The Man Who Hated Everyone
Chapter 1 - Move.
The first thing I learned about Adrian Vale was that he was an asshole.
Technically, that wasn't the first thing I knew about him.
I'd worked at Vale Architecture for almost a year. Of course I knew who Adrian Vale was.
Everyone did.
Founder.
CEO.
Architect.
Thirty-eight.
Terrifying.
And so ridiculously handsome that it felt almost insulting.
I'd seen him around the office plenty of times. Usually from a distance, which was exactly where I preferred him.
His office sat beyond our section, behind a wall of glass. I could see it from my desk if I looked, but there was rarely a reason to. He only came through our area when he actually needed something.
Three or four sightings on an average day.
A dark suit disappearing into a conference room.
A tall figure speaking to one of the project managers.
Dark brown hair.
Broad shoulders.
A face that looked like somebody had spent an unreasonable amount of time designing it and then forgotten to give it a pleasant personality.
He didn't stop to chat.
He didn't join people for lunch.
He didn't stand around the coffee machine discussing weekends.
He came.
He did whatever he'd come to do.
He left.
Which worked wonderfully for me.
Because Adrian Vale scared the shit out of me.
I'd successfully gone almost an entire year without speaking to him.
I didn't know whether he knew my name.
I wasn't entirely convinced he knew I existed.
And I had absolutely no desire to find out.
Until Tuesday morning.
"Move."
I looked up from the folder in my hand.
Oh.
Shit.
Adrian Vale stood directly in front of me.
Apparently, God had decided I'd been getting a little too comfortable.
Up close, he was somehow worse.
Six feet of perfectly pressed white shirt, dark tie, and controlled irritation.
His hair was thicker than I'd realized, dark brown, nearly black and mostly straight, with enough natural texture that a piece had fallen loosely toward his forehead.
And his eyes-
Blue.
Deep blue.
I'd never been close enough to notice.
That seemed unnecessary.
"Excuse me?"
"You're blocking the cabinet."
I looked behind myself.
I was.
"Oh."
I moved.
He stepped forward without another word.
No please.
No acknowledgment.
Nothing.
I should have left.
I really, really should have left.
Instead-
"There are approximately seventeen nicer ways you could've said that."
His hand stopped on the cabinet handle.
Fuck my mouth.
Slowly, he looked at me.
"What?"
"I said there are approximately seventeen nicer ways you could've asked me to move."
"I wasn't looking for one."
Wow.
He opened the cabinet.
For one ridiculous second, he was close enough that I caught the faint scent of cedar and something rich and expensive.
Of course he smelled good.
God had clearly given this man everything except manners.
I stepped farther away.
"Wow."
He glanced at me.
"What?"
"Nothing. I'm just impressed."
"By?"
"You've apparently survived this long with that personality."
Silence.
My soul left my body.
There were moments in life when you knew, with absolute certainty, that you'd made a mistake.
This was one of them.
His deep blue eyes settled fully on my face.
Then dropped briefly to the ID badge clipped at my waist.
Back to me.
"Ms. Stone."
Oh, shit.
"Yes?"
"Do you make a habit of insulting your CEO?"
"No."
A beat.
"First time."
"Keep it that way."
He took the folder he wanted, shut the cabinet and walked away.
I stared after him.
Well.
There went eleven months and three weeks of successfully avoiding Adrian Vale.
"YOU SAID WHAT?"
"Could you announce it to the entire building? I don't think the people downstairs heard you."
Maya stared at me across the desk.
Beside her, Ben slowly lowered his coffee.
"You told Adrian Vale," he said, "that you're surprised he's survived this long with his personality."
"I didn't use those exact words."
Maya blinked.
"What did you say?"
I paused.
"Those exact words."
"Angel."
"I panicked."
"You insult people when you panic?"
"Apparently."
"Did he fire you?"
"Not yet."
Ben looked toward the corridor.
"Give him time."
"Very supportive. Thank you."
Maya leaned closer.
"Okay, important question."
"What?"
"Was he hot up close?"
I glared at her.
She gasped.
"Oh my God. He was."
"That's not relevant."
"That's a yes."
