Page 113 of The Widower
“Seriously?!”
“Yes. Again,” he added dryly, laced with sarcasm.
“Would it kill you to just say yes again?”I tried not to laugh.
“I’m not answering that,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the massive desk in front of him.
I moved closer and glanced at what he was working on. It took me only a few seconds to recognize it—the project for James Sullivan’s mansion.
I stayed quiet for a while, just watching him sketch, studying his notes.
“Smart move putting the garden there,” I said after a moment. “But I think you’d get more space if the pool went here.” I pointed at the layout. “And what if you made the gate a bit smaller to use this space better?” I pointed again, and Colin looked at me like I’d just spoken a foreign language.
“Let me guess… that’s none of my business.”
Colin turned his chair toward me and crossed his arms. Great. Here came the lecture.
“How do you even know what my notes mean?”
That one caught me off guard.
“Well, I just… do.”
“You just do?”
“Yeah. I follow a few architects online, watch videos, that kind of thing. I remember details easily—line placement, design logic, explanations. I don’t have a degree or anything, but just by glancing at something, I can figure out a few things.”
He studied me for a moment, clearly surprised—maybe even a little impressed.
“How about you learn a bit more and help me with the project?”
I couldn’t help it—I laughed.The suggestion was so unexpected it sounded like a joke.
“Can I ask what’s so funny?” he said, his voice carrying that sharp edge of impatience.
“You don’t do that,” I said, heading for the door. “Not to someone who actually dreams of becoming an architect.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Oh, you do. What’s the logic in asking me to help design a mansion? A mansion,” I repeated for emphasis.
“I just want to see if you’ve got potential.”
“I don’t know anything technical,” I protested.
“You know what most college grads get wrong?”He stroked his beard.
“No. What?”
“They rely too much on technique—and not enough on instinct. I had a few colleagues like that. Know where they are now?”
“No. Where?”
“Driving Uber, working admin jobs, law offices, nutrition clinics, you name it,” he said. “I’m not judging what they’re doing—it’s just proof that a degree doesn’t guarantee anything.Putting too much faith in a diploma is a mistake. Free advice: never trust a diploma. Technique alone won’t get you far—practice is the real teacher. I’m living proof of that. So, let me ask again… want to help and learn something new, or keep thinking I’m just messing with you—even though everyone knows I have no sense of humor?”
“With that level of persistence, fine—I accept.” I sat down, smiling, excitement bubbling up inside me. “It’ll be good to learn from the best.”
“I’m not the best,” he said. “But I’m one of the few who worked my ass off—and got a little lucky, too.”
