1. Chicago, I love you
1
Chicago, I love you
Daisy
There's nothing Chicagoans love more than Chicago. And after eleven years here, I proudly consider myself one. I understand how street numbering works, I’ve ditched the ketchup on my hot dog, and I shop at Jewels. This city has stolen my heart with its unmatched gastronomy, music scene, sandy Lake Michigan beaches, public art, and of course, the reason I’m here in the first place—its unique architectural history.
I knew I’d love Chicago, but I never thought I’d feel so at home in this city. More than I ever felt anywhere else.
My footsteps echo across the hall as I hustle toward the elevator, the sound amplified by the stillness of the morning.
I swipe my badge, and the elevator goes up, stopping on the sixteenth floor where I work as an architect for Hackett Studios. As always, when I take in the spacious lobby with the long brass lamps hanging from the historical coffered ceiling, I suck in a breath. Working here will never get old.
I wave and bid good morning to the handful of colleagues who are here as early as me while striding to my office. I like to come in before the rush so I can read my emails, get my coffee, and prepare myself for the day ahead.
“Daisy?” Jan, my boss, calls from her office as I stroll down the corridor. Her door is ajar, and I push it open.
“Hi, Jan. Do you need me?”
“Hello, Daisy.” She nods and gestures me into the room. “I do. Close the door, please.”
Slipping into her office, I’m instantly greeted by the smell of coffee, hardwood, and books. Not really a surprise, given the mahogany bookshelf taking up three quarters of the room. Jan motions to the chair across her desk. “Have a seat.”
“Is everything all right?” I ask, tugging on my sleeves. Heat creeps up my neck as I mentally flip through all my current projects, wondering whether I could have done something wrong.
“Everything is fine.” She smiles, sitting up straight in her swivel chair. “Great, actually. Do you remember my former collaborator, Asher Forbes?”
“The guy you’ve been trying to recruit?”
She points at me. “Exactly. I’ve never given up, calling him a few times a year just in case, and he’s finally come around. I offered him a project management position and a full relocation package, and he agreed to come here for a tour.”
I swallow hard, averting my eyes to the arched window. She’s offering him the project manager position when I’ve been here working like a maniac for five years? I’ve been biding my time, telling myself that my colleagues with more experience and seniority were more deserving of the promotions that have come up. But now she’s offering a coveted position to this guy who’s not even working here yet?
“And I want you to convince him to take the job,” she adds, settling back into her chair.
“Wait, what? Why do you think I could convince him if he’s refused countless times before?” I might have an extraordinary learning capacity and a photographic memory, but I haven’t mastered the art of influencing people yet.
“He’s coming to Chicago, isn’t he? So, he must have some interest.” She smooths down the sides of her pixie cut. “But I’m not taking any chances. I want him to be wowed. He’s good, really good. And with so many new clients coming our way, we need him. Of course, Doug—having an ego the size of Manhattan—doesn’t see his potential, but I always have. That’s why it’s important that you do everything in your power to make him take the job.”
“But—”
“Daisy, you love this city. I don’t know anyone who’s more passionate about Chicago. Just look at you, working here full time, yet you still find the time to give architectural boat tours! There’s no better person to convince Asher he needs to move here. The guy is a real architecture nerd. I’ll give you the company’s credit card so you can buy tickets to all the tourist attractions and museums. Show him all the architecture and art Chicago has to offer, treat him to restaurants, take him on one of your tours, and he should fall in love with the city all on his own.”
I wring my hands in front of me. “When does he get here?”
“Next Wednesday, and he’ll be here for a week.”
“A week?” I blurt, my jaw dro pping. Is this a job interview or a vacation?
“As I said, we’re going all in for him. He needs to take us seriously. I’m sure he has other offers on the table.”
Wow. This guy had better be as good as she claims he is. “What about the Olion project?” I ask. The last thing I want is to let my clients down.
She waves a hand in dismissal. “That project is almost done. You’ll have to come to the office to show Asher the facilities, so you can answer emails when you’re here. But I’ll tell Andrew to free up some of his time to help you with it, if needed.”
I twist my mouth, thinking this through. “Okay. So, I just have to show him around the city and the office? Yeah, I think I can do that.”
She gives me a pointed look. “Of course, you’re not to show him anything confidential. Nothing on our current projects or the Archi7000 software, but do introduce him to people. We have a great work environment—I want him to see that. Oh, and show him some of the buildings we’ve completed too.”
“Okay.”
She arches an eyebrow. “So, you’ll do it?”
I blink back, my forehead wrinkling. Wait, isn’t this the part where she offers me something in return? That’s how it works when your boss asks you a f avor, right? Maybe I’m mistaken, because Jan isn’t moving a finger.
Well, I’m tired of waiting, of always seeing opportunities pass me by.
“I’ll do it,” I say, crossing my arms. “But in return, I want to be promoted to project manager too.”
Jan’s blue eyes gleam as they settle on me. “Okay.”
Okay? Just like that? My brows furrow, but I push ahead. “And I want the ZK project.”
She tilts her head to the side, looking amused. All right, maybe I got a bit cocky there. I guess I’m one of those people who are easily exhilarated by power.
She clasps her hands. “Done.”
“Really?” I utter, my heart thudding a mile a minute. The ZK project is one of our biggest projects in the pipeline.
