Page 44 of Best In Class
And lately, DEI—the thing that was supposed to open the door for people like us—has become a dirty word. Something whispered, eye-rolled, quietly gutted in back rooms and boardrooms. Diversity is now an inconvenience. Equity is optional. Inclusion is a risk.
And women like Luna who work in a man’s world are the first to feel it.
I know what it’s like to walk into a room and wonder if you were chosen for optics instead of merit. To be seen as decorative instead of definitive. I’ve wornthatsuit.Heard the quiet snubs. Smiled through the veiled insults and the invisible ceilings.
Camy can’t read a room, that’s obvious because she obliviously continues, “Uncle Tommy said?—”
I cut Camy off, “If Tommy wants to talk about this project, I need Luna with me. She knows more about what’s going on than I do, and she’s the one who has the answers your uncle may want.”
Camy clenches her jaw, and a flicker of impatience crosses her face. “But?—”
“Just ask Tommy’s assistant to let Nova or Rachel at Savannah Lace know, and we’ll confirm,” I speak over her, letting her know that work appointments go through the proper channels, via the project manager at Savannah Lace. This istheirproject. I’m just a consultant on it to support Luna, not manage her, regardless of what Tommy thinks.
Luna is not my second.
She’s my partner.
“Fine,” Camy snaps and walks out, her heels clicking out of the trailer like gunfire.
Luna glances at me. “I don’t need to be there if Tommy wants?—”
“We go together or not at all.”
She gazes at me as if trying to read between the lines of what I said.
“Okay,” she whispers softly and then clears her throat. “Let’s go through this mechanical plan again because I still think we have an airflow disconnect between Zones B and D.”
We work through it together. A team.
It’s fun. It’s energetic. The discussions are engaging, positive, and constructive.
God, but I love working with Luna! So, fucking much.
I wish we could partner on more projects in the future.
I wish we could grow together professionally.
I wish….
“This is frustrating.” Luna pushes her tablet away and stands.
She stretches with her hands above her head. Her t-shirt is tight against her breasts.
I see the younger engineer’s eyes bug out.
I growl softly, and he quickly looks away.
Yeah, putz, eyes away from my woman.
She steps out of the trailer to make a phone call, and I continue to work on the problem. Many architects would ask junior types to work on the airflow issue, but not Luna. It’s a small detail, but it could affect comfort, energy efficiency, and even long-term performance, so she’s not going to budge until this is fixed.
I take the work home with me, and since it’s for her, I spend half the night working on it. I cross-reference schematics, run simulations, and even call a colleague from New York who used to lead mechanical systems for me.
By three a.m., I think I’ve cracked it.
The ductwork is rerouted, the airflow is streamlined, and the system's integrity is preserved without sacrificing ceiling height or patient comfort.
It’s subtle.Clean. Smart.
