17. Clarissa

17

CLARISSA

I wasn't privy to all the details when it came to the sale of the Stone Group to Kyle Love. I just knew that he started to be in our offices more and more at some point. The transition was so seamless that none of us really noticed. Or at least I think that's what the plan was. Everything seemed to take place around the same time my internship was scheduled to begin.

My first official day as Jame's intern started off not too much different from any normal workday. Except when I left for lunch, the front desk was taken over by a temp.

"Go be an intern, I've got this," Jenna said as she shooed me off toward James's office and began showing the new woman how we expected things to be handled.

Before I had a chance to even wonder what I was supposed to do for my first day as intern, Kyle swept into James's office and announced that he was taking the new intern for the rest of the day.

James sat back and gestured at me like I was some kind of commodity. "There she is."

"What's going on?" I was more than a little concerned.

"James has worked with you for several years. He knows what you think about architecture. He knows what to expect from you," Kyle said.

"So do you." At least he did six years ago. "You had me show you around some of my favorite architectural places in Chicago."

Kyle grinned at me. I was too annoyed to be swayed by his charming grin.

"Give me a reminder," he crooned. He was trying to be suave. I refused to fall for him.

"Are you going to let him kidnap me like this?" I asked James.

He chuckled, thinking I was being funny. "I'm certain it'll be a good start for getting you into the right mindset. Get out of the office. Clear your head."

I cast my gaze from James to Kyle and back again.

"Are you serious?"

"Get your coat. Come on," Kyle said with a tilt to his head.

I had no choice but to follow him out of the office. I bit my tongue until we were outside.

"What kind of game do you think you're playing?" I demanded to know.

"I want to see if your architectural taste has changed at all. Will you take me to the same places, show me the same details?"

I glared at him.

"Relax, Clarissa. I thought this would give us a chance to get reacquainted, give me a chance to see if your ideals have changed at all. I feel like there is more than a few years between us that I've somehow missed. I thought we could reconnect."

I stopped walking. Kyle took a few more steps before he realized I was no longer keeping up with him. I stared down at the sidewalk. There was so much more than a few lost years between us.

I sucked in a deep breath and raised my eyes. I stared at him. It was hard to read his expression with half of his face hidden behind aviator sunglasses. I took a long look at Kyle. Yes, he was incredibly handsome, and he broke my heart, but that didn't mean I had to let him get that close to me again.

The gap between us was a trench of his own making. And now he wanted to reconnect? There were so many things I could say right now.

"You never gave me a chance to thank you in person and say goodbye," I managed to say. It was the least dramatic of the things on my long list of complaints that were in that chasm between us.

"I got caught up in the project," he said. "I was harnessing the power of hyper focus. It's one of the things that helped me get to where I am."

"Your sense of design and personality got you where you are. Your hyper focus is just an excuse for when you stopped talking to me." I kept my voice low. I wasn't going to yell, but he needed to know he had hurt me. He had no idea what his disappearance had done to my ego and self-esteem, not a single clue about the struggle it had been to not give everything up. I don't know how I would've made it if it hadn't been for Marci, the best friend I could have ever dreamed of having.

He nodded slowly. "I could have handled that better."

Was that his idea of an apology? I didn't know if it was or not, but we couldn't stand here all day hashing out our past. He wanted me to show him something. Fine. I'd show him something.

"I'm not dressed for taking a walking tour. These shoes are not made for walking all over the city," I pointed out before I started to walk again.

He continued to stroll down the block, completely unfazed by my griping. He stopped and opened a door to a pizza place.

"Why are we here?" I paused before stepping inside.

"I haven't eaten. Have you?"

He certainly did like his food. We both seemed to momentarily forget about our grievances and agreed there was nothing quite like a good Chicago pizza. At least we could agree on something. The food had somehow helped me reach some form of inner truce. He knew I was upset. That was a start.

After lunch, Kyle called a cab, but instead of telling it to take us to the river and into the loop to see the buildings I had shown him that first little tour we had taken, I asked the driver to drop us off in Oak Park. The little secret temples were still my architectural happy places. They were the recognizable details that film makers went for when setting a movie in Chicago. If they didn't use the towering glass fa?ade of the Willis Tower, they were using action shots around the Tribune Tower with its flying buttresses. But Kyle didn't need me to show those to him again.

He didn't say anything until after we both climbed out of the car and it left. "I'm surprised you chose to show me Frank Lloyd Wright houses," Kyle said.

"Who says we're here to look at Frank Lloyd Wright? There are other architectural works in the neighborhood."

"We're in Oak Park," Kyle said as if I needed a reminder.

It was a nice fall day. Kyle's jacket hung open, and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Leaves crunched underfoot.

"If we're not here to look at Frank Lloyd Wright"—he gestured at a house we approached— "Then why are we here? I thought you said you weren't up for walking."

"I'm not up for walking at the high-speed clip expected of me if we were downtown. I can handle a little stroll around the neighborhood."

Kyle slowed his pace and cocked his elbow out toward me. There was something about that gesture that felt more like an olive branch than any words he could have spoken.

I accepted the invitation and slid my hand into the crook of his arm.

"We're only about a block away from the house I want to show you." It sat next to a Frank Lloyd Wright house. It wasn't famous, but it was lovely.

"I've done the unofficial tours in Oak Park more times than I care to remember. I've seen this house so many times, and I came to realize how much I liked the fine details. It doesn't have a hidden temple on top, and it seems to be several decades older, or maybe the Frank Lloyd Wright house was just ahead of it. But you can see the transition from the late Victorian style transitions into Craftsman style. Architecturally, this house is underappreciated. Ask anyone about the houses on either side of the famous ones. No one is going to remember it."

We stood on the sidewalk and looked at the house. I didn't think the neighbors would have been too concerned. They were more than used to people walking through and gawking at the other homes.

"Why have you picked this one to show me?" Kyle asked.

"I think as the people who design buildings and public spaces, we need to not be so blinded by the flash and glam that we miss out on charm, functionality."

"I seem to recall you weren't a fan of form follows function."

"I'm not a fan of function limiting the style. I'm saying that it's the little things that make something endearing. Look, just because something is popular and famous, doesn't mean it's necessarily the better solution."

Kyle crossed his arms and turned toward me. "This isn't about houses or schools of style, is it?"

I snorted. "Sorry, but I'm not so deep as to have formulated some kind of architectural metaphor on our relationship from the time we ate lunch until now. If you are reading anything into what I have chosen to show you, maybe you need to reflect on why you think that way." I took a few steps away, leaving him to glare at me. "Come on, I love this area. Besides, if I'm going to show you Frank Lloyd Wright buildings, you know I have to show you his temple. You already know how I feel about those."

"You do love little temples, don't you?" he asked as he jogged a few steps to catch up.