Chapter 8

He smells good, like summer rain and open meadows, and I have no idea if it’s cologne or fabric softener. I try to make myself listen to him tell me his ideas, to watch as he points out the sketches and the notes he’s made, and I smile and nod at him when he asks me if that’s what I had in mind.

“Yeah, this looks good.”

He smiles. I can see his shoulders loosening and the muscles softening in his jaw, and as I watch it happen, I can feel my own body follow suit. Then I have to remind myself to stopnodding so he doesn’t begin referring to me as a my-boss-the-bobble-head behind my back. “It’s really good,” I tell him, and out of nowhere I start gushing over what he’s done. “I like it. A lot. Smart. Professional. Concise. Good design plan. Simple but detailed. Yep, it’s good. That’s definitely going to work.”