I couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed because she’d bought furniture I’d never seen, spent thousands of dollars without discussing it, or was completely unconcerned about both. I decided to go with Option D, None of the Above.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m glad you took care of it.”
Part of me really was glad. I was so busy at work that I didn’t have time for anything else. Christy was a good partner at home, even if she didn’t have a firm grasp on the household finances.
“So, what’re you working on?” I asked.
“Nothing yet, Mr. Nosy Parker.” She turned and pushed me away from the garage. “Let’s open another bottle of wine. I saved you some dinner. The girls want some princess time before bed. After that, I need some time.”
“Oh?” I teased. “Do we need to look at furniture?”
“A certain bedpost, yes.”
* * *
Trip knocked on my office door about a week later. It was open, and he didn’t wait for an answer before he sank into the chair across from me. It was one of those conversations, so I saved my work and turned to face him.
“What’s up?” I said.
“I think you might be onto something with this tree-hugger nonsense.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “would you repeat that?”
“It’s a unique selling proposition, and we can use it to our advantage.”
He’d been calling me a tree-hugger for years, since before our Master’s degrees. He usually did it whenever I climbed onto my soapbox about the environment and sustainable design. He called me Mother Paul whenever I talked about social responsibility and architecture.
Part of me wanted to blame him for being an asshole, but he was mostly a reflection of the people around him. Harvard had been a hyper-competitive program, and his friends had been old-school capitalist types. The words “social” and “progressive” were anathema in any combination. Case in point, they thought Gordon Gekko was the hero of Wall Street, not the villain.
Fortunately, Trip knew me well enough to realize I’d eventually punch him in the face if he kept calling me a tree-hugger or Mother Paul. And I knew him well enough to stay off my soapbox when he was around. Our unspoken truce had kept the peace for years, although time away from Harvard had clearly changed him.
“Yeah, okay,” he conceded, “I might have been a jerk before, but I’m serious now. I think we can use it to differentiate ourselves from the competition.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, “then maybe you should stop calling it ‘nonsense.’”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll do better. So, tell me more about this green building thing.”
“That’s a pretty broad question. What ‘thing’ in particular?”
“Start at the top.”
“The Green Building Council?”
“Yeah. I need to be able to sell it. As far as I can tell, none of the big firms are doing it, so it gives us a huge competitive advantage.”
“Okay. Here goes…”
* * *
I didn’t think Trip was serious about selling our services as environmentally conscious architects, but he surprised me. He brought in more work over the next month than I thought possible, and almost all of it was green.
Even better, our new clients weren’t just people who wanted houses. We signed a contract to design a three-story office building for a health food company, and an outdoor equipment company wanted us to design a 23,000-square-foot store to anchor a new shopping center. We weren’t big enough to manage the construction as well, but it was a huge step in the right direction.
I worked eighty hours a week and still couldn’t keep up.
“Hire someone,” Trip said when I complained. “That’s your department, anyway. Personnel. You’re way better at it than I am.”
Oddly enough, it didn’t bother him that my people skills were better than his.
“Why can’t you help?” I argued.
“Hiring?”
“No, with the design. You still have your license.”
“Uh-uh. Division of labor. I hunt, you gather. Speaking of which, we need to go to Alabama. Can you fly us?”
“Alabama? What the hell for?”
“Country club. Oh, and what happened to that landscape architect I asked you about?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. “I’ve been working nonstop.”
“Well, find someone. We’ll need him in Alabama. Hustle up. Time is money.”
“Time is money,” I griped under my breath as I left his office. Still, I caught Shari’s eye on the way past her desk. “Grab your notepad.” I settled behind my own desk, and she sank into the chair opposite. “Sorry,” I said. “I should’ve said please.”
She smiled and nodded toward the wall that separated my office from Trip’s.
“Mmm,” I agreed.
“Anyway, what’s up, boss?”
I smiled at that. She never called Trip “boss.” He was always “Trip” or “Mr. Whitman,” depending on who she was talking to.
“You remember Whitney Arden?” I said without preamble, and Shari nodded. “Is she still with Barbara McKay?”
“I don’t know, but I can find out.” She made a note.
Whitney had been my last intern at Whitman-Hughes, and she had a mind for details. I’d sent her to Barbara to finish her internship. I’d even offered to pay her salary, but Barbara had found the money in her budget. Whitney would have her license by now, and I needed her organizational skills.
“On second thought,” I said, “just get me Barbara’s number, please.”
Barbara was a great architect, but she didn’t have Trip’s talent for business. I suspected she was still eking out a living, just like she’d been doing when I’d sent Whitney to her.
“You got it,” Shari said.
“We’re going to need an interior designer, too. I can do it myself, but…”
“You have bigger fish to fry.” She made a note. “I know someone. You’ll like her. She’s just your type.”
“Um…”
“Not like that,” Shari laughed easily. “I mean professionally. Besides, you aren’t…” She nodded again toward Trip’s office.
“No.”
I didn’t think Trip had ever slept with anyone who worked for us, but I wouldn’t have ruled it out. He wasn’t the type to cheat on Wren, either, but he probably wouldn’t consider it cheating if it only happened once.
Shari read my expression and nodded ruefully.
“Moving on,” I sighed. “Give me your friend’s name. That’ll take care of the interiors. Now, let’s talk about a structural engineer. Do you know anyone?”
“A few,” she said as she wrote, “but I’m not sure how happy they are where they are. I’ll ask around. We might have to put ads in the paper.” She lifted her pen and studied me for a moment. “Do we have the money for all this hiring?”
“We should,” I hedged, “but that’s Trip’s department. I’ll need to talk to him about salaries. We have money in the bank, but…”
“We don’t have the cash flow yet,” she finished.
“Exactly. Anyway, I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, let’s keep going. What happened to that landscape guy? Drake something?”
“Robert Drake. Goes by Bob.”
“Can you call him? Tell him I’m sorry I didn’t get back to him sooner.”
“No problem. I’ll handle it.”
“Also, let’s find someone to take over the phones and front desk.”
Shari raised an eyebrow.
“You have more important things to do.”
“Such as?” She grinned. She was enjoying herself.
“Being a real office manager, not just a glorified receptionist. First things first, though. If we hire all these people…”
“We’re going to need a bigger office. I’ll talk to the landlord. The space next door is available.”
“Okay. Thanks. What else?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Let me start making calls.”