Chapter Four #2
Nate shrugged in a way that communicated the opposite of doubt. “Don’t listen to me, go for it. Fortune favors the bold.” He took a bite of cupcake. “Found these in the breakroom if you want one.”
She waved him off, though she suddenly felt low-sugar.
Nate pointed back to her laptop with some icing on his lip. “Lead with the lobby images. They have a wow factor, a real signature. You’re talented, Iris. If Wolff’s open to the idea, that’s the moment he buys in. Men are visual.”
Iris nodded.
Her cellphone vibrated on her desk. “Excuse me, I have to take this.”
Nate indicated that she should, and she mouthed “Thank you.” Iris waited until he was back at his desk, out of earshot, to answer it. “He-eyyy,” she said, grinning at what she knew was coming.
“Hap-py birthday to-oo ya’aah! Hap-py bi-irthday…
” It was Roman, singing his annual rendition of the Stevie Wonder birthday song.
Roman was her other best friend; they’d met a decade ago when they were both baby designers, Iris in lighting and him in interiors, though he’d since become a real estate agent.
Iris laughed. “Thank you, baby.”
“I hope my singing softens the blow, because I have bad news. I can’t make your birthday dinner tonight! I’m sorry!”
“Oh no!”
“I know. You know I wouldn’t miss it if it weren’t major, but did you hear about that gas explosion in the Hendricks Houses projects a few days ago?”
“Yes, just reading about it gave me a nightmare. Two people died, right? Awful.”
“Well, James”—James was Roman’s live-in boyfriend—“James’s sister and her kids live there, or they did. His niece and nephew were home alone when it happened.”
“Omigod! Are they okay?”
“Yes, thankfully. His niece Kiara actually smelled it and got other people to evacuate in time.”
Iris gasped.
“But that’s not even all. So the New York housing authority is providing the displaced residents with emergency housing, except Veronica and her kids don’t qualify, because she’s been in some eviction dispute and now they’re using this to push her out.
It’s a mess. So they’re currently crashing with us. ”
“Aw, that’s terrible. But it’s nice of you and James to help.”
“It’s a whole thing, I’ll tell you about it when I see you. But today, I gotta help them get settled. Would you hate me if I missed dinner tonight with you and Hannah?”
“Oh no, I completely understand. Can I do anything to help?”
“No, James and I got it. We might need an extra pair of hands when they allow them to go back to the building to get their stuff, but it’s all shut down for the explosion investigation right now.”
“Okay yeah, let me know.”
“Anyway, I’m sorry to miss your birthday celebration. I was dying for a martini and that ricotta cheesecake. But we’re still on for the Kusama exhibit, right? We’ll celebrate then.”
Iris replied, “Yes, don’t worry about tonight. Go, be a good boyfriend!”
“ I’m trying! Happy birthday!”
Iris hung up and looked at the clock. It was just about time for her much-anticipated meeting with Frank to ask for a promotion.
Iris had requested the meeting, drafting and redrafting the email, letting it marinate in her Drafts folder before she hit Send last week.
She reminded herself she deserved this promotion.
She had been courted by other firms, but she had stayed loyal, and paid her dues twice over. It was only fair.
Frank had the only private office on the team, and the door was shut. Iris knocked, no answer, but she could hear a rhythmic thumping and whirring sound. She knocked again, louder.
“Come in!”
She entered and found Frank in a tight tank and bike shorts, legs spinning atop the Peloton beside his desk, pumping along to Bruce Springsteen music and a chirpy woman’s voice. The room smelled ripe. “I’m sorry, should I come back in a bit?”
“Nah, it’s fine. I was in the cool-down anyway.
Please, sit.” He lifted his rimless glasses and wiped his face with a hand towel.
“This was my only hour to get this in today. I’m training for the Labor Day centennial ride.
Madison here is very encouraging.” He gestured to the tiny blonde onscreen before finally muting her whoops of affirmation.
Iris took a seat in the chair opposite his desk and swiveled it to face him, albeit awkwardly lower than his perch on the bike. “A hundred miles, that’s very impressive.”
“At my age, just trying to stave off death.” Frank was in his sixties with close-cropped silver hair and a short, wiry physique.
He slipped his feet from the cycling shoes, hopped off, and began to stretch his quads in his sweat socks.
“Before you say anything, let me go first. I have something for you.”
