Arwen said, “please think about it. You’re very reliable, you multitask well, and you’re . . . well, steady.”
“Gosh golly. Thank you so much, Arwen.”
Arwen twisted her straw into a knot. “DJK just offered me a partnership. So you might be thinking it’ll be nice not to have me around, but you’ll still know that I leapfrogged over you. If—if they offer you a partnership—and I think it’s odd they haven’t yet—you’ll have to live with the fact that you’re their second choice. After you put in more than fifteen years with them, they offered it to me.”
Well, shit. She was right. Juliet straightened her cocktail napkin. “Can I share something with you, Arwen?”
“Of course.”
“I was you. Ten years ago, I was pretty much exactly where you are.”
“Were you, though?”
“No, you’re right. You’ve gotten much more attention than I ever did. But I got my fair share. I also listened to architects who were better than I was. I put in the work and the time, and I became a better architect, because I knew I had to, and I wanted to.”
“So is this the ‘I paved the way for you’ speech?”
“No. It’s me telling you you’re not as good as you think you are. But you could be great. Someday. And you won’t be great if you believe all the buzz around you. If your name had been Lorna Kapinski and you weren’t quite so photogenic, I doubt you’d be getting all this attention. I, on the other hand, picked you for your potential as an architect. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I’m taking this as a no,” Arwen said. “Thank you for your time, Juliet.”
“Thank you for your offer.”
With that, Juliet slid off the stool, pushed her hair behind her ears, and grabbed her bag. “Good luck, Arwen.”
Arwen wasn’t at work the next day, and her office was empty. Kathy, too, was gone, not so much as an e-mail of goodbye after all this time. That hurt, since Juliet thought they’d been friends. But Barb Frost hadn’t raised any fools. Juliet had always been wary of Kathy.
Meanwhile, the rumor mill was churning out stories, and Edward and Dave were in a huddle in Edward’s office. Juliet closed her door and did her work.
It was no surprise when Dave and Edward called her into the conference room at five.
“Juliet!” Dave said as if he hadn’t seen her seventeen times today. “You look amazing! That week off did you some good, did it?”
“One day, Dave. One day off. And yes, it did.”
Edward was staring at his iPad. “Let’s get to it, shall we? We’d like to make you a partner, Juliet. Your excellent contributions here have not gone unnoticed or unappreciated.”
“So true! We’re a meritocracy, and you have merit, all right,” Dave chuckled.
She listened as the men wooed her with phrases like percentage of profits, principal ownership, staff management, increased vacation time. When they were done, she folded her hands neatly in front of her.
“Arwen turned you down, I take it?”
The men exchanged glances. “Uh . . . well, she’s decided to pursue other opportunities,” Dave said.
“I know. She asked me to join her firm.” They flinched in unison.
“Well, we know you’re a team player, Juliet,” Dave said. “Loyal. We gave you your start, after all.”
“When I got my license, I had offers from nine firms, Dave,” she said.
“But you came here, and I think we’ve treated you very well.”
She could do it. Sure, they offered Arwen the spot first, but business was business, and Juliet wouldn’t take it personally.
It was the recent memory of the two of them lecturing her in her own home just a few days ago that did them in.
“No thanks,” she said. “I hereby tender my resignation. All the best to you, gentlemen.”
She called Oliver from the car, and he congratulated her and said they’d talk more when she got home, but he was very proud.
Her righteous badassery lasted the entire drive home and up to dinner (which was not salmon, but a delicious roast chicken. Juliet’s favorite. Oliver had served it with a flourish and a kiss).
“I quit my job today,” she announced as the girls bickered. That did silence them.
“Hear, hear, darling,” Oliver said, toasting her.
“Seriously?” Brianna said. “You quit? That’s just great. Are we still going to Hawaii this summer? Has it occurred to you that you make more than Dad and maybe quitting isn’t a great idea?”
The little . . . brat. “You know what, Brianna? Maybe we’ll go to Hawaii, and maybe