Page 100 of I Am Sin

“Yeah. He said to send you to him when you got here.”

I give her a nod of thanks, and once I leave the reception area, I enter a hive of activity, with architects and designers engaged in animated conversations and poring over blueprints at sleek, minimalist workstations.

No one gives me a second glance as I walk to the office. The gold nameplate saysRodrigo Reynolds. The door stands ajar, inviting me in. Still, I knock softly.

Mr. Reynolds, presumably, looks up from his desk. “Yes?”

I wave timidly. “Hi. I’m Diana Steel.”

He flashes me a big corporate smile. “Diana, welcome.” He rises. “Please come in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Reynolds.” I take a few steps into his office.

“Call me Rod. Have a seat.” He gestures to a leather chair on the other side of his desk.

Rod is tall with dark hair, though it’s graying around his temples. He’s wearing khakis and a white button-down, no tie. I guess this is what he considers business casual. His office is spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering panoramic views of Denver. The walls are adorned with architectural sketches and framed awards. Mr. Reynolds—Rod—is clearly a respected expert.

“Let’s get started.” Rod pulls out a folder from his desk. “Here’s a project we’re currently working on—a mixed-use development downtown. We’re in the initial stages of design, and I’d like you to take a look and offer your insights.”

I accept the folder, slightly disappointed that it’s not the mountaintop project. But this is my first day. You don’t send a rookie into the majors. I flip through the plans and sketches, envisioning the possibilities for the project. This particular development is a great candidate for vertical urban farming. Portions of the building’s facade or rooftop could be dedicated to hydroponic or aeroponic agriculture, providing fresh produce to residents and local businesses and promoting self-efficiency. There are also spaces that could be used as pop-up shops, coworking areas, or event venues. One particular area could serve as an interactive art installation. I could get my cousin Gina—the artist of the family—to come down and help me out with that.

I expect Rod to ask me what I think, but instead he takes the folder from me. “Look at me, handing you work as soon as you arrive. We should take a tour of the office first. Who did you do your interview with?”

I try to hide my disappointment that he didn’t ask me for my thoughts. “Um… It was someone in HR named Kathleen, and then I spoke to Mr. Lopez and to Ms. Wallace.”

He nods. “Good, good. Judith Wallace is no longer with the firm, and Mr. Lopez is on vacation for the next two weeks. I’m handling his projects while he’s gone. He’s requested that you work with me, and if we work well together, he’ll probably pair us up permanently.”

I paste a smile on my face. “Sounds good.”

Rod introduces me to my new colleagues and gives me a glimpse into the collaborative and dynamic culture of the firm. We pass through open-plan workspaces filled with drafting tables and computer stations. He shows me the break room, which has several vending machines and—I wasn’t expecting this—an air hockey table. There’s also a small kitchen with a full-sized stainless-steel fridge for employees to store their lunches, and an outdoor patio area where employees are encouraged to bring their work on sunny days.

After introducing me to myriad coworkers, most of whose names I promptly forget, Rod shows me to my work area and leaves me alone with the file he gave me in his office.

“Take a look and think about your ideas. We’ll go to lunch to discuss them.”

“Lunch?”

“Yes.” He raises an eyebrow. “You do eat lunch, don’t you?”

I eye his left hand. He’s wearing a wedding band. This is just a lunch. I’m not sure why I’m reading something into it that’s not there.

“Of course. What time?”

“I assume you have lunch around the same time as every other human being.” He chuckles, then checks his watch. “I’ll stop by your workstation around twelve thirty. I’m interested to hear what you have to say about this project.”

“I look forward to it. Thanks for the tour.”

“Anytime.” He smiles. “See you in a few hours.”

I delve back into the file and begin making notes.

The time passes quickly, and when Rod collects me, I take my iPad and follow him out of the office and into the elevator. We end up at a café on the first floor of the building.

“So what do you think of the project, Diana?” he asks once we’re seated in a corner booth.

I grab my iPad. “I like it a lot,” I say. “I wrote down my thoughts and?—”

He takes the iPad out of my hands. “Let me see. I like to see what you write down even more than what you say. It helps me understand your process.”

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