must have worked for days on this.”
“Just the weekend,” she said, keeping to herself the number of hours she’d put in. Unfortunately, she yawned at that moment, putting her hand up to stifle it and hoping he didn’t see it.
David turned the model around, perusing it from every angle. He stooped down, leveling his eye with the model.
“This is beautiful. You should have told me you were an artist.”
He glanced at Rose and she smiled, yet she didn’t want to be complimented on the art. She wanted him to like the layout, approve the design and at least let some of it be used.
“If I approve this, do you think, among your duties, you can work with the designers to implement it?”
Rose blinked, unsure of what she’d inferred.
“Are you giving me approval?” Her voice was more tentative than she would have liked it to be.
“Not yet.” He shook his head. “Email me a copy of the proposal and I’ll present it to the Board and get back to you.”
Rose’s face fell, but she quickly lifted her chin and looked David square in the eye. She knew what his comment meant. He needed time to find a reason to reject it. She knew it was good—better than good—but it wasn’t created by the House of Thorn or any of their agents.
“Don’t get me wrong, Rosanna. It’s a great design.”
Rose nodded absently. “What about the designers?”
“I wish I’d met you before I hired them. I could have saved the family a lot of money.”
Rose smiled for real then.
“One thing,” he said.
She froze, feeling like “here it comes.”
“The outside of the building.”
“Yes?” she prompted.
“Because of the previous storms, we’ve committed to shoring up the foundation. The windows are made of special glass that can resist hurricane-force winds. The building, while it will have the look of the other Thorn stores, will be different than what you have here.”
Rose nodded. “That sounds like a good thing.”
“And the lettering of the logo.” He put his finger on the word Thorn’s.
Rose smiled. “I couldn’t find the right font.”
“I’ll have to pass this by the board, my family, and see what they think,” he repeated.
Rose’s heart hammered and her face burned as if she was on a hot beach, but she was pragmatic. Board, she thought. Even if they were his family, they would never approve a project already in progress, one they’d laid out money for a team of designers to complete. She’d been excited for a moment, but now she knew she didn’t stand a chance. It didn’t matter that hers was better, she’d wasted time and energy thinking David would even seriously consider it. Still, in the back of her mind, she held out a tiny amount of hope.
“I can fix that logo before you go if you know the font name,” she said evenly.
“I’ll find out and let you know.”
He stood up from his crouched position.
“Good job, Rosanna.”
“Rose,” she said. “My friends call me Rose.”
“Rose,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to roar in her mind.
* * *
The benefit of the doubt. Rose heard a message her father used to give her when she was young and he’d take her to his office. When there was a problem related to people, he advised her to always give them the benefit that they might be right, or at least have a viable reason for whatever the issue was.
So she was going to believe that David had given her proposal its due when he presented it to the board.
Rose yawned. It has been a long weekend. Blinking, she tried to focus on the task list that appeared to grow with each ticking minute. Getting up, she headed for the kitchenette. She poured what had to be her hundredth cup of coffee in the last seventy-two hours. When she returned there was a note on her desk.
She picked up the white piece of paper and read out loud the three words on it.
“Go for it.”
With the paper still in her hand, she went into David’s office. She needed to know what it meant. It had only been an hour since she’d finished presenting. How could he have called a meeting, even if it was with family, and have a decision this fast?
“What does this mean?” Rose asked, extending her hand with the note in it.
David smiled. “You have a go.”
Rose said nothing for a moment. She was stunned.
“H-how?” she stammered. “I mean when? There wasn’t enough time.” She stopped because she was rambling. Her mind was rambling.
“I called the board. Or rather I emailed them. They said any changes I wanted to make were my decision.”
Rose’s mouth dropped open as the full impact of what she was hearing processed in her brain. Clamping her hand over her mouth, Rose kept herself from screaming.
“I can see that makes you happy,” David said. “Your eyes are as bright as the sun.”
Rose stifled a laugh. It came out as almost a sneeze.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“No need. I know exactly how you feel.”
Rose nodded and as she headed toward her office, she knew he couldn’t possibly understand how she felt. She stopped and looked at the ceiling, but she was really looking to the heavens. Closing her eyes, she whispered a prayer. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said.
Standing there for several seconds, she thought about David. He wasn’t as bad as she initially thought. Maybe it was his family and not him who’d bought Bach’s. That thought brought her out of her reverie and she moved.
She should have been riding on air. David had just given her the go-ahead, but she’d been living on adrenaline and coffee for a few days. Returning to her office, she sat down and suddenly a long weekend of pushing herself to create and finish in time to present her ideas slammed into her like a sprinting runner bent on getting to the front of the pack.
At her desk, she rested her head and closed her eyes a moment. Sleep stole over her in seconds...
Her chair slid backward, crashing against the wall and jerking her awake.
David yanked her door open and rushed inside.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.
Rose was still trying to get her bearings and didn’t immediately focus on him. So she was unprepared when he pulled her chair around and went down on one knee so he was level with her.
Rose tried to keep the distress from her face, but she was too tired.
“I’m all right,” she said. “Just a little tired.”
“You’re going home,” David announced. His don’t-argue-with-me voice penetrated her mind, but she ignored it.
Pushing back, she said, “I don’t need to go home. I have a ton of things to do and with the addition of the—”
“Every one of them can wait until tomorrow. You’ve worked the entire weekend, night and day, it appears, so you’re going home.”
Rose accepted the argument. The thought of taking a nap seemed like the best idea in the world. But she didn’t want him to think she was incapable of handling her responsibilities.