2. Nerds
2
Nerds
Daisy
Asher will be here any minute, and I’ve only seen Jan this stressed a handful of times. Sure, she has a meeting with a big client this afternoon, but I know Asher’s imminent arrival has something to do with it. The front desk downstairs just buzzed him in, so only a few more seconds now.
“It’ll be fine,” I tell Jan in the new self-confident tone I’ve discovered. “I have this all under control.”
She gives me a clipped nod. “I know you do.”
The elevator door opens, and I suck in a deep breath when a man steps out. “Is that him?”
“Yes,” Jan says, striding forward. “Asher! Nice to see you.”
I know I should follow her, but I’m frozen to the spot. Only my eyes are capable of moving, roaming all over Asher Forbes. He’s far from the pasty nerd I expected. Wavy brown hair, broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw framed by a perfectly trimmed beard, and light-brown eyes that trap me when he looks my way. There is absolutely nothing nerdy about this guy. Nerds aren’t supposed to be so . . . sexy .
Jan says my name, then clears her throat, reminding me that I’m shamelessly ogling the guy, and I haven’t moved a single step.
“Hi!” I blurt out, louder than necessary. I march toward him and extend my hand.
“Morning.” He flashes a big smile, and a single dimple creases his left cheek. “Nice to meet you.”
When he shakes my hand, all the blood seems to drain from my fingers, turning me into a dangling puppet. Crap . Why does this average guy have such a crazy effect on me? Okay, Asher Forbes is far from average. Everything about him screams extraordinary. Now I understand why Jan is so determined to hire him. Although hiring Asher might not be the best way to get more work done aroun d here, because every single woman in the room is staring at this demi-god who just entered our office.
“So, Daisy here is going to be your guide this week,” Jan says, laying a hand on my shoulder, possibly to help me snap back from my dream state. “She’s a Chicago expert and you’ll be in great hands.”
His eyes sparkle as they trail over me. “Oh, I’m sure I will.”
Heat floods my body, and I briefly wonder how I’m still standing and not a puddle on the floor. What’s with the flirting, man? This is a professional environment. Or, at least, that’s what I’m trying to convince my hormones.
“I’m glad you’re reconsidering my offer, Asher,” says Jan, who’s apparently the only woman not affected by his charm. “And that you’ve left Purdy and Nader. You’ll find our firm to be a much better fit.”
“Maybe,” he says, his eyes flitting around the space. “I do have other offers as well—before you ask, they have requested my discretion, which I’m sure you can appreciate—but yes, I am considering Chicago.”
“That’s all I ask,” she says, flashing a big grin. “Do you want some coffee? Then, Daisy can show you around the office. I’ll be in a meeting for the rest of the afternoon, but we’ll have other opportunities to talk while you’re here.”
“That sounds great. Thanks, Jan .”
I’m studying the way Asher’s muscles seem determined to burst out of his shirt when he clears his throat. “Are we getting that coffee, or . . .?”
My eyes widen, and my muscles go rigid. “Right. Absolutely. Maybe you want to drop your bag in my office first?” I ask, glancing at the leather bag he’s carrying.
“Sure.”
After stowing his bag, we head to the break room and both grab a coffee. Now properly caffeinated, I take him on a tour of the office, introducing him to everyone and showing him around our historical building.
“Wow,” he says, nodding as we meander from the admin department to the archive. “Is it really the original building?”
“Absolutely.” I smile proudly. “Of all the architecture firms in Chicago, our building is the oldest. While our competitors wanted to showcase their skills with flashy new avant-garde buildings, we chose to put our faith in history and what we’d already accomplished. Of course, the building has been remodeled, but the exterior facade is intact, and you can still see traces of its history inside as well. Look here, for example.” I point to the twentieth-century arch that I’ve admired so many times. “And you might have seen the grand dome downstairs as well.”
“I did,” he says, looking up at the arch. “Beautiful work. Definitely a perk of working here.”
“Enough to make you take the job?” I ask, an eyebrow raised. It’s a long shot, I know, but worth a try.
He laughs, the deep sound rumbling between the walls of the corridor. “Nice try, Daisy. But it’s not going to be that easy to convince me.”
