Chapter 11 - The Arcadia Project
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The Arizona sun beat down on the pavement outside the studio, but inside, the air was cool, smelling faintly of lavender and freshly printed paper. I stood at the massive marble island in the center of our material library, meticulously arranging a series of natural stone tiles. The Arcadia project was the largest residential contract my firm had landed to date, and the client, a retired tech executive named Mr. Harrison, was notoriously difficult to please.
Sarah walked over, carrying a tray of espresso shots and a thick binder of plumbing specifications. She set them down carefully, avoiding the fragile glass samples I had just laid out.
"Mr. Harrison is going to be here in ten minutes," Sarah announced, checking her sleek silver watch. "Are we entirely sure about the dark walnut cabinetry for the master bath? He seemed very hesitant about it during the initial consultation."
"I am entirely sure," I replied, my voice projecting a calm, unshakeable confidence that I had spent the last year perfecting. "He was hesitant because his previous designer didn't balance the dark wood with enough natural light. We are bringing in the massive skylights and the pale quartzite countertops. It will ground the space without making it feel like a cave."
Sarah nodded, taking a quick sip of her espresso.
"You always have the vision, Clara. I just handle the panic," she smiled.
"You handle a lot more than that, Sarah," I corrected her gently.
The bell above the door chimed, and Mr. Harrison walked in. He was a tall, imposing man who commanded attention, but I no longer shrank in the presence of demanding men. I stepped forward, extending my hand with a warm, professional smile.
May you like
"Mr. Harrison, welcome," I said smoothly. "I have the final material boards ready for your review. I think you are going to be absolutely thrilled with the direction we've taken."
"We shall see, Clara," he rumbled, shaking my hand firmly. "Show me what you've got."
