June 22nd
A contented sigh.
Ainsley
“Wow,” Jadyn says, pointing to one of the two design boards I set in front of her. “This design is quite unique.”
And I’m trying to figure out if that’s like someone saying you look nice when you think your outfit should elicit a word like fantastic or gorgeous.
I swallow and hope she doesn’t hate it because I am obsessed with the way it turned out. The other board is nice. It’s just that it’s way safer. Standard. Typical.
But I feel like Uncle Tripp has never played anything safe in his life.
She looks at the other board, nods approvingly, then goes back to the first one. “Tell me about your inspiration for this.”
“Um, well,” I stutter out, because I know this is going to sound silly the second I say it, “I imagined the kind of home Uncle Tripp would have if he were a cowboy. Thought the lobby of the hotel should look like that.”
She starts laughing.
Shit.
But then she says, “That’s exactly what this is. He’s going to love it. The massive copper-covered fireplace is truly an incredible idea. It’s very much a mix of the rustic vibe of Cowtown with a touch of Dallas bling.”
I heard Fort Worth was called Cowtown, but I sorta thought it had to do with cowboys—which I guess, in a way, it kind of does. It got the name because of the cattle drives that had started in the Midwest and ended at the Fort Worth Stockyards.
“And these coffee tables—are they honed marble?”
“No, they’re concrete,” I tell her.
“And what gives it the sparkle? A glitter finish?”
I shake my head. “They’re actually made from Unimin white quartz sand, which glimmers. I like the juxtaposition of the rough stone with the smooth copper. Plus, you can put your boots up on it and never hurt it. Same goes for cocktails.”
“I really like the rich color of these chairs,” she says, studying the other board. “Do you think you could work them into this design?”
“Yeah, I think that would look—” I start to say, but then a coworker sets a steaming bowl of refried rice with some kind of fish in front of Jadyn, and I immediately feel sick. “Oh, um, can you give me a minute?” I say to her, quickly leaving the room and heading straight to the bathroom.
I take a deep, cleansing breath.
The smell made me feel like I could throw up, but now that I’m away from it, I’m completely fine.
Oh my gosh. Do I have morning sickness? But then I laugh at myself because it’s not morning. It’s nearly one.
I probably need to look up pregnancy symptoms. What’s normal and not. And see a doctor to get confirmation.
Although I did take a pregnancy test again this morning, just to be doubly sure. Because other than being tired—which, considering the number of hours we’ve been working, isn’t a surprise—I feel good.
And I’m glad. I need whatever symptoms I might have to wait until I’m done with this project.
Because now, more than ever, I really need to do well. I need Jadyn to give me the most amazing referral letter ever so that I can get a good job when I graduate.
“Are you feeling okay?” Jadyn asks when I return.
“Yeah, sorry. Just a little tired. But I’m fine.”
“I feel ya. I’ve been exhausted too,” she says. “This is a big project to try to make perfect in a short amount of time. Are both designs within budget?”
“They are. The only variable is that copper prices change often, but right now, we’re good.”
She looks out into the main office space and yells, “Claire, can you come in here?”
Claire, who is just under Jadyn in the design pecking order for this project, gets up from her desk and joins us.
Jadyn says, “How far along are you”—I start to panic. How could she possibly know I’m pregnant when I just found out myself? I’m sure I look guilty when I glance down at my belly—“on the bathroom plans?”
And I realize she isn’t talking to me, but rather to Claire.
I let out a deep breath.
“We have some mood boards and a bunch of ideas,” Claire replies. “But we’re waiting for the exterior and lobby plans to get approved so that everything will be cohesive.”
“Excellent. Look at this concrete,” Jadyn says. “I would love to make bathtubs out of it, but I think they would weigh too much. Don’t you think that it would make amazing sinks though? Almost a trough-style with the counters and sink all in one piece.”
“That would be very cool,” Claire says. “Hang on.” She rushes back out, stands in front of the big bulletin board with all our random inspiration, and then comes back in and sets photos and tiles in front of us.
