Relative Design

Anabel turned at the sound of her name, blinking when she saw her parents standing several feet behind her. “Oh. Hi.”

“When did you get home? Eliza mentioned that you were back and that you’d call us.”

“She did? I mean—” She broke off as her mother stepped to her and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh. Okay.”

“We could get dinner if you’re available,” her father said, also hugging her once his wife had released her hold on her.

Dinner? What? “Well, I—yes, sure.”

“You look just lovely,” her mother said, smiling brightly at her. Her smile was soft, her eyes kind. “You’re doing well?”

“Yes, I am,” Anabel answered, still trying to figure what exactly was going. How exactly had she ended up agreeing to dinner with them? “And how are you?”

“Wonderful. Oh, it’s such a pleasant surprise running into you here. Were you meeting someone here or…?”

“I work here, actually. I’d just gotten out of my office when I ran into you.” Or was ambushed by you, she thought.

“You’re an interior designer, correct?” her father asked curiously.

“Yes, I am.”

“How is that going? Are you enjoying your work?”

“I am, yes.”

“I’m so happy to hear that!” Lorraine tried ignore how her daughter jumped when she touched her shoulder. It was her own fault, she reminded herself. Hers and her husband’s. “There’s a nice Indian restaurant here we enjoy, if you’re interested.”

“Sure, that’s fine.”

“We can go elsewhere, if you’d prefer.”

“Indian food is great, really.”

“Good.” Her father waited until they were seated to ask, in more detail, how work was going for her.

“Well, thank you. The company I’m with is great. I enjoy them, and the clients.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“What about Europe?” Lorraine asked, leaning just the slightest bit towards Anabel. “You were in London, right?”

She didn’t know how they could know that, or why they’d remember. “Yes, I was.”

“Did you like it?”

“I did. It was a great experience.”

“Did you ever consider staying?” From her father, of course.

“I did. It was like a second home, and that made it easy to consider it. But it never got further than that—this is home for me.”

“It probably helped that your siblings were here.”

“It played a significant part in my decision.”

“I’m sure. Did you ever visit back after Eliza’s wedding?”

“No.”

“Oh. Any particular reason?”

“Just busy, with school and work and stuff.”

“Taken after Beckett, have you?”

Anabel laughed uncomfortably. People needed to stop comparing her to Beckett. “So I’ve heard.”

“We’re glad you’re back though,” Lorraine said warmly as their dishes were placed before them. “We should get together more often now that you are.”

She barely hesitated. “Absolutely.”

*

“Amanda,” Adam called in the direction of his open door.

“Yes, Mr. Martin—Adam,” she corrected quickly when he glanced at her.

“Get me the designer who came up with this.” He handed her the floor plan he’d liked and hunched back over the file he was annotating.

“Sure. Adam?”

“Hm?”

“I’ll get you your coffee.”

He looked up then, knowing that hadn’t been what she’d intended to say. “Amanda.”

“Yes?”

“Did you know your mother used to work for my father?”

“I did.”

“I figure that means you’ve earned the right to be honest with me. What?”

“Nothing. You’re just… you’re doing good work here. I know it’s crunch time for you, but you’re doing good work.”

He sat back and took the slinky he kept on his desk into his hands. “Thank you, Amanda.”

She nodded and stepped out.

Truth was, he’d needed to hear that. He’d needed to know he wasn’t just screwing things up. But the books were a mess and the clients were complaining and the designs had started showing less and less potential. A new team? he wondered, sighing. He didn’t want to be the one to—

When the phone rang, he picked it up, standing and taking a seat on the edge of the desk, facing the window, even as he continued playing with his slinky.

*

“Ms. Reid?”

Anabel looked up from the floor plan she’d been fiddling with, that she’d tried to focus on despite however much her mind rebelled.

She should’ve just followed her gut and stayed home.

“Yes?”

“You’re being called in.”

Called in? Uh-oh. “Uhm, yeah, okay.”

She followed the woman who looked slightly familiar, wondering why she couldn’t place her, to the other end of the office and was deposited just inside the large, innately male office.

Anabel cleared her throat and knocked lightly on the doorframe.

