Chapter 3 - The Professional Power Play
Two weeks later, the board of the Horizon Development Group held a closed-door meeting to finalize the lead architect for the district renovation. Connor’s firm, Fleming Associates, was the frontrunner. My firm, Vantage Design, was the dark horse.
The conference room was pressurized. Connor sat at the head of the table, his posture radiating that same smug arrogance. He didn't even acknowledge me when I walked in, busy whispering something to his associate. He assumed he had already won.
When I stepped to the podium, I didn't present sketches. I presented a vision of the city that made his safe, suburban-aesthetic designs look archaic and uninspired. I spoke for thirty minutes, weaving in the sociology of urban spaces and the long-term economic impact of sustainable architecture.
I saw the board members’ eyes shift from bored to captivated. Connor’s smug smile vanished. He started scribbling notes furiously, his brow furrowing as he realized my plan would render his entire proposal obsolete.
After the presentation, he cornered me by the elevator. "That was a low blow, Elena. Reinterpreting the zoning requirements to box me out?"
"It’s not a low blow, Connor. It’s better design," I countered, adjusting my bag. "You’ve been coasting on your name for years. You forgot that I was the one who helped you build your reputation before you decided you were too good for it."
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He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I have a child now. I have responsibilities. Don't think for a second I won't do whatever it takes to ensure my firm survives this."
I met his gaze without blinking. "And I have a legacy to build. May the best architect win."