Asher
I’m officially a spy. Well, kind of. I haven’t done much spying yet, but in my defense, I just got here. Jan’s team seems welcoming, especially Daisy, who’s been all smiles since I stepped out of the elevator. Sure, it’s a pretty smile. A stunning one, actually. It lights up her entire face, contrasting against the dark-red hair cascading to her shoulders and framing her face. Under different circumstances, I might have been blinded by that smile, but not today. I’m on a mission. It might seem unfair, even mean-spirited, but this world is ruthless. I’ve known that since the age of seven. Plus, being a straightforward man and doing the right thing has never worked in my favor, whether in my professional life or in my personal life, like when my girlfriend cheated on me with my bes t friend. The truth is, this world is unfair.
“Should we take another look at the office, or do you want to head over to your hotel?” Daisy asks as we’re finishing the tour of the building. “Or maybe you’re convinced already,” she teases, offering a bright smile.
“Not quite. I figured you could show me more about the work you do around here?” I suggest, trying to sound casual.
She frowns, but even like that, she looks gorgeous. To be fair, Daisy has the kind of face that only possesses one setting when it comes to beauty. “I plan to, but I was thinking we could tour Chicago for a few days first. Fun before work, you know?”
“Oh, but work is fun for me.” I flash my pearly whites. I’m not even lying. My work is my passion.
Her face relaxes. “I know what you mean. I’m the same way. Let’s go to my office.”
We amble over to her private office, another perk of working in an old building. No huge open spaces, and everyone has their own office, albeit small like Daisy’s—120 square feet, I’m guessing—with a sprawling antique bookcase and a desk in the middle of the room.
“I’ll grab you a chair,” she says while I continue my visual exploration of the room. Client files are neatly organized in the bookcase, and the w alls are adorned with illustrations and photos of completed projects.
When she returns, we sit down at her desk, and she shows me a few projects they’ve recently finished. And I have to say, I’m impressed. It’s amazing work, utilizing cutting-edge technology while also being eco-friendly. Still, nothing we can’t do in New York.
“I’d like to show you one more, but I need to use the restroom first,” she says with a chuckle. “Do you mind?”
“Oh, absolutely not. Nature calls. I’ll wait right here.”
Here we go—my first opportunity. My heart thrums in my chest as I scoot my chair to get control of the mouse. I didn’t think I’d have a chance to do any snooping today, so this opening is gold.
I click through various folders, searching for current projects, but aside from finding out that they stole yet another client from us, I don’t come across anything helpful. The sound of a door closing from afar startles me, and I quickly close all windows, sliding my chair back to the left until I reach my original position. This spying thing is definitely not going to be that easy.
Then, something catches my eye—a green icon on the desktop named Archi7000. It appears to be a software, although I’ve never heard of it before. A thrill courses through me. I didn’t think I’d find something so substantial this soon. I glance a t the door, my heart quickening. I’ve barely exchanged words with this girl, and I’m already snooping behind her back. I take a deep breath. It’s not like I really have a choice, I remind myself. I lean forward, then click on the software icon, but a popup window immediately asks for a password. Crap.
Hearing footsteps in the corridor, I close the window and lean back in my chair. Seconds later, Daisy appears in the doorway again. That was a close call, but the risk was well worth it. There’s definitely something there. Jacobson talked about tools, and that software could be one of them. I’ll have to research it when I get to the hotel.
After another hour of paging through past projects, everyone begins to trickle out for the evening, and Daisy turns to me with another smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Want to grab some dinner?”
I return her smile. “Sure, why not?”
We leave the building, and she offers a few more architectural facts about the facade as we step onto the sidewalk.
“The exterior is my favorite part of the building,” she says, her gray eyes gleaming so brightly, I can’t look away. There’s something in the way they sparkle. Determination, passion, enthusiasm? I can’t quite pinpoint it. “All the miniscule details and the finesse.”
With a nod, I glance up, taking i n the beauty of the building. I’ve always been a fan of the Gothic Revival Style, and this edifice is a great example, with its pointed arches, ornate porches, and dormers. But it also showcases a touch of Chicago with its white terracotta facade.
“Oh, and look at the details on the gables,” she adds, pointing to the roof. “It’s really something.”
We stay like that for a few minutes, ignoring the sea of people hustling out of their offices, eager to breathe in the crisp late afternoon air.
“Your hotel is close by. It’s right on the other side of the river, but we’re going this way. I want your first impression of the river to be after sundown. That’s my first memory of Chicago, and I’ve never forgotten it.”
“You’re the boss,” I say, following her to a side street.
We start our leisurely stroll toward the hotel, and everything hits me at once. I can’t believe I’m actually here in Chicago. After years of refusing to even hear a word about this city, I’m now stuck here for a week. But this is my chance—my big opportunity. I can’t let it go to waste.