Fifteen
FIFTEEN
SOPHIE
L ast night’s dinner was a complete shitshow. We didn’t even make it to Monopoly. After the awkward argument—if you can even call it that—Liam thanked us for dinner and left. The sound of the door clicking shut hadn’t even faded before a wave of regret settled over me. My chest tightened, and a bitter taste filled my mouth as I replayed the night in my head, each moment more frustrating than the last. Thankfully, no tears fell. Explaining everything to Adeline would’ve just made the evening more challenging. We did, however, discuss it, and according to her, what happened was good. Now he knows. But, again, he doesn’t owe me anything. His focus is the hotel, and if two designers is what he needs, then I guess that’s how it’s going to be. My battle will be to reach the top. I need to be the best. I will be the best, and this is my project.
I replay the evening in my mind, every word and tense glance, wishing I had handled it differently—a little better, less petty, at least, so that today would be less awkward.
I’ve been standing in the lobby for a few minutes, my body not yet ready to face Liam…and Jared.
The elegant chandelier overhead casts a soft, golden glow, contrasting starkly with the turmoil churning inside me. My feet ache in my heels, and I shift my weight, trying to steady myself for the inevitable confrontation.
“Are you waiting for the chandelier to fall, or?” a voice breaks through my thoughts.
Brian is standing before me, a slight tug on the corner of his lips. His casual confidence is a welcome distraction that relaxes my body, allowing a little laugh to escape. “No, I’m just not ready to meet the guys yet.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Well, then you’re lucky. Jared is meeting me for a tour in a minute or so. So it’ll only be you and Liam for an hour.” Great .
“Speaking of the devil, there he is,” Brian says, nodding toward the entrance. The devil is the right word. I turn, and there is Jared, striding in with that annoying confidence that makes me grit my teeth. His eyes meet mine, his winning smile on display. I resist the urge to scoff, my patience wearing thin.
“Morning, Sophie,” Jared says, his voice filled with the same charm that once fooled me. “Always the early bird.”
I force a polite smile. “Morning, Jared. Welcome to the team.” The words taste sour on my tongue, but to my surprise, I manage to keep a sweet tone. Maybe I should get into acting. An Oscar would look good in my room.
Brian, the angel he is, steps in to save me from this agony. “Alright, Jared, let’s get you familiar with the place. Sophie, I’ll catch up with you and Liam in a bit—I’ll need your opinion on the Presidential Suit layout.”
I smile inwardly at his comment. He wants my opinion, not Jared’s. My opinion matters, not his. God, why am I like this? Who cares, it feels good.
Jared gives me one last lingering look before following Brian. I turn away, tense from the encounter, and find myself face-to-face with Liam. His expression remains stoic, but his eyes soften just enough to betray a flicker of concern. He’s wearing a simple white T-shirt that fits him perfectly, paired with dark jeans and black Ray-Bans, which are now casually hooked onto the collar of his shirt. It’s effortless for him—looking like he walked straight out of a magazine without even trying.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. He’s so close I can smell his cologne, fresh and woodsy, a scent that used to make me weak in the knees.
Who am I lying to? It still does. It’s a very sexy scent.
I nod a little too hard, trying to ignore the smell. “Yeah, let’s get to work.”
Liam’s attention lingers on me for a moment longer, his eyes searching mine as if trying to read something unspoken. Then, with a slight nod, his professional mask slips firmly back into place. “Alright, let’s go over the plans one more time.”
We move to the table where the blueprints are spread out, the enormity of the hotel project laid bare before us. Liam steps closer, his shoulder brushing mine, sending a flicker of warmth through me. I consider stepping back, but I don’t—I can’t. My pulse quickens, and one thought keeps circling in my head: is he going to mention yesterday?
“Do you think this layout will work with your ideas for the entrance?” he snaps me back to reality and I force myself to study the plans. The new revolving door is a focal point, but it might work in our favor with some minor adjustments. “I think this can be really good,” I say, pointing above the door, “but the lighting will need to be adjusted. Maybe if we add a transom window? With only the existing lights, it might be too dark for a welcoming atmosphere.”
Liam nods thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the blueprints with an intensity that makes me nervous. Does he not like the idea?
“Good point. A transom window will be perfect over the revolving doors. We’ll check with Brian to see if those changes can be added while still keeping to the timeline.”
