Chapter one

“You need to relax,” Emma says to me as we walk into Starbucks. I have a huge portfolio under one arm and my cell phone held up to my ear with my other, talking to a client. “Put the phone down. Put it down!” she practically yells at me, like she’s trying to teach me a new trick, making a few people who are nearby turn their heads and look at us.

“Mr. Henderson? Yes, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to call you back about that wallpaper.” I click the phone shut and look at her. “Em, we’ve been over this, don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to a client,” I say angrily. I let out a sigh and rearrange the mass of things in my arms.

“Avery, you really need to slow down. You’re 23 and all you do is work,” Emma says as she orders her coffee. The guy behind the counter checks her out before giving the order to another barista. The thing about Emma is she’s beautiful but doesn’t know it. She acts so surprised when a guy asks for her number, even though her face is flawless and her hair is perfectly maintained at all times. I want to slap her.

“Em, I’m a successful interior designer at age 23. I can’t slow down. This is the life I’ve chosen, this is what I’m doing,” I state simply as I step up to the counter and the guy doesn’t so much as look twice at me. I let out a soft sigh to myself before ordering a White Chocolate Mocha, perfect for the February Pittsburgh day that’s raging on outside without us.

“Whatever Aves, but when you die of a cardiac arrest at the age of 40, don’t say I didn’t tell you.” I blink a few times at this, trying to understand what she’s saying before glaring at her as we sit down at a cute little table near a window, watching the world walk by. Emma glances down at her watch, and then looks up at me. “Aves, I forgot, I have an interview in like, 30 minutes, do you mind if I go?” she asks apologetically, her face turning red.

“No, not at all. I don’t mind,” I say as I take a sip of my coffee. I’m actually kind of glad she’s leaving because I know that if she stayed, all she would do is nag me about work. Speaking of work, I pull out my phone and dial Mr. Henderson’s number to talk to him about his atrocious floral wallpaper from the 80’s that he thinks is so wonderful. Just as I dial the number, a new number pops up on my screen, one that’s not in my contacts. I flip open my phone and put it to my ear.

“Hello?” I ask into the receiver.

“I’m looking for AV design?” a man with an accent asks my ear.

“This is AV design. I’m Avery, how can I help you?” I say in an almost robotic, practiced voice, pulling out my notepad to jot down any crucial information I may need.

“Yes, I just purchased a house here in Pittsburgh and I need help doing the whole decorating thing,” he says sheepishly.

“That’s what I’m best at,” I say. “Can I ask your name?”

“Sidney Crosby,” he says followed immediately with a clearing of the throat. Sidney Crosby? Wasn’t he some sort of hockey player? Who knows. I’m getting paid regardless.

“Okay, and I just need to know what you want done,” I say with an even tone, scribbling his name down on my legal pad.

“Everything,” he says with a high-pitched half-laugh.

“And I can contact you at this number?” I ask, all business.

“Yes,” Sidney answers briskly.

“What’s the best time for me to get in contact with you?” I continue, my business woman persona working overtime. He hesitated for a minute before answering.

“I really don’t have a specific time. My schedule changes all the time, but I’ll be around this Saturday,” he states, allowing me to draw my own conclusions.

“Alright Mr. Crosby,” I say, causing people to look at me with expectant looks on their faces. I glared at them until they turned around. Why would they be looking at me? “I’ll be in touch with you this Saturday. We can go to your place and get things figured out with colors and the whole lot.” I’m about to shut my phone when I hear him say something else.

“I’m going to need help with furniture too…” he says awkwardly. Nice.

“That won’t be a problem. That’s what I’m here for. I’ll talk to you Saturday,” I say before he can respond and click my phone shut so I can call back one waiting Mr. Henderson and his wallpaper.