"I already knew he was handsome."
"No, no. There's across-the-office handsome and then there's standing-right-in-front-of-you handsome."
Unfortunately, there was.
"His eyes are blue."
Ben frowned.
"You didn't know that?"
"No."
"How?"
"Because I don't spend my working hours staring into the CEO's eyes, Ben."
Maya sighed dreamily.
"I'd make time."
"You're both deeply unwell."
I turned back to my monitor.
For the next hour, I managed to convince myself the incident was over.
Adrian had needed a folder.
I'd been in his way.
My mouth had briefly attempted to destroy my career.
He'd left.
Done.
We could return to our previous arrangement.
Adrian Vale existed on one side of the building.
I existed on the other.
Preferably forever.
At ten seventeen, my project manager appeared beside my desk.
"Angel?"
"Yeah?"
"Conference room three. Ten minutes."
I looked up.
"For what?"
"Solara."
That got my attention.
Solara was a luxury waterfront hotel planned for Miami, and one of the biggest projects Vale Architecture had landed that year.
I'd joined the design team three days ago.
"What happened?"
"Client moved up the concept review."
"To today?"
"Yep."
"Okay."
He started away.
Then stopped.
"Vale's sitting in."
My fingers froze over my keyboard.
"Vale?"
He gave me a look.
"Adrian."
I knew which fucking Vale.
"Why?"
"Client requested him."
Of course they did.
He walked away.
I stared at my screen.
Slowly, Maya's head appeared above the partition.
"No."
"Yes."
Her eyes widened.
"No."
"Yes."
Ben rolled backward into view.
"What?"
Maya pointed at me.
"She's seeing her boyfriend again."
"He's not my boyfriend."
"Your new best friend?"
"I hate you."
"Not as much as he does."
I grabbed my notebook.
"I hope both of you choke."
At ten twenty-nine, I walked into conference room three determined to behave like an adult.
A professional adult.
A professional adult who had absolutely never criticized the CEO's personality to his face.
There were eight people around the table.
Adrian wasn't one of them.
Thank God.
I took a seat beside Maya and opened my laptop.
At ten thirty-one, the door opened.
Adrian walked in.
Nobody stopped talking.
But somehow everyone talked quieter.
He wore a dark suit jacket now.
Same white shirt.
Same tie.
Same unnecessarily blue eyes.
He took the empty chair at the head of the table.
His gaze moved briefly around the room.
If he noticed me, he gave absolutely no indication.
"Let's begin."
That was it.
Fine.
Perfect.
I could do this.
For the next fifteen minutes, I barely spoke.
Our project lead walked through the client's updated requirements while Adrian listened, occasionally making notes.
He didn't interrupt.
He didn't insult anybody.
He didn't tell anyone to move.
Apparently, basic civilization was within his skill set.
Good to know.
Then the preliminary western fa?ade appeared on the screen.
My work.
I sat a little straighter.
Adrian studied it.
"Who designed this?"
Our project lead looked toward me.
"Angelica."
Adrian's eyes followed.
"Ms. Stone."
Apparently Angelica had been immediately rejected.
"Yes?"
"Walk me through it."
I explained the concept.
The vertical shading system. The recessed glazing. The balance between controlling Miami's western sun and preserving the waterfront views.
He listened without saying anything.
When I finished, he looked back at the screen.
"Too heavy."
I waited.
Nothing else came.
"The client asked for stronger solar control on the western elevation."
"I know what the client asked for."
Right.
Of course he did.
"The fins provide that without significantly compromising the views."
"They also dominate the fa?ade."
"They're preliminary."
"I can see that."
My fingers tightened around my pen.
I smiled instead.
"What direction would you prefer?"
"Reduce the visual weight."
"Without reducing the shading performance?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
"Three alternatives."
I nodded.
"When do you need them?"
"Tomorrow. Eight."
I looked at him.
"Tomorrow?"
His eyes shifted to mine.
"Is there an echo in here?"
Maya's shoe touched mine under the table.
Don't.
I smiled.
"Eight is perfect."
"Good."
It was not perfect.
It was bullshit.
