d been on alert for my arrival. “Of course. One moment.” She pressed a button on her headset. “Caleb? Penny Fair is here.”
I admired the enlarged framed prints on the wall behind her, an impressive display of Bellamy Brothers’ accomplishments. Pinch me, I was really a part of such a prestigious firm now.
A moment later, a man in a charcoal suit emerged from the corridor, his stride smooth and assured. A touch of swagger, and the kind of charm that belonged in a sales brochure. He extended his hand.
“Penny? Caleb Hart. Archer’s assigned you to my team.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, relieved his handshake was warm and not a corporate bone-crusher.
“Likewise. Archer mentioned you’re from Steele Valley.”
I nodded. “Born and raised.”
“Maybe you can give us some insider perspective on the upcoming ski-lodge project. I’ve never been myself.”
“Happy to.” The thought sent a spark through me—the idea of my hometown folded into my career journey. Mom would get a kick out of it, despite my reluctance to move back.
The elevator chimed again, and Archer stepped out.
I hadn’t seen him since the night he made a zombie on the back of a Harley rather sinful and sexy. But him in a suit with a briefcase in hand? The vision held a new kind of power over me.
His gaze swept my face on a slow exhale. “Morning,” he said, voice low and smooth as bourbon. “Welcome aboard, Ms. Fair.”
The Ms. landed sharp and deliberate.
“Thank you,” I replied, my eyes sparkling up at him. I regretted I hadn’t been able to meet him for dinner Friday night and thank him properly or even improperly. But I wouldn’t go there now. Not when his ”no fraternizing” clause stood between us like a brick wall.
I still couldn’t believe I’d chosen the job over him, and that he’d let me.
If he’d really wanted me, wouldn’t he have said so?
Talked me out of taking him up on his offer?
At least that’s what I told myself as I drowned in the scent of cedar and spice clinging to him, infinitely better than Eau de Dog Fur.
Caleb cleared his throat, breaking the moment.
Archer nodded to him. “Keep me updated on her progress.” Then, to me again, “Settle in. We move fast and go at it hard around here.”
Fast… Hard… My pulse thudded in my ears. Being in his presence again proved harder than I thought it would be. “Yes, I will,” I managed, my throat dry, watching him disappear down the hall.
To think for one night, he’d looked at me like a possibility. Now I was just another employee.
“Don’t worry about Archer. He’s been one moody dude for some time now,” Caleb said, grinning. “But you won’t have to deal with him much, except maybe weekly meetings.” He winked, possibly at the receptionist.
“I always liked a challenge,” I muttered under my breath.
“Follow me.” Caleb motioned me toward glass doors leading into a bright, buzzing workspace.
We wove through the open layout of cubicles and desks strewn with sketches and building models. Offices lined the windows for management level. He pointed out the boardroom, kitchen, and restrooms. Finally, he stopped beside one set of cubicles.
“Maya,” he said, “this is Penny, the one I told you would be joining our team. Maya is lead architect and my right hand, basically.”
The woman looked up from her dual monitors, almond eyes sharp but kind. “Welcome. I have you all set here on the desk beside me. You’ll shadow me this week so you can get comfortable with all the grunt work he’s going to dump on you.”
Caleb smirked. “Hey. Delegation is an art form I’ve mastered.”
“Mm-hm.” She rolled her eyes before flashing me an amused smile.
Some of my nerves unknotted. “I’m excited to get started.”
Caleb gestured to the desk. “Your laptop is ready to go. The login is on the sticky note. Check our shared task list often—I’ll fill it daily. Team briefing this afternoon. My office door’s open if you need anything.”
When he left, Maya leaned closer. “Rule number one—never volunteer for anything he says, especially if it starts with ‘quick favor.’”
I laughed, the sound loosening the tightness in my chest. Determination replaced nerves.
By eight p.m. Wednesday, the office had gone from bustling to whisper-quiet.
Desks stood deserted except for the glow of task lights and the low hum of the HVAC overhead.