“Yes. You deserve it, Daisy. It’s about time you go after what you want. Convince Asher, and it’s yours.”
I stand up, stretching my hand toward her. “I won’t disappoint you, Jan.”
She shakes my hand. “I know you won’t.”
As I leave Jan’s office, I feel like I’m walking on clouds. The old Daisy, who was a pushover for so long, is now officially gone. I’m finally pursuing what’s rightfully mine, and I’m going to get it. I’ll invest all my energy into this, craft the perfect itinerary to make this guy fall in love with the city. After a week with me, there’s no way he’ll refuse this job.
When I get home, I kick off my shoes, shed my coat, and walk to the couch with my laptop.
“Hey,” greets my housemate Lucy, her brunette head peeking from the kitchen. “What’s up?”
I glance up at her. “Ah, you’re here! Sorry, I’m still working. I’m crafting the perfect tour to make someone fall in love with Chicago.”
She joins me on the couch with a cup of coffee. “Who’s the guest of honor?”
I flash her a big smile. “It’s this big-shot New Yorker who Jan wants to hire from her last job. She’s been after him for a while, but he always said no. Now, he might be ready to make the switch. He’ll be here all week for a tour of our office and the city, and guess who has to entertain and ‘wow’ him?”
Her green eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “You’re way too nice, Daisy. You always give too much and get nothing in return.”
“Not this time.” My lips tilt into a grin. “If I manage to convince him, I’ll be scoring a project manager position and the biggest project of the year.”
“Oh. That’s why you look even more extra-happy than usual. You go, girl!”
I give her a pointed look. What’s wrong with having a positive attitude? Grouchy people don’t exactly make the world go ‘round. Besides, I’ve been a lot less “extra,” or “happy,” for that matter, since last year.
“What? It’s true,” she says, gathering her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail. “You look like you’re on steroids.”
“I’m excited! How could I not be? I’m finally getting everything I’ve ever wanted, not to mention an all-expenses-paid tour of the city.”
She breathes a quiet laugh. “What do you have to do, exactly?”
“Just show him around, and prove to him that Chicago is the best place in the world.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard. It is the best in the world,” she retorts. Said like a true Chicagoan.
“Agreed.” I bob my head. “But I wonder if my favorite roommate and the most amazing sports journalist could do me a favor,” I venture, giving her my best puppy dog eyes borrowed straight from my brother’s huskies.
She arches an eyebrow. “Which d o you want, hockey or basketball tickets?”
I smile. “You know me. I love the cold.”
She shakes her head, breaking into her signature communicative laughter. “You got it. There’s one game next week.”
“Perfect.” I draw her into a hug. “Thanks, Luce.”
“You bet,” she says, standing up and sauntering to the kitchen. “What’s the point of having tickets to every sporting event in the city if I can’t share them with my bestie? Plus, Chad is out of town again.”
I sigh, knowing all too well how hard her boyfriend’s crazy work schedule has been on her. “I know. When is he back?”
“On—”
The doorbell rings, and we both freeze. Lucy rushes to the kitchen threshold, her green eyes widening like two saucers.
We share a full conversation with our eyes without making a peep.
I glance at my feet, then hers. She’s wearing slippers. I give her a look that says, “I have my socks on. Less noise.”
She nods, but looks at the door, then down at herself, then back at me, which translates to, “But I’m closer.”
I wince, glancing at our hardwood floors, reminding her they tend to creak.
She nods firmly, ending the conversation. This one’s for me. I rise from the couch as silently as possible and tiptoe to the front door, not even daring to breathe. Gathering my courage, I peer through the peephole, praying I won’t see my ex’s face.
I let out a huge breath of relief and open the door. “Hi, Mrs. Calausky. How are you doing?”
“Daisy, hello, dear. I’m sorry to bother you. I wanted to make a cake, but I don’t have enough sugar. Would you by any chance have some?”
I glance back at Lucy, who nods and races into the kitchen to grab the sugar for Mrs. Calausky.
She thanks us profusely, and Lucy and I sigh in relief when we close the door.
“I really thought it was him,” Lucy says, bracing herself against the wall for support.
“Me too,” I say, my poor heart still racing.
“When was the last time he was here?”
“New Year’s Eve.” I purse my lips, remembering how Todd stumbled onto our front porch, drunk out of his mind, demanding I take him back.
“Has he contacted you since then?”
“Not since I changed my number, ” I mutter, absently rubbing my arms.
“Have you contacted him?”
I swing to face her. “What! No, of course not.”
Her green eyes grow suspicious. “Are you sure? Because you’ve said that before and ended up back in his claws.”
“This time it’s over. It has been for over a year. Believe me, I’m not falling for his act again. I haven’t spoken to him in four months, and it’s going to stay that way.”
“Good,” she says, rubbing my back. “You deserve someone good. And you’ll find him.”
I snort. “Are you kidding? I may be single, but I’m not ready to mingle anytime soon. After what happened, I’m steering clear of men for the foreseeable future.”
“Right.” She rolls her eyes, walking away. “Daisy the romantic, not looking for love? I don’t think so.”
“Well, get used to it.” I cross my arms tightly over my chest. “Haven’t you heard? The old Daisy is out, and the new Daisy is going after what she wants. And it’s not a new man.”