Thirteen
THIRTEEN
LIAM
PRESENT
I t’s been a week since Sophie had her tour of the hotel, and she’s been working tirelessly ever since. I’m not surprised, though, she’s always been ambitious and hardworking. Watching her work is something else entirely. There’s an intensity to her focus, the way she chews on the end of a pencil when she’s deep in thought, her eyes squinted in concentration. It’s a little quirk. When she gets excited about an idea she wants to share, her words tumble out in a rush. It’s almost like she’s painting a picture with every word, and I can’t help but be captivated. Every single idea of hers is impressive; the way she understands the project is exactly what we need. Which is why I’m starting to regret that interview I had last week.
It’s not that I need another designer—Sophie is fantastic. But there’s so much work to be done, it’s too much for a lone designer and I don’t want her to overwork herself. I don’t want her to burn out just when she’s about to hit the market as the best and most wanted designer in New York.
I sit at my desk, eyes drawn to the grandfather clock in the corner. The loud ticks echo my thoughts, heightening my anticipation for what’s to come. I don’t think she’ll be happy.
“Knock, knock. It’s me, your favorite person,” a recognizable voice calls, breaking through my thoughts. A wide smile spreads across my face as I look up.
“Addie!” I exclaim, standing and crossing the room to her. I scoop her up into a spin, her light and infectious laughter ringing out.
“Oh my God, I’m dizzy now.” She giggles as I set her down gently.
The sound of heels clicking against the wooden floor announces Lilly's rushed arrival. She’s slightly out of breath, her cheeks flushed. “I ran after her from the lobby,” she says, panting, “but she beat me. Sorry, sir. I’ll escort this strange woman out.” Adeline’s eyes flash with amusement, a knowing smile on her lips. “Like I told you, I don’t need an appointment with Mr. Ayoub, ” she says my name with a light tease in her tone, though her expression remains composed. However, I know Addie, so I quickly step in, recognizing the tension. “No one will be escorting anyone out. This is my good friend Adeline Karam.”
“How about you get us some coffee, Lilly? Please,” I suggest, trying to diffuse the awkwardness.
Lilly’s lips curl into a practiced smile as she glances back at me. “Of course, sir. An Americano, as usual, coming right up.” Her voice is smooth, almost honeyed, as if she’s savoring each word. She makes a point of lingering a moment longer than necessary. Adeline arches an eyebrow before she adds, “A dirty chai for me, and throw in a croissant, please.” Her tone is clipped as she watches Lilly with a look I can’t read.
Lilly pauses, glancing back with a forced smile, clearly not in the mood to bring Adeline a coffee. “Will do. Anything else?”
“Add a coffee for Sophie, too. She’ll join us soon,” Adeline says, glancing at me with a hint of curiosity.
Lilly’s smile tightens. “And what kind of coffee does Miss Anderson want?”
We simultaneously recite Sophie's oddly specific coffee order: “A latte with coconut milk, an extra espresso shot, one pump of sugar-free vanilla syrup, and a sprinkle of cinnamon.” Adeline gives me a quizzical look, probably curious about how I’ve memorized Sophie’s coffee order. But she doesn’t voice her curiosity; she smiles almost knowingly before turning her attention back to Lilly.
Lilly nods, jotting down the orders with an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll make sure to get it just right,” she says, her tone laced with thinly veiled disdain. Without waiting for a response, she spins on her heel and strides toward the door. She’s a bit dramatic, sure—but she’s good at her job, so I can’t exactly complain.
As the door swings shut behind her, I catch Adeline rolling her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Interesting choice of staff,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Then, leaning in closer, her eyes narrowing slightly, she adds, “You know she’s into you, right?”
The remark catches me off guard, and my brow furrows. “What? No, I don’t think?—”
Adeline cuts me off, her expression full of certainty. “Liam, come on. It’s obvious. The glances, the extra attention, the extra swaying of the hips. She’s not exactly subtle about it.”
I frown, her words replaying in my head. The swaying of the hips? I’d noticed it before but brushed it off as just her natural way of walking. Now, with Adeline pointing it out, I can’t help but question if I’d missed something obvious—or if I’m just that oblivious.