The man sitting on the desk, the phone held between his shoulder and cheek, turned then, his eyes widening when he saw Anabel. “Mr. Goodman,” he began smoothly as he cut the man off, “I personally promise you it will be taken care of. I’ll have to call you back.”

Mr. Goodman grumbled a bit more in Adam’s ear before hanging up.

Adam replaced the phone in its cradle and looked past Anabel to Amanda. “Close the door, please.”

She nodded as she stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Adam glanced at Anabel, noted the quiet fury in her eyes, and winced. Shit.

“You knew I worked for you.”

Okay, so it wasn’t a question, but she didn’t sound furious. Maybe there was hope yet. “I did.”

“And you still built a social relationship with me despite that knowledge?”

He should be so lucky. “Yes?”

“Are you an idiot?” she snapped, crossing her arms across her chest, her hands fisted. She was, quite visibly, shaking. “Is that why you hired me?”

“So I could put the moves on you? Are you really asking me that?” Adam asked as his hold on his temper slipped slightly.

“Well, you still slept with me knowing I was an employee.”

“If you think that’s all it was about, sleeping with you, then I don’t know what to tell you.” He held up a hand when she went to speak. “Regardless—”

“No, not regardless! Were you ever going to tell me?”

He was angry enough to stick to the truth. “Eventually. Now, regardless, this is a work place, Anabel, so we’ll discuss the more personal aspect of our relationship and where we stand with it later. Right now, I called you in because I’ve hired you for the Johnson project.”

She stared at him evenly. “Is it because I’m sleeping with you?”

Every ounce of control he had flew out the window. “As it seems all our personal relationship consists of is sex, do you really think I’d endanger my entire company for it? I picked your design out of various others I looked at. I didn’t even know it was yours, going by the ‘Oh, Shit’ look I’m sure I wore when I turned around and saw you. Serves me right for not checking who the designer was, I suppose.” He took a deep breath, hoped to regain some of his control.

Nope, not yet.

“Your design was good, aesthetically pleasing, and what the client wants. I’ll have Amanda send you details later today. I want the proposal on my desk by…” He glanced at the watch on his desk, next to the slinky he’d dropped when he’d seen Anabel. “Noon tomorrow. You’re dismissed, Miss. Reid.”

She almost picked up her design and stormed out. Almost. “Are you just always going to call me that now?”

He looked up from the file he’d gone back to and Anabel saw his features soften when he met her gaze. “I’m still figuring that out.”

“I’m sorry for accusing you of… I’m sorry. You’re better than that, and you deserved better than that.”

Dammit if she didn’t have a way of getting to him. He sighed and circled the desk, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. “Anabel.”

She smiled before glancing at the closed door behind her. “Will anyone come in?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Not unless I tell them to.”

“Good.” She stood and went to stand before him, lightly cupping his face. “Whatever our relation, you wouldn’t pick my design if it wasn’t what you wanted. I shouldn’t have thought otherwise. You’re not completely off the hook, since you should’ve still told me, but I was more wrong in this.”

His hands lightly encircled her wrists. “Fair enough.”

“So, I was wondering…”

“Yeah?”

“A slinky? Really?”

He laughed, letting go of her wrists and lightly placing his hands on her hips and she knew she was forgiven. “It helps me think. Don’t be mean to the slinky.”

“Okay, then I’ll just be mean to you instead,” she murmured before leaning up to kiss him.

His arms went around her, gently pulled her against him, and she sighed into the kiss, smiled.

“You know,” he began when she pulled away a moment later, “I’ve always fantasized—”

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

He frowned. “Fine. And we’re already here, on the desk—”

“Adam!”

“Jeez, okay.” He glanced down and was quickly distracted. “You look good.”

“Thanks.”

He hummed, fascinated with her legs. He didn’t know they could possibly look longer.

“Adam, my face is up here.”

“Not my fault you’ve got legs up to your ears.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, self-conscious.

“That you’ve got an amazing pair of legs, babe.”

“What happened to all that work place stuff?”

“You kissed me,” he accused simply, factually.

“Hmph.” She sniffed and reached over him to get her designs. “Excuse me, Mr. Martin. I have actual work to do.”