“It’d be a splurge, but when I was in Scotland, I stayed at a beautiful inn that had this modern copper tub, lined with stainless steel.
We could add polished chrome fixtures. Wood paneling on the wall behind it maybe?
And look at these classic green-and-white marble floor tiles.
I was thinking we’d do them in a diamond checkered pattern. ”
“Yes to the tubs if we can get them in time,” Jadyn says with a grin.
“I love them, and the stainless steel interior is great for hygiene. Start with the tubs and the sinks and see what else you come up with.” She grabs the tiles and swaps their positions around the photo of the tub.
“What if, instead of wood on the wall, we use wood-looking tiles on the floor and do the marble tiles on the walls? Maybe mock it up both ways.”
Claire nods, looks excited, and quickly exits with the samples, eager to get started.
“You did a really nice job on this, Ainsley. Obviously, your uncle made sure you got this internship,” Jadyn says, tapping on my board, “but this design proves that’s not the only reason you were chosen.”
And I swear, I have a smile plastered on my face for the rest of the day.
I’m just getting home from the office when my phone buzzes. I smile as I see Damon’s adorable face on my screen.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says.
“Hey, you,” I reply, dropping my tote on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch, and putting my feet up.
“How was your day?” he asks.
“It was awesome. Jadyn loved my lobby design. Hang on. I’ll text you a picture of it.”
I do, and when he gets it, I watch him break out in a wide grin.
“This is amazing. The fireplace—is it copper? It’s so bold. How did you come up with something like that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just was inspired. It’s a weird combination of this town, its heritage, and my uncle Tripp.”
“You’re very creative. I’m impressed,” he says, but then his mouth forms a naughty smirk. “Although, if you’re alone, I know a way you could impress me more.”
“You go first,” I say, knowing exactly what he’s thinking.
He quickly pulls his shirt up over his head, revealing tan muscles.
Two can play at that game, I think, slowly unbuttoning my blouse.
“I miss you,” he says with a sigh.
“I miss you too. How was your night out with your teammates? We didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday.”
“It was pretty good. Last year, Treyvon and Chase were roommates. And it sounds like Treyvon partied a lot. Got a lot of girls. But apparently, Chase and I are a bad influence on him. He only had a couple of beers when we were out, is focused on eating healthy, and has started drinking hydrogen water for faster workout recovery.”
“And the girls?” I tease.
“Oh, he says that’s healthy for him,” Damon says with a laugh.
“And what about you?” I ask.
“What about me?” he wonders, legitimately looking confused. But then he goes, “You know I’m pretty strict with my diet.”
“I was referring to the girls. I’m sure there were some at the party.”
“There were, but—are you questioning things with us already?” he asks.
I shrug and bite my lower lip. Because I don’t know. Am I? Yes, kind of. Maybe. Sorta.
“Well, if you are, you shouldn’t be. And anytime you think otherwise, take a look at that bracelet on your wrist and know that whether I’m with you or not, you’re always wrapped up in my love.”
“Do you think it’s a little crazy that we fell in love in, like, twelve days?”
“Actually, it was just eight days when I told you I loved you. And don’t forget, you said it back,” he says seriously, pointing his finger in my direction.
“Is that better or worse?” I ask with a laugh while I’m shaking my head.
“Better or worse? Sounds like wedding vows to me. What do you think? Christmas wedding? Then you move to Lincoln with me and get a job here?”
My mouth drops open. Especially since I know what he’ll learn at Christmastime this year.
“Don’t worry,” he says with an adorable wink. “That wasn’t a proposal. You’ll know for sure when it is. And with that, I bid you adieu, Champ.”
“Good night, Damon.”
“Good night, my future wife.”
I hang up, then let out a contented sigh as I imagine a holiday wedding.
I think back to the New Year’s Eve party my parents had one year when I was still young enough to play with dolls.
Barbie and Ken got married under the sparkling gold decor, and Ken kissed the bride at midnight to the cheers of the partygoers.
It’s been my dream wedding ever since.