Page 65 of Snowed In with the Bosses

We filed in and arranged ourselves on the couch. I had no idea if I should be relieved or continue to hold back. She’d said we would talk about it, which was more progress than we’d made.

Clara walked back into the room—I wouldn’t dare mention how she now waddled a bit like a duck—and turned a laptop around to face us all. “They’re here, Harrington. We can wrap this up.”

“Good. Good.” Harrington leaned back in his expensive leather chair and laced his fingers together beneath his chin. “I’m thrilled with the work you’ve all done, Clara especially. Turning you loose in a freelance capacity was the best decision.”

“Your numbers show the complex is wildly successful.” I checked the numbers again to confirm. “It’s your most successful venture to date.”

“And that’s because of Clara.” Harrington pointed at Clara, his smile brimming with satisfaction. “Keep up the good work. You’ll go a long way in this business. I’ll be talking to you again soon. In the meantime, enjoy the incoming fame.”

He ended the meeting with a wiggle of his fingers.

Clara sank onto the edge of the nearest chair. “What did he mean by that?”

I had no idea, but our history with Harrington promised it would be sensational.

29

CLARA

It took less than a week to find out what Harrington meant, and it amounted to an interview with Laurel Price, a prestigious journalist in the architecture world. Laurel was the kind of woman who took sass to a whole new level. She’d made her way up the corporate ladder in her own way and had taken over the company where she’d started as a lowly intern. She ranArchitecture Internationalwith an iron fist and enough laughter to keep me grinning all the way up until a camera zoomed in on my face and a red light blinked on.

“Keep looking at me, and don’t worry about anything.” Laurel crossed her ankles, her knee-length red skirt showing a flash of leg that would never make it onto the screen. I’d watched enough of her interviews since taking her call to feel comfortable in my beige sweater dress pulled snug around my waist. The table in front of us blocked us both from the chest down. “We’ll talk for a few minutes until you’re warmed up. These first few minutes will be edited out.”

But she would not edit out any of my responses. The filming took place in one continuous shot, no stops, no edits. Whatever she said would be released into the world. “Thank you.”

Laurel waved one hand at her. “It’s my job, sweetheart. But I’m truly thrilled to have you on today. I’ve gone through your career step-by-step. Can you tell me when you first knew that you wanted to be an architect?”

“I was young, maybe six.” I eased into the story, relaying it to her as I remembered it. Building up the platforms with my blocks and bricks and seeing how things fit together. What made them sturdy and what weakened them. By the time I finished, my cheeks ached from smiling.

“And how has that translated to your new role as a freelancer?” Laurel’s teeth flashed in that welcoming smile. “You were the mastermind behind the latest Harrington project, and I speak for all of us here when I say it’s remarkable.”

“Thank you.” A beat of hesitation locked my throat before I pushed through. “My father would have loved the whole aspect of Mr. Harrington’s dream. He used to tell me that the sky wasn’t the limit, only my imagination was.”

Remembering Dad and the few memories we had together gave me courage. He had always wanted me to reach for my dreams.

“You don’t talk much about your father. I’m curious, as I’m sure our audience is as well. How much influence has he had in the pursuit of your architecture dreams?” Laurel’s face held no guile, nothing but open curiosity.

I stopped worrying about the cameras, the lights, what the interview would look like once it aired and was printed. Laurel had the market on video, audio, and print. My words would be on her social channels, her podcast, and her magazine.

“Dad was amazing. He was the kind of man who dreamed big and lived bigger. Between him and Mom, I never had a chance of becoming anything less than what I am. Mom’s a fighter, a survivor. She taught me how to hold on and fight back when it feels like the whole world is against you.” I warmed tothe subject but made myself stop talking to await Laurel’s next question.

The babies shifted in my belly, and I barely managed to keep from wincing when one rolled across my bladder.

“You certainly took the world by storm when you left Summit and struck out on your own. I understand there’s a bit of a story there, but I’ll leave it to you to elaborate.” Hope sparked in Laurel’s eyes. She wanted the dirt but wasn’t the kind of journalist who worked in rumor and gossip.

“A lot happened during my time with Summit. They are an amazing company and I wish all of them the best.” I could say that now that Allan was behind bars. “The simple fact is, Laurel, I fell in love with my bosses.”

A moment of shocked silence reverberated through my bones. Laurel leaned forward and set her chin in her palm, her elbow on the table. Delight lit up her eyes and a bright smile curved her lips. “There’s nothing better than a good love story.”

I nodded and rubbed a hand over my belly. The camera might not pick up the action, but I didn’t care. “I didn’t get to spend enough time with my dad. He died when I was very young, but he was an amazing man. So are Alexander, Liam, and Ethan. They will be great fathers. Our children will have a world where their fathers are always present. They’ll know they are loved and cherished.” Emotions clogged my throat, stopping me until I took several sips from the water Laurel provided me.

“Sounds wonderful.” Laurel remained focused on me.

“It is. Children should know they’re loved. They deserve parents who are present in the best way possible. That’s what they will give our children, along with stability and every opportunity to become amazing adults.” I took another sip. “And we’ll create some buildings that will blow the lid off the architecture world.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Laurel smacked the table and directed the rest of the interview with quick, easy-to-answer questions that gave my mind plenty of time to churn its way through the chance of a lifetime.

Laurel and I ended the interview with a hug, and I made my way home. A nap was in my near future, but I’d enjoy the rush of adrenaline as long as it would carry me. I grabbed my laptop from the counter and settled in on the couch with my swollen feet propped on the coffee table. The bag of clothes Liam had brought sat beside my feet. I’d gone through them once, in awe of the outfits he’d chosen. Cute animals covered each of the onesies, the soft yellow and green pastels a far cry from his usual bold reds, purples, and greens. I tipped the bag over with my toes and stretched forward to drag the hangers close enough to pick up.

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