the chair, tapping the pen against my chin, my gaze flickering between the Chinese food down the long mahogany table, my sketchbook, and at Connor beside me.
He pushed his hands through his hair and stared at the blank paper in front of him.
When I laughed, his head peeked up, and he frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“You.”
He smiled then and straightened in his seat. “What do you think is so funny? That we have been at this forever, yet we have nothing? That my marketing team cannot think of a single thing to bring our ideas to fruition?”
“No. Just that you are too serious. Way too serious. I mean, this should be kind of fun, right? We need to display that in the product.”
He overly sighed and leaned back in the chair, rubbing at his eyes as though we’d been at this for hours, though we were only thirty minutes in.
I shoved at his shoulder, and that same discouraged look crossed his features.
“We’re so going to rock this. I feel it.” But did I feel it? The thing was, maybe we were thinking about this too deeply, and ideas would flow if we eased up a little. “Can you pass me some fried rice?”
Connor stood, scooping fried rice onto a paper plate. After passing me my plate, he served himself one.
Then, it hit me like a wave of ideas and words in my brain, the way creativity was sparked and a waterfall of ideas pushed through.
Food. Family. Chocolate.
Family eating.
But how did the family get to that place?
I dropped my plate on the table and began to sketch, emptying my ideas on the blank canvas.
It was crazy how my fingers could not keep up with the amount of ideas filtering through my mind.
“What are you drawing?”
When Connor peeked over my shoulder, I flipped it over and shot him a look.
“I’m not done, and you can’t ruin my flow here.”
“Just let me take a peek.” There was a seriousness in his tone that was quite comical.
“No.” I pointed to the Chinese food. “Keep eating. This might take a while.”
I stood and moved to the opposite side of the twenty-person boardroom table and continued to draw.
And draw.
And draw some more.
Thirty minutes later, I was still at it, but I had the concept. I smiled big as I continued the last finishing touches.
“Charlie …” Connor began again.
This man was impatient beyond words.
“I’m almost done.”
He had finished all the fried rice, crab rangoons, and noodles and now was pacing the room.
I blocked everything out. Every. Single. Thing.
And I concentrated on the sketch.
When I flipped the page, he inched closer. “You done?”
“No.” My head hadn’t lifted from the paper in front of me, and my pencil moved of its own accord. “Why can’t you just let me work?”
“I’m not a very patient man. You should know this by now.”
He inched closer like a stealth cat, but I ignored him because I was nearly done.
I felt him looming above me, trying to take a peek, and I laughed. “Get away, you stalker man, you.” Then, I shut the sketchbook. “Done.” I stood and lifted my chin. “But since you don’t listen to directions very well, I’ll show you it tomorrow.”
“Charlie!” There was a little whine to his voice that was hella adorable.
When I hid the sketchbook behind my back, a small smile crept up his face.
“You are not being very nice.”
My smile was bigger. “I never said I was nice at all.”
“Charlie …” His tone sounded like a parent scolding a child. “Do you know what I hated most when I was younger?”
There was a long pause after his sentence, and I shrugged as if to say, What?
“I hated Kyle teasing me. He’d tease and tease and take my toys and taunt me, and I’d stay utterly quiet until … I’d had too much.”
I laughed, which was the wrong move because he took a step forward, his face dead serious, devoid of any humor.
“I’ve eaten all the Chinese food, paced a short marathon on this floor, and been patiently waiting for you to finish.”
“Patient? You?” I scoffed. “Well, that’s your view on things. Let’s test that patience, shall we? I’ll let you see it tomorrow morning.”
He reached for my sketchbook, and I squealed as I propelled myself toward the opposite end of the room.
“Connor!” I lifted the sketchbook above my head, taunting him.
He shook his head. “I’m a whole head taller than you. Just give up now.”
“You’ll see it tomorrow,” I said, putting it behind my back again. “Just