Iris’s heart leaped at the potential reprieve from asserting herself.
Frank swung his leg high on the seat to get his hamstrings and pointed behind his desk. “See there, on the floor, the pink bag? That’s for you.”
She retrieved the gift bag herself and opened it. “A candle.”
“Happy birthday! It’s scented. Aromatherapy. Susan picked it, so you know it’s good.”
Her shoulders sank. Frank had been like a father figure to her ever since he took her under his wing just a few years after grad school, but she wished that today he was thinking of her professionally, not personally.
Still, it was kind that he remembered her birthday, she scolded herself.
Iris gave the candle a sniff. “Mmm, lavender. Thank you so much, and thank Susan, too.”
“You should thank yourself. You put everyone’s birthdays into the GoogleCal.”
“Oh, right. Ha.” She had done that a couple of years ago so that someone other than her would think to bring in treats on birthdays, and so that Frank might notice that Jesse was always suspiciously “sick” the day after his. Neither wish was achieved.
At last Frank sat at his desk. “So what’s up?”
“Well, I was just wondering if we could revisit a discussion we had a while back, about my role here, and the possibility of having the opportunity to advance into more of a leadership role here.” Damn, and she’d had it so succinct in her bathroom mirror.
“Ah yes, the promotion.” Frank tented his fingers. “Here’s the deal. You’re terrific. You’re a workhorse, and you care about this firm as much as anyone here except me.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re dependable and consistent. You have good taste, your ideas fit the budgets, I can trust you not to screw up, which is more than I can say for some of these yahoos.
” He gestured to outside his office. “You’re a good influence on the guys.
It’s impolitic to say, but the truth is, sometimes men need a woman in the room to behave themselves. ”
“They’re old enough not to need a babysitter.”
“Of course you’re right, I should give them more credit.”
That wasn’t what Iris meant.
Frank leaned forward in his chair. “There’s a thing in cycling called drafting.
In cycling racing teams, they ride in a line to minimize drag.
You have a great rider in the front of the pack, and other riders can draft behind him, literally using him as a shield against the air resistance, and they all take turns being the lead.
Drafting lets the whole group go faster while conserving energy overall.
You’ve been at the head of the pack, grinding it out to the benefit of the whole.
Rest assured, I see you, I appreciate you. But I need you there.”
“In the lead?” Iris said, hopefully.
“At the head. See, if I pull you out of the pack, move you up and on your own, that group benefit is lost. They’ll have no one to set pace.”
“Won’t it make space for a new person to go to the front of the pack? Nate’s good.”
“Nate does his own thing, he may not stick around. And the rest of the group is still maturing. I feel like we’re on the cusp as a company, I don’t want to throw off the team dynamic right now.”
“Well, we forwent the bonuses the last few years, which I understood, but I really think based on my time and effort, I feel like I’ve earned, well, I’d like to be considered for a raise.”
“Everyone at the same level gets equal pay, only fair.”
“But I’ve been at this level the longest, and like you said, they’re drafting behind me, so—”
“Seniority isn’t the only factor. You can’t expect to advance by simply waiting it out, this isn’t a royal engagement.”
Iris winced.
“Listen, I feel your frustration, but it’s nuanced. The person at the front is putting in slightly more effort than those drafting behind, but he— or she— isn’t actually faster. He isn’t a better rider, necessarily. You’re in the lead but not yet a leader, that’s the difference.”
Her face flushed, but Frank barreled on.
“We’ve got some people here who aren’t as disciplined as you, but they have other strengths, like creativity, initiative, balls—figuratively speaking.
I think those are areas you have room to grow.
But the road doesn’t rise to meet us, Iris.
I need to see more from you first, then we can revisit promotion. Fair enough, kiddo?”
Iris nodded, her mouth dry with disappointment.
“That said, if you’re looking for an opportunity, Wolff Dev looking for a new lighting team is huge.
If we win this bid, and it’s a big if, it would be a game changer for Candela.
I’d need to rely heavily on our lead designer for the project, a big effort for a bigger reward.
Today we have our in-house meeting to brainstorm pitches and decide who I’ll take with me to Wolff.
Put your best ideas forward. If you were the one to win this contract for us, that would certainly warrant a promotion. So, impress me this afternoon.”
Fresh hope hit her like caffeine; she’d been pouring in time on her idea for the Wolff redesign for weeks. “I will. You’ll see.”