I shake my head, trying to dismiss the thought. “No, that’s not—it’s nothing. She’s just being friendly,” I say, though it sounds more like I’m trying to convince myself than Adeline.
Adeline just sighs. “Just be careful. There’s a vibe, and I don’t like it.”
I push her warning aside, shifting the conversation. “So, what brings you here today?”
Adeline's expression brightens. “Well, I haven't seen or heard from you since the club, so I thought, why not come by and invite you to dinner at our place tonight? It’s lasagna and game night.”
The thought of going to Sophie’s place makes my mind race with questions. Will she even want me there? What if it feels awkward, or worse, like I’m intruding?
Adeline senses my hesitation. Her lips curl slightly, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Why the hesitation? We both know you’ll come. This was more of a ‘hey, you are coming’ rather than a question.”
Her playful tone and confident demeanor make me chuckle, easing some tension and overthinking. It’s just dinner. And if Adeline is cooking, I’m in.
“Of course, I’ll come.”
“Great,” Adeline replies, her smile widening. “Be at our place at seven p.m.”
Before I can respond, the door opens, and Sophie walks in. She’s wearing a crisp white suit, her golden hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail that highlights her graceful features.
She looks composed and professional, yet there’s always a certain warmth about her.
Her eyes sparkle with curiosity as she looks between us. “What's happening at seven?”
Adeline turns to her with a grin. “Liam is joining us for lasagna and game night.”
Sophie pauses, her eyes flickering with surprise before she masks it behind a practiced smile. “How fun! You’ll love Addie’s lasagna.” She licks her lips, the quick, unconscious gesture betraying her nerves. “It’s the best.”
She’s nervous.
“I told the team to keep it fresh and light. Maybe have the walls of the breakfast area beige,” Sophie says, her voice muffled as she chews thoughtfully on the end of her pencil. She’s been doing this for the last fifteen minutes, clearly lost in thought about the planned color scheme for the larger spaces.
“Beige is such a dull color, though,” I respond with a teasing half-smile, enjoying the playful back-and-forth.
Sophie shoots me a look, mock annoyance dancing in her gaze as she pauses, her pencil resting between her lips. “Dull? Beige is classic and versatile. Besides, we’ll add some greenery. I’m thinking about Monstera plants to liven it up.” I’m not particularly invested in whether it’s beige or yellow, but I find the way she reacts amusing.
“They’ll look great next to the Swiss cheese,” I quip, trying to keep a straight face.
She laughs, a bright, melodious sound filling the room. “Well, as long as the plants don’t feel overshadowed by the real cheese, I think we’re good.”
This .
I’ve wanted banter and laughter without awkward tension hanging over us for the past two years. I know we might never reach my friendship level with Adeline, but I want Soph in my life. We were friends first, and that's something I hope we can return to. Preferably more than friends, but baby steps.
Just as I’m savoring this moment, a knock on the closed door interrupts, pulling us out of the bubble we’ve created. “Come in,” I call out, my tone sharper than I intended.
Lilly steps in, her expression neutral but her eyes hinting at something more. “Your four o'clock is here,” she announces.
Fuck. Not now. This is not the right time for this. Not at all.
“You can step right in,” Lilly continues, her voice tinged with a strange satisfaction. “He’s been expecting you.”
A tall man in a sharp blue suit steps into the office, portfolio in hand, exuding practiced confidence.
“Thank you, Lilly,” he says smoothly.
Sophie’s expression changes instantly. Her smile falters as she looks up and meets his gaze. “Jared?”
Jared . That’s his name. How does she know his name?
“Sophie,” he replies, his smile widening slightly.
Wait. Something is up. How does he know hers?
Confusion settles in, tightening my chest as I glance between them. There’s something here I’m not picking up on, something unspoken that doesn’t sit right. I’m not jealous—why would I be?—but there’s an itch of irritation just under my skin.
“Oh, you two know each other,” I say, aiming for casual, but it comes out flat. My gaze shifts to Sophie, her reaction not helping to ease the tension crawling up my spine. What is going on here? I’m not sure I like it.
I clear my throat, forcing my attention back to Jared. “Well, that makes things easier, I guess. Sophie, meet our new interior designer,” I say, the words clipped. Then, with a small, pointed smile, I add, “You’ll be working together on this project.”