Page 35 of Running Risk
23
RYLEE:NOW
Me:
I need to go look at tiles today, so I can put the finishing touches on the pitch for the clients.
Fillingmy to-go mug with coffee, I grab a protein bar for breakfast as my phone vibrates on the counter. My knee has made a tremendous recovery, but it’s still sore when I stand for too long. I’m going to need all the energy to get through today because picking out tile requires a lot of walking, and I’m finally able to without the crutches.
Clayton:
I’ll come with you. Pick you up in ten.
My hand holding my phone drops to my side as I groan toward the ceiling. He’s been breathing down my neck this whole project, and it’s like he doesn’t trust me to do a good job. I know he’s nervous about pleasing the clients, and he’s made it clear he can’t not land this account. I just wish he trusted me, but then I don’t trust him, so I guess it goes both ways.
Clayton:
I have donuts.
After consuming an exorbitant amount of donuts, I walk through the many different aisles of tile while Clayton closely follows. He picked me up, donuts in hand, but the ride was quiet, even when I would try to start a conversation. It didn’t matter if it was about work, it felt like each new topic sank faster than the Titanic.
The building has every type of flooring you can imagine, as well as stone for walls. There are a variety of shapes, colors, and sizes, and I can’t help but examine each one closely. “Okay, do we like the large terracotta hexagon tiles or the small square ones?” I point to each tile, trying to imagine the bathroom I have designed for them. The customer wants colored tile on the shower walls and a more basic neutral color on the floor. That was their only request when picking tiles. I’m a sucker for a good terracotta tile. “Remember, this cream cross and star tile is going on the floor.” I’ve been working with Clayton for a full week. Today is the final day for me to nail down specific details. I’ve made all the decisions about the project except the flooring.
“Isn’t this why I hired you, so I don’t have to make these decisions?” Clayton’s forearms rest on the buggy as his body slumps over the cart.
“I think aloud.” I wave him off. “Since the cross and stars on the floor is a statement piece enough, we need something more basic on the walls in the shower. So I’m picking the terracotta squares.” I tap my lips with my nails while my eyes bounce between the tiles.
“Great. So we can finish everything with the presentation now?” Clayton pushes the cart closer.
“Nope.” I grab his shoulders and nudge him toward another aisle. “Now . . . we need the tile for the guest bathroom.”
Clayton quietly groans as he keeps moving.
“Don’t you know the job? Why’s this surprising?” I say over my shoulder, talking faster than his sluggish feet. I scan my options. I don’t want wooden tile since the rest of the house will be wooden vinyl planks, but they do look pretty.
“I guess I thought you had picked everything out before today.”
I shake my head. “Not when it’s tile. I like to look at them in person, but I do know I’m picking another cream tile for the floor. I just need to figure out the shower walls first.” I gasp as I walk through the next aisle. “This is perfect.” I snap a picture of the sage green rectangle tile. I can picture the shower with a black showerhead and these green tiles stacked vertically, and the cream star and cross tile continued on the floor so that bathrooms can have matching floor tiles. It’ll be amazing and cohesive.
Clayton walks closer, his face scrunched into disapproval. “Green? I can’t pitch green tile to the clients.”
I gasp. “Are you kidding? This is perfect. They wanted color for the wall tiles, and this gives them that.”
“So do a tan or something basic.”
Now, it’s my turn to look disgusted. “No. I’m putting this perfect green tile into my moodboard with the white oak vanity and black fixtures. The cream cross and star tile will pop without being competing since the grout will be cream, and the white shiplap will cover the walls so they have dimension without being loud, letting this shower tile speak for itself behind the glass shower door.”
Clayton sighs, and I square my shoulders, knowing he wants to disagree with me again.
“This will work, Clay. You have to trust me.” My hand lies on his forearm and squeezes before I grab a sample of each tile to show the clients in person, and start walking again.
“Grab a tan tile that will work too,” he says, as I put the green tile in the cart, and I pause before whirling around.
“What?”
“Ry, I know you’re good at this, but I want to make sure I have another option for the clients just in case they don’t like the green. It’s too bold. I need something to fall back on.”
My spine stiffens. “The green is perfect, and they will love it.”