He was still grinning when she strode purposefully out of his office.

*

“I just had the weirdest two days of my life.”

“That’s a hell of a way to start a conversation,” Eliza said as she continued painting her toenails.

“Well, it’s accurate. So guess who I had dinner with last night.” Anabel hailed a cab and got in, telling him the address.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me soon enough.”

“Mom and dad.”

She got nail polish on her skin, cursed. “What?”

“Yeah, I ran into them after work last night and—take the BQE, please,” she directed the cabbie before sitting back again. “Anyway, so they suggested dinner and somehow I ended up agreeing.”

“Well, that’s good, right? Otherwise you’d seem like—well, you know.”

“I do.”

“So how’d it go?”

“Well, I think. It was very… civilized.”

“What do you mean?”

“They asked how work was, how I was settling in. If I’d liked Europe. Of course they asked about you, Will, Beck, and Eric.”

“Hm. Sounds productive. Almost pleasant.”

“It… well, it was, in all honesty.”

Her voice was warm when she spoke. “I’m glad for it, Anabel. Where did you guys go?”

“This Indian restaurant. The food was very good.”

“Oh, that’s sounds good! I should see if I can convince Will to go for that tonight.” She shook her head, shaking it off. “Anyway, that is weird. But I’m glad it went well.”

She would’ve flipped if it hadn’t, but didn’t see the point of letting Anabel know that.

“The thing is…”

“Yeah?”

“Mom… Mom said she was proud of me.”

“And why is that a thing?” Eliza asked, confused, making Anabel smile at her confident tone.

“Because. Well, I don’t know.”

“Of course she’s proud, Anabel. I am too.”

“I know. But you make it known. I know you’d be proud no matter what, so long as I was happy. Mom’s never been so… vocal about stuff like that. Not since we left.”

“Things change.” She’d tell her, Eliza promised herself. Just not right now.

“Yeah, I know. I just… I felt everything kind of, you know, settle in me after I heard that. It’s a hell of a thing to realize you’ve been striving for your parents approval all this time.”

“Oh, Anabel,” Eliza sighed, a part of her aching for her baby sister. She wished she had the words to give her, but she didn’t even know where to start.

“I’m fine, really. I just… had to share. And that’s not the weirdest part.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow rose. “Please, continue.”

She drew it out, partially to add to the anticipation and partly because… well, it wasn’t her proudest moment. “Adam’s my boss.”

Eliza missed her pinky toe entirely, but paid it no attention as her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“No, seriously. What?”

“I found out today, when I strolled into his office expecting to see the mysterious boss.” She hater admitting it, because it was an oversight on her part too. She should’ve done the research before she ever accepted the job, even if they’d been recruiting her.

“Did he know?”

“He did. He wasn’t going to tell me, yet anyway.”

“What a—”

“He called me in to offer me their newest client and I accused him of giving me the project because we’re sleeping together,” she blurted out, fidgeting with her purse as she listened to the silence over the phone.

“Anabel,” Eliza chastised finally, not knowing what else she could say.

“I know, I know. I messed up. I was just…” She sighed. “We patched up, mostly, but I feel like scum.”

“You should!”

“Thanks, Liza, really.”

“Oh, you had to have known I’d agree. That’s low, Anabel.”

“I know, I know. I just… freaked out, I guess. And it’s what everyone else would think so I—”

“That’s not an excuse. And if you’re using it as one, you must be desperate.”

“Eliza,” she said sharply, frowning.

“Don’t even. How are you making it up to him?” Eliza would’ve paid to see the look on her sister’s face as she pondered how to answer that.

“Making it up to him?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean?”

“You fucked up, Anabel. Now you have to make it up to him.”

“Why? We’re good now.”

“Anabel.”

“What?”

“Anabel!”

“Oh, my god, Eliza. What?”

“You’re a moron. Why don’t you cook for him?” Eliza asked excitedly, all but jumping out of her seat in excitement.

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Oh. Right. Here’s what I’ll do.”

Oh, shit, Anabel though as she sat back to prepare herself for one of her sister’s crazy ideas.