As we continue working, the silence between us feels heavy, laden with all the things we're not saying. The soft rustle of papers fills the room, but it’s the faint sound of his breathing that keeps me aware of every inch of space between us. Every now and then, our hands brush against each other as we reach for the same pen or paper, and each time, a jolt of electricity shoots through me, making my breath hitch. The warmth of his skin lingers on mine, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it and keep my composure, focusing on the task at hand, but it's getting harder every minute. My resolve wavers, the memories of everything that has happened playing a tug-of-war with the pull I feel toward him now. I catch his gaze flicking toward me, just for a second, before he looks away. It’s a small crack in his armor, but it’s enough to make me pause. Remember everything that has happened. Be strong. Don't fall into this again. I remind myself, but even as I think it, I feel myself leaning into the warmth, the pull of him that feels impossible to resist. When our eyes meet again, I’m the first to look away, my breath faltering as I scramble to rebuild the walls I swore I wouldn’t let crumble.
Liam shifts closer, his shoulder brushing against mine in a way that feels both accidental and deliberate. The touch sends a jolt through me, but I keep my focus forward, pretending it doesn’t affect me.
“Soph,” he murmurs, his voice soft but tinged with something raw, something honest. “I wouldn’t have hired him if I knew. I swear.”
The sincerity in his words wraps around me, making my chest tighten as if it’s bracing for impact. I glance at him, and for a second, his expression unravels—shoulders slightly hunched, his jaw tight, his eyes searching mine. He looks like a man waiting for a storm he knows is inevitable.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reaches out, his fingers brushing my arm. The contact is featherlight, but it leaves a trail of warmth that lingers longer than it should. “Are we alright?” he asks, his voice dipping low, almost intimate.
His words hang in the air, the sincerity in his voice tugging at something deep inside me. I wasn’t expecting this—his guilt, his need for reassurance.
I hesitate, my thoughts spiraling. Of course, he wouldn’t have hired Jared if he knew. That much is clear. But what hurts isn’t just who he hired—it’s that he needed to hire someone at all. And that someone being Jared feels like the universe’s cruel joke. How can I explain the thoughts churning inside me? How can I tell him that just hearing Jared’s name drags up memories I’ve spent so much time burying?
I glance up, catching the intensity in Liam’s eyes. The concern etched in his features makes my chest tighten. Words falter on my tongue, replaced by the warmth of his presence, the way he’s waiting—hoping—for an answer.
So I nod. It’s small, almost imperceptible, but it’s enough to make his shoulders relax slightly, enough to ease the weight in his expression. I force a small smile, swallowing everything else I want to say. Because, for some reason, I don’t want him to know what happened. I’d feel like a failure, like I hadn’t lived up to what he always encouraged me to be—resilient, unstoppable. And here I am, faltering.
As much as I can’t stand Jared, I also don’t want to be the reason he loses his job. That would make me no better than him.
Before I can find the courage to say anything, Brian and Jared reappear, their presence slicing through the fragile moment like a blade
Jared’s eyes sweep over the plans, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Hmm, you need more spots for natural light. I’ve got a few ideas that could freshen things up, make it more modern.”
I can’t help but stiffen at the presumption, especially since he just joined the team.
Liam’s stare hardens, a flicker of something unreadable flashing behind his eyes. He leans forward, planting one hand on the table with practiced ease, but the way his fingers drum lightly against his leg betrays the tension simmering beneath the surface. Straightening, he adjusts his stance, shoulders squared, every inch of him radiating quiet authority.
“Sophie said the same thing about natural light,” he says, his voice calm but firm, like a verdict being handed down. He gestures toward the plans, his fingers brushing the edge of the paper with a measured precision that feels almost dismissive of Jared’s input. “She suggested a transom window. It’s a solid option.”
Jared glances at Liam. “Yeah,” his smirk widens slightly, “that’s one idea.”
What does he mean by that? It’s a great idea. With a transom window, we’ll keep the natural light and the elegance of Hotel Ayoub D’or.
Liam nods thoughtfully, maintaining a professional tone. “I like Sophie’s suggestion of the transom window; it’s a strong option. However, I’m always open to hearing any additional ideas you might have for other parts of the hotel, Jared.”
I snap my gaze to Liam so quickly I almost strain my neck. Did he just back me up? It takes a second to register, but yes—he shut Jared down, leaving no room for debate. Relief washes over me, mixed with a flicker of gratitude I can’t quite bring myself to show.
Jared’s smirk wavers as he absorbs Liam’s firm stance. “Alright, I’ll think about it. It’s good to know we’re all aiming for the same lighting goal.”
Take that, Jared. You’re not winning this time around.
“I have to go. I have a meeting,” Liam says, his voice carrying a note of finality. ”But let’s regroup in my office in two hours to review the updates. Sophie, if you could get Jared up to speed on the latest developments and the current plans, that would be great.”
I nod, trying to keep my face neutral despite rather wanting to run toward oncoming traffic. “Of course. We’ll go over everything in detail.”