Caleb had left two hours ago for dinner with a client.
Maya had shot me a sympathetic look before escaping with her tote bag an hour ago.
I was still at it, finishing up my to-do list and tweaking elevations of a design on CAD. It surprised me how much of my education came back to me.
“There. Done.” I stretched my arms into the air. My bones cracked in protest. “Proud of you, Penny.”
Talking to myself helped ward off the silence. Somewhere, distant laughter echoed on this floor—proof I wasn’t the only one burning the midnight oil.
I grabbed my flash drive and trudged to the printer room, my feet like lead. Long days would get easier, I hoped. “Get this printed, then I’m out of here.”
Mid-way through, the printing machine groaned, sputtered, and choked. Paper got half-chewed somewhere within its depths. Lights flashed and beeps sounded off in protest.
“What the—?” I muttered, bending over and yanking at the doors and pulling out the paper drawer to peer inside. The page tore, scraps deep within its bowels. To retrieve it, I squatted and followed the pictogram instructions on the cover to no avail. “Oh, come on.”
“Need help?” Archer’s voice startled me.
“Oh, God!” I gasped, clutching my chest. “Is scaring me your thing?”
“Sorry.” He leaned on the door frame with a half-cocked smile—tie loosened, sleeves rolled, hair slightly mussed. The perfect picture of workplace sin. I turned back to the machine before a pool puddled in my panties.
“I—I’ve got it.” I tugged harder. The printer clattered in protest. “Ugh.”
He strolled forward. “This old girl is temperamental. She’s been with us since Brooks and I started. Let me show how it works.”
“Sure. My week’s been one long crash course,” I said, shifting aside.
He crouched beside me, thigh brushing mine. Heat skittered up my skin. “You can’t force it,” he murmured, voice a velvet scrape. “You have to coax it.”
Goosebumps rose along my arms at the sexy way the word coax came out of his mouth.
“Slide along the ridge until you find the right lever.” His fingers demonstrated, precise and slow—like he knew the body well, er, machine well. I swallowed a moan.
“Find the rhythm. Push in a little. Out. In a little more. Use two fingers if you have to.” His voice dropped, gravel-soft. “Eventually, it’ll loosen up and spit out the jam. If not—give it a little slap on the behind.”
He did just that, bending over the “old girl” and smacking his palm against the broad side. The machine whirred to life, perfectly obedient now, shooting out my pages. I forgot to breathe.
He straightened, towering over me, belt buckle glinting at my eye level. “Did you catch all that, Ms. Fair?”
“All of it, Mr. Bellamy.” I rose slowly, arching my back, my breath shallow. His eyes caught mine, amusement flickering as he wet his lips.
Holy hell, this man thought we could ignore each other for a year? Not a chance. I took a step closer.
He stepped back, clearing his throat. “You should head home. It’s late.”
“I have a feeling late nights are standard here. Caleb keeps us busy.”
Archer studied me, the edge of his tone softening. “If anything about your setup isn’t working, my door’s open. You’re on one of my best teams. But I can move you if needed.”
Did he think I couldn’t handle this? That only made me want to work twice as hard to earn his praise.
“It’s fine,” I rushed. “Only my third day. I’ll catch on.”
He nodded once. “Noted.” Then he was gone, footsteps fading down the corridor, leaving me with the steady churn of the machine and a pulse that refused to simmer down.
On Friday, our team presented the final drafts for a small boutique hotel rebuild here in the city.
As Caleb walked through the renderings and timelines, Archer sat at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, forearms a distraction for me.
He gave a nod at a few points here and there. “Solid. I like the circulation path through the lobby. Good line of sight from the entry.”
My knee bounced under the table when my rendering of the lobby café appeared on-screen. He leaned forward, the eyes of a master tracing each detail.
“The lighting concept works.” He stood and gestured to a certain point on the screen. “But who thought it was a good idea to place the HVAC intake here?”
The room went still. Heat crawled up my neck.