But bullshit delivered by the founder and CEO was apparently called a deadline.
At twelve forty-five, I was standing beside the large-format printer waiting for a structural set when I heard-
"Ms. Stone."
My shoulders almost dropped.
Almost.
I turned.
Adrian.
Again.
Apparently eleven months of peace had created some kind of karmic debt, and Tuesday was collection day.
"Yes, Mr. Vale?"
"The Solara structural set."
I glanced at the printer.
Still going.
"It's printing."
"I can see that."
Naturally.
We stood there.
I wasn't sure what he expected me to do.
Encourage it?
Threaten it?
Offer it a performance bonus?
The last sheet finally came through.
I collected the set and straightened the pages.
Adrian held out his hand.
No words.
Just his hand.
I looked at it.
Then at him.
Then placed the drawings into it.
He glanced at the first sheet and turned away.
That was it.
I watched him walk down the corridor.
"You're welcome," I muttered.
He kept walking.
Asshole.
At three sixteen, I was halfway through the second fa?ade alternative when a drawing landed on my desk.
I jumped.
Adrian stood beside me.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
I looked at the drawing.
Then at him.
"Yes?"
"What is this?"
"My fa?ade study."
"I know what it is."
I waited.
His jaw tightened.
"This isn't what I asked for."
"You asked for three alternatives by eight tomorrow."
"Correct."
"And I'm working on them."
"Then why was this sent to me?"
I frowned.
"Sent to you?"
"This was on my desk."
"I didn't send it."
"Your name is on it."
"Because I drew it."
His expression hardened.
"That wasn't my question."
I could feel people around us getting quieter.
"I didn't send it to you."
"Then who did?"
"I don't know."
His voice rose.
"Why don't you know?"
My stomach tightened.
Oh.
I'd heard him angry before.
Everyone had.
A sharp voice carrying from a conference room.
A door closing harder than necessary.
Someone emerging ten minutes later looking like they'd reconsidered their career.
I'd never been standing on the receiving end of it.
Until now.
"I've been at my desk working," I said carefully. "I didn't know anyone had circulated it."
"Well, you should!"
His voice cracked across our section.
Conversations died.
My face heated.
I hated that.
I hated even more that he could probably see it.
"If your name is on something being circulated for one of my projects, you should know what version is going out!"
I swallowed.
"It's an internal working study."
"I can see that, Ms. Stone!"
There was absolutely no reason for him to be yelling at me.
But there were approximately several thousand reasons for me not to yell back.
Starting with rent.
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"Yes."
"Because I'm not interested in reviewing half-finished work."
"Neither am I."
His eyes narrowed.
"What?"
Shit.
I kept my voice level.
"I said I wasn't intending for you to review it yet."
"Then make sure unfinished work doesn't reach my desk."
"I will."
"And I want all three alternatives at eight."
"Yes, Mr. Vale."
He stared at me for another second.
Then turned.
I looked down at the drawing.
There was a red note in the corner.
Helpful.
Very detailed.
A true masterclass in architectural criticism.
I picked up my pen.
"Ms. Stone."
I looked up.
Adrian had stopped several feet away.
"Yes?"
"Not eight-oh-five."
I stared at him.
"Would eight-oh-four be acceptable?"
Silence.
Oh, shit.
His expression darkened.
"Eight."
I smiled.
"Eight."
He walked away.
I waited until he disappeared around the corner.
Then very quietly-
"Dick."
Maya's chair rolled toward me immediately.
Ben's followed.
"You're alive," Maya whispered.
"Unfortunately."
Ben looked toward the corridor.
"Angel."
"What?"
"I think he hates you."
I looked at the red note again.
One year.
I'd worked at Vale Architecture for almost an entire year without having a single conversation with Adrian Vale.
One beautiful, peaceful year.
And somehow, in less than six hours, he'd told me to move, criticized my work, given me a ridiculous deadline, summoned me every time I got within fifty feet of a printer, and screamed at me in front of half the office.
I picked up my pen.
"Yeah."
I crossed out one of my dimensions harder than necessary.
"I think I hate him too."
And the worst part?
I had to see him again at eight tomorrow morning.