Liam gives me a brief, reassuring nod before turning to leave.
Once he’s gone, I turn to Jared, who’s watching me with an unreadable expression. “Alright, let’s get started,” I say, trying to sound as composed as possible. “I’ll walk you through the plans and any key updates.”
Jared nods, but there’s a trace of that smirk still lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s do it over coffee. I haven’t had my first cup yet.”
I arch an eyebrow, momentarily thrown off by his casual request. “Sure, if you think it’ll help you stay sharp,” I reply, clipped but polite. “There’s a coffee shop just down the street. We can grab a cup and then dive into the details.”
Jared’s smile widens, and he gestures toward the door. “Lead the way.”
After going through all the updates and the ideas that have been decided upon–I’m not sharing anything that has not yet gotten a signature–Jared leans back in his chair, his third coffee in hand. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, a noticeable change from his usual confident demeanor. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat, a gesture that makes him look oddly awkward. This tall, demanding man suddenly seems out of place, like a lion hesitating before a leap. It’s strange to see him like this, and it piques my curiosity.
“Uh, so, Sophie,” he begins, his voice faltering slightly. He shifts in his chair again as if trying to find a more comfortable position–or it’s due to the amount of caffeine he’s inhaled in an hour. “I, uh, need to apologize for, well, for how things went down between us.”
Wait, what is happening?
I raise an eyebrow, trying to gauge his sincerity. I’ve never seen this side of Jared—awkward and stumbling. It’s unsettling yet oddly fascinating. “Apologize? For what, exactly?” I push, knowing very well what he should apologize for.
Jared runs a hand through his tousled hair, clearly uncomfortable. “For, you know, the whole misunderstanding about the project. It was a big deal, and I realize now it might have gone down a bit…unfairly.” He pauses as if searching for the right words but then continues, “I didn’t mean to undermine your work. It was an offer I had to take, but I understand it was a huge opportunity for you too. I guess I just want you to know it wasn’t personal.”
I blink at him, not knowing what to answer because there was no misunderstanding. The project was mine to lead. It was my one shot, and he blatantly took it–it wasn’t offered.
His attempt at an apology feels hollow, wrapped in excuses rather than genuine regret. He’s apologizing, but it’s clear he’s also trying to justify his actions. The “unfair” comment, the indirect acknowledgment of the impact on my career—it’s all too calculated.
I let out a breath, allowing my shoulders to relax. I’m not doing this today. If I get angry, it will all come back to bite me in the ass. I will look unprofessional. I will be the young woman who can’t handle her emotions, again. That will not happen. Because this time, I’m not allowing him to take anything from me. This project is my chance to make a name for myself and Jared doesn’t need to know how much I want it or how hard I’m willing to work for it.
So, I nod slowly, processing his words. “I appreciate the apology, Jared. It’s good to hear you recognize the situation. But it’s also important to remember that actions usually have consequences. Something to think about for the future. I’ve moved on, and all that matters now is what’s ahead.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he says, running a hand through his hair again as if the gesture might give him strength. “Look, I don’t mean to complicate things. I just want to make sure you know I respect you.”
What have I done to have to sit through this conversation? It can’t get worse than this.
“You know,” he says, his voice returning to his usually confident tone. “I’ve been thinking about how things went between us. We had a lot of fun, didn’t we? I mean, we were good together.”
Wrong. It just got worse.
His comment makes me almost recoil. We weren’t good together, there weren’t any fireworks. Most of our time was just physical. Just sex. On and off. Very on and off.
I was young, easily impressionable, and lonely. He was hot and we had some fun. That’s it. I try not to judge myself too harshly for my past dating history. You have to kiss some frogs to get to your prince. I’m sadly still in my frog era.
“Jared, let’s not bring up the past too much,” I say with a light awkward laugh.
He raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “I’m not suggesting we date again, but how about dinner this Saturday? Consider it my way of apologizing.”
“That’s not a good idea,” I reply, fidgeting with the spoon on the table.
Jared’s gaze doesn’t waver, his blue eyes locking onto mine with a challenging glint. “Just say yes, please. Saturday at eight. It’s just dinner.”
I study him, taking a moment to weigh his offer, and then, of course, my mind flies to another man who just made his way back into my life again. Would Liam react in any way?
Nope. We will not go down this road. If I agree, it’s because I want to move past this obstacle that is Jared and work together smoothly. Allowing him to apologize might make it easier for us, most importantly me. Also, I’d rather have him on my side than against me.
I sigh, resigning to the fact that this conversation isn’t going to end until I give him a response. “Alright, Saturday at eight. But it’s not a date.”