I leaned in. “That was me.”
“Just an oversight,” Caleb jumped in. “Easy fix.”
Archer’s gaze pinned me. For a long beat he said nothing. “Your instincts aren’t wrong, Ms. Fair. Ventilation matters. But did you consult code?”
My stomach sank. “No.”
“This is why we have these meetings before we present final plans to the client. Every detail must be studied, challenged, corrected until perfect. An error like this could cost us. Maya, have Penny spend an afternoon reviewing basic codes with Sanjay.”
I pressed my lips together, nodding. The correction was fair, but why did it sting more coming from him? Because a man like Archer didn’t get to be the best by letting a silly mistake slide by. I schooled my face neutral. No one here would see how much his disapproval gutted me.
“Don’t let him see you sweat,” Caleb whispered next to me, leaning close enough that I caught his cologne. Not quite as alpha male as Archer’s, like he tried too hard.
Before I could reply, Archer’s voice snapped across the table. “Caleb. Something to share with the group?”
He leaned back, unruffled, crossing his arms. “Just saying it was a rookie mistake. We’ve all been there.”
“You, as the project manager, should have caught it too in your preparations for this meeting, right?”
Caleb only nodded. Point made, our CEO moved on.
I’d known breaking into this field would be tough, and being around Archer proved tougher, but a moment like this made me wonder if I really belonged here.
I glanced around the table at the team I’d gotten to know this week. All of us were passionate about what we did. I was like them. I just needed to work harder than ever to keep up, to make up for the years of work I’d missed.
Right now, I was simply tired after putting in the long hours in my first week here. But it was Friday, and tomorrow I could rest a little, get my emotional support running with the canines at doggie daycare, and apparently read up on building codes.
When the meeting wrapped, I slipped out and headed straight for the kitchen. Caffeine to power me through the rest of this day was a must. The hum of the coffee brewing filled the silence as I leaned against the counter, rubbing my neck.
“Shake it off,” I whispered.
“Good work in there.” Archer entered the room, setting his espresso cup on the counter near my mug. Close enough that the faint scent of espresso mixed with his musk was like an aphrodisiac on steroids.
“But I should have known to consult the codes.” I faced him. Big mistake. I wanted to bury my face in the chest of his crisp white shirt and cry. But no. I was stronger than this.
“Your instincts were good. You’re learning.
Look, if I was hard on you in there, it’s only because I expect the best from you, and my team.
You wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t think you could do this.
” His gaze dipped, lingered where my hands stalled at my neckline. Then lower. His pupils darkened.
My nipples pebbled under his attention, the air between us tightening.
He cleared his throat. “Don’t take it personally when I call you out in front of everyone.” And with that, he retreated down the hall, leaving his cup behind.
I stared at it too long. A simple black cup with the BB branded in silver foil on it, for Bellamy Brothers. I thought about him, about us, and about the impossible task of pretending I didn’t want him. But I wanted this job. I’d prove to the world that I belonged here.
A few minutes later, Matt’s desk was empty when I reached Archer’s office, so I knocked lightly on his door and poked my head inside.
He looked up from his laptop, surprise flickering across his face.
“I believe you forgot this,” I said, setting the empty cup on his desk.
He arched a brow. “You didn’t have to—”
“I know.”
A smirk ghosted across his mouth. “Next time, can I get an espresso, frothed milk, and latte art?”
“Don’t push your luck,” I chuckled, backing toward the door. “That’s an intern-level skill—I’m an architect.”
“Yes. Yes you are. And after a year here, you’ll be the best.” His voice stroked my ego, unguarded. “About time you owned it.”
Our eyes held for a breath too long.
“Have a good weekend. Penny.”
“You too, Archer.”
In the hall, taking my time back to my desk, I let myself breathe. My lips formed a smile I couldn’t stop. Maybe Archer was misunderstood by Caleb and the others. They hadn’t been close enough to him to feel his heat like I had. Every second I was around him, I craved more.