Tess was still buoyant the next morning when she headed toward the conference room at Roark, Cleland, and Howard, late, to keep her reputation of scattered-but-brilliant architect intact. She was, in fact, scrupulously organized, and considered “prompt” to be fifteen minutes early. She shifted her blueprint bundles under her arm, palmed her presentation remote, and breezed through the great glass door, chirped a good morning and breezed down the long table occupied by some very important, impatient men all trussed up in business suits and ties. Poor guys. She dropped her blueprints on the table with a thud, pulled out her chair, and plopped in it. She looked around and granted the table a wide smile that had charmed and seduced more unamused people than these, and said, “Am I late?” In the seat next to hers, her boss pressed his hand to his mouth, but only to keep his laughter to himself. So did her office mate, across the table from her. The Cleland portion of Roark, Cleland, and Howard rolled his eyes. She pretended to be oblivious to these things and, well, everything else, too. “You’re Mi-kyung Chun?” said some dour, disdainful voice from down the table. “Not if you ask my mother,” she trilled with one of her well-honed smiles directed straight at the old curmudgeon. It didn’t work on him. That was all right. People she couldn’t charm simply had bad taste or were determined to be unhappy, but the poor darlings couldn’t help it, which was sad. “Now!” she said breathlessly, clasping her hands together in front of her and looking around in feigned wide-eyed naïveté. “Who’s going to say the opening prayer?” Her poor boss and office mate were shaking, but the money men in the room were gaping at her as if she had three heads. “Oops! Wrong meeting. Where was I? Oh, yes.” She stood again, looked up the length of the table, stopped, and studied the tabletop the other way. She took a surprised breath. “You know that scene in Kill Bill where Lucy Liu hops up on the table in her kimono and minces down it with a samurai sword and chops off that guy’s head?” Surely they had to be thinking this architect was off her rocker. “Yeah.” She gave a definitive nod as if talking to herself and tapped the table with a fingertip. “That. I love that.” --Tess LaMontagne #WeWereGods
Posted on: Fri, 17 Jan 2014 23:05:37 +0000
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