She exited Frank’s office to see Max shoot a wadded-up piece of paper toward the waste bin across the room and miss, it landed on the floor. Jesse booed him. Ana, passing nearby, bent to pick it up.
“Oh, there’s Ana—Ana!” Max beckoned her over. “ Mamacita , will you do me a favor, por favor ?”
“Yes, Mr. Gelman.”
“Can you see if we have any Advil or headache medicine in the breakroom or somewhere?”
“I have some in my bag.”
“Ohhh!” the frat burst into laughter and jeers.
Ana smiled despite not being in on the joke. “I get it for you, one minute.”
Iris hated them.
—
Later that afternoon, they all gathered in the conference room. Iris put the box of cupcakes in the center of the table and set up her laptop next to Frank.
Frank clapped his hands to open the meeting.
“As you know, construction on Wolff Dev’s latest luxury building, Oasys at 270 Eleventh Ave, has been on pause as they reconceptualize the design.
The previous lighting design plans are incompatible with new layouts and with the new air filtration system, and apparently Wolff has soured on Lumi, so they won’t be working with them for the renovation.
That means we are getting a second chance at this project.
This is a big fish for us, but I believe our team can do it and pave the way for future growth.
I want to put in a bid as soon as possible.
But I can’t take you all with me to pitch Jonathan Wolff, so first you need to pitch your idea to me, and we’ll see who will take the lead alongside me. ”
Max started talking first. “I think they could allow more natural light by incorporating Japanese-style screen doors made with frosted glass—”
“Frosted glass?” Frank made a face. “Dated. People don’t want to live in a giant bathroom. Think bigger.”
Iris raised her hand.
But Lawrence jumped in, “We keep thinking of the way the light tracking has to avoid the air filtration system, framing them as oppositional systems trying to occupy the same space in the structure. But what if we could combine them and kill two birds with one stone?”
Frank looked interested. “You came up with a plan to combine them?”
“No. Not yet, but—”
“It’s a good idea, but the whole challenge is the execution. See what you can work up for me by Friday. Does anyone else have an idea like that, big picture, ready to go now ?”
Iris raised her hand again but Frank was looking the other way.
“Indigo clean,” Nate said.
Iris’s head snapped in his direction.
“It’s light that actually disinfects the air.
The optical and sanitizing effect are unobtrusive, we can direct it above the sight lines.
It’s high tech, it’s tied to wellness, it’s a new angle.
Wolff needs a fresh take if he’s going to stand out in this buyer’s market.
Getting an official designation as a ‘wellness residence’ could do just that. ”
“It’s gimmick,” muttered Theo.
“It’s a hook . A wellness residence. Exceeding clean living standards. And indigo clean lighting actually works, and it’s cheaper than HVAC.”
“That’s a very interesting idea,” Frank said.
“Iris gave it to me. I made a joke about Gwyneth Paltrow’s company Goop, and she rightly chided me for it, saying that wellness is a multi-billion-dollar industry.
Sure, it’s typically marketed at women, but everyone should sit up and listen, unless they want to leave money on the table.
There’s no reason that value shouldn’t extend into real estate, and women have a lot of influence over real estate decisions.
If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy, amirite? ”
The men at the table laughed.
Jesse tapped her shoulder. “Hey, pass me a cupcake?”
—
Iris caught up to Nate as soon as the meeting let out. “Nate, what was that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Indigo clean? You pitched my wellness concept.”
He frowned like he was totally puzzled. “Wait, you’re not mad, are you? I mean, c’mon, I credited you! I literally said you gave me the idea.”
“You credited me with defending Goop, but you passed the design concept off as your own.”
“Whoa.” Nate put his hands up as if she had a gun.
“I really think you’re overreacting. It came up!
Frank was pushing us for more ideas in the meeting, and I thought of our conversation.
I mean, I’m sorry if you felt like I stole your thunder or something, but I didn’t want to let the moment pass.
Why didn’t you say something in the meeting? ”
“I was so surprised to hear you saying it, I couldn’t react fast enough.”
“I wish you had, I was all alone in there. But look, no worries.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “I got you. We’re a team. We’re trying to come up with the best pitch for the firm to win the bid. I really thought you’d be happy. Frank loved our idea, I think he’s gonna go with it.”
Iris exhaled in a mirthless chuckle. Our idea. But Nate was right about one thing.
Her moment had passed.