Fighting Mr Knight

2

Wider than that, it’s the hot topic across the UK construction industry.

Everyone from politician to pop star is wading in with their opinion.

The Lexington Group, Europe’s largest property empire, conservatively valued at a humble seven billion, has bought huge swathes of land east of Canary Wharf, London’s version of Wall Street.

Right now, it’s old wharves and docks spread over thirty hectares, mostly brownfield land where youths skateboard and take drugs.

They plan to create a whole new urban village full of flats, bars, restaurants and artsy buildings to house all the hipsters flooding in. It will be the new Thames South Bank of the east.

At its helm is local East Ender property tycoon, Jack Knight, propping up the top forty under forty UK rich list, not to mention national tabloid gossip with his rampant, outrageous s*x life.

In his own words, he plans to reshape the east of London. At this rate, he’ll own more land than the Crown.

It’s the largest regeneration project London has seen in years and every architect’s wet dream. One of the most exciting projects of my career if we win the bid. The catch?

Jack Knight.

I’d rather work for Satan on designing hell after what he did.

“Yes, I wanted to spend a decent amount of time discussing this.” Max looks pointedly at Layla.

“I have news,” he continues irritatingly slowly, looking around the room until he’s confident he has everyone’s undivided attention. He unsuccessfully tries not to grin. “We’ve nailed it. The project’s ours.”

A loud cheer breaks out. It’s not often the office celebrates, but this is a huge deal for us.

As part of the wider regeneration, Knight’s vision is to convert London’s oldest factory, the London Motor Works, lying derelict for decades, into apartments and shops. To work on a historic landmark like this? CV gold dust.

“We beat Porter & Partners?” I ask incredulously. They’re a global powerhouse and front-runner for the bid.

“They didn’t feel it was a good fit.”

“Porter & Partners backed out of the bid?” Nisha asks slowly, her chin tilting to the floor.

Max’s nostrils flare to full capacity. “That’s not what should be the focus here, but they turned it down.”

We stare at him blankly.

“So, we didn’t nail it,” I murmur, exchanging glances with Nisha.

“Why on earth would they do that?” Darren pipes up from the back.

Max raises his palms. “It’s not relevant. What’s relevant is that we have won the work and will do our damnedest to show we are the best for the job. Now, as you may be aware, Jack Knight and I go back a long way, so I’ll be overseeing this project.”

I internally roll my eyes. Max isn’t exactly on Jack’s speed dial. Due to one common connection, they occasionally attend the same parties. Max learnt most of his knowledge from Knight’s biography, hidden in his sock drawer. I thought it would emasculate him if I told him I found it.

“Several of you will be reassigned to the project ASAP. Lexington expects to see condition surveys, treatment plans and conceptual design drafts within twelve weeks.” Nisha gasps.

I inhale sharply. We haven’t even visited the site yet. That’s an unreasonable ask for a building of that size and complexity.

“Now we know why Porter turned it down,” Nisha says. “We’d never pull together credible designs within a few weeks even if we weren’t dealing with listed buildings.”

“Uh-huh.” Max, irritated, raises a brow. “Are you going to be the one to tell Jack Knight that?”

“Won’t he listen to you, Max?” She pouts. “Isn’t it already in the bag if you guys,” she makes air quotes, “go back a long way?”

It’s not even in the trolley, never mind the bag.

“It’s not enough time,” I say to Max with more bite than I intended. “Can we negotiate an extension?” And who the hell is this Danielle woman?

He inhales a lungful of air through his nostrils, meaning shut the f**k up.

The conversation is fruitless. If Lexington says jump, we get a long pole and launch ourselves into space.

My eyes fix on the Lexington Group HQ, a great big forty-something-floor glass brute dominating the London skyline and blocking our sunlight.

Jack Knight pretty much owns this skyline with his fancy hotels and luxury apartments. The guy thinks he’s a bloody god and London is his monopoly board.

“The partners and I will be discussing resourcing this afternoon,” Max says.

Nisha nudges me.

And that’s why I’m sitting here, enduring the soul-sucking experience of working under my exfiancé.

Bradshaw Brown promotes once a year and that date is four months away.

I won’t cut off my nose to spite my face. I’ve worked too hard to leave without the title of senior architect. And they’re putting me through the training to get admitted to the elite architectural Conservation Register.

Bricks before d***s.

Otherwise, I have to claw my way up somewhere else.

“Another bleeding hipster village where the normal folk won’t be able to afford housing,” Steve, my fellow architect, grimaces. “Jack Knight’s a cockney, has he no shame?”

“Guys, focus.” Max’s lips press tightly together. “Now the deal’s secure, Jack has called a meeting next week to talk to us personally about this. I’ll send out the statement of work. You’ll need to know

it inside out. Everyone assigned to this project must live and breathe it until I say otherwise.” We exchange glances across the room.

“Why is he meeting us?” I ask Max suspiciously. “Surely his construction leads will handle this?”

“That shows how important this project is to him,” Max snaps back. “Nisha, I’ll need you to drop what you’re doing and support the design team on the commercials. We may be buddies, but Jack is not a patient man.” I do another eye roll in my head as Max looks at his watch. “Too many minutes wasted today—next time be early, folks.”

Nisha grunts beside me. “More all-nighters to pull this out of my ass in time.”

Everyone spills out of the boardroom while Max loiters at the front. “Bonnie, a minute please.” He gives me a thin-lipped smile as a frenzied conversation erupts in the hallway about hot Danielle and Max’s d**k.

I grind my teeth into a smile to stop murderous threats from escaping. “Yes, Max?”

“Sorry about that little mishap earlier. I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

Guilt briefly flashes across his face. It’s gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

“Me and the rest of the team.” I titter defiantly. “Look, it’s fine. Doesn’t bother me. I’m dating too.”