A design for love

Chapter three

“You know, the diarrhea should have been my first clue, but it didn’t really cross my mind. I thought I had at least another week before my period started.” I said, flopping down on my bed beside Julia. My sock-covered feet stretched out dramatically as if to convey the full weight of my tragic day.

Recapping my Monday with Julia made me realize just how spectacularly things had gone off the rails. That morning, stuck on the toilet, should’ve been my *big* warning. My body never fails to announce my period’s arrival with a dramatic flair, and clearly, the universe didn’t think a little mercy was in order just because it was my first day on the job.

How fantastic.

“And can you imagine how much worse it could’ve been if I didn’t have a tampon in my bag?” I added. “Who would I even have asked for one? Caroline? Matt?” My face twisted at the thought.

“You would’ve actually bled on the floors, huh?” Julia smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

I groaned loudly, burying my face in my pillow. “I *still* can’t believe I said that. Forget that he’s my boss—that’s just weird to say to *any* stranger. And now it’s going to be his first impression of me. He’s probably drafting my termination papers right now.”

Julia yanked the pillow away and laughed. “Girl, he’s not going to fire you. If he does, I’ll personally egg his entire company. Every single floor.” She said it with such conviction that I couldn’t even doubt her loyalty.

Of course she’d do that. She loves me.

“What I don’t understand,” she continued, shooting me a pointed look, “is how you didn’t recognize your own boss. Didn’t you do a ton of research on him before applying for the job?”

She wasn’t wrong. I *had* done my homework, watched interviews, read articles, even skimmed through a few exposés for good measure. Jonathan Prescott’s face had been plastered across countless blogs and headlines. Billionaire’s son, now a billionaire in his own right—it wasn’t exactly subtle. But in that moment of sheer tampon-panic and gastrointestinal distress, nothing had clicked. The aspirin guy had simply been some random stranger saving me from a disaster, not my actual boss.

“I don’t know how that happened,” I admitted sheepishly. To prove my point, I whipped out my phone and pulled up a Google image search of him.

“Well,” I said, “he looks different in his pictures. I mean, they don’t really do him justice.”

Julia leaned over, squinting at the screen. “He’s hot.”

“You should see him in person,” I replied. “He’s like one of those guys you meet on a tropical vacation, spend five minutes chatting at a cocktail bar, then poof, they vanish forever.”

“Except this one’s at your workplace, gave you aspirin, and let you use his private washroom,” she pointed out with a wicked grin.

I rolled my eyes, hurling a pillow at her. “Don’t make it sound weird.”

My phone buzzed with a text.

> **Hey honey, how was your first day at work? Call me when you’re free, okay? Love, Dad.**

I smiled. My dad always ended texts like he was signing off on handwritten letters. At this point, I found it too amusing to even correct him.

“Rowan came by today,” Julia said suddenly, pulling my focus back to her.

“Oh?” I arched an eyebrow, grinning. “And?”

“And nothing!” she huffed. “He just came to pick up his stuff. We talked for five minutes, then he left.”

“Now I’m worried. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’re both acting like this is a real breakup,” I said cautiously.

Julia’s expression softened, sadness creeping into her voice. “That’s because I think it is. This time feels… final.”

I didn’t press her. Whatever they’d fought about was clearly still raw. I wanted to respect her boundaries, but it was hard not to wonder what exactly happened.

“You’ll figure it out,” I offered gently, reaching for my laptop to tackle a mountain of emails. Caroline had already handed Matt and me a special assignment, she wasn’t letting us coast through the new-hire honeymoon phase.

“And you know what else?” Julia continued, her tone more animated now. “He didn’t say anything about me going bald. I could tell he wanted to though.”

“Maybe he’s leaving the immaturity to you this time,” I teased.

She smirked. “Oh, please. He’s the reason I went bald in the first place. I’m thinking of growing it out and going brunette though. Blonde wasn’t my color.”

“You could dye it purple, and you’d still look amazing,” I assured her.

She stood, stretching with a loud yawn. “Well, I’d better head to my place. I'm meeting with Michael tomorrow. Can’t be late again, he wasn’t exactly thrilled last time.”

Julia really wasn’t a morning person, her routine was more of sleeping at 5am and waking up past noon. The only times I’d trust her to wake up early was whenever she had to meet up with her manager to go over her work and assess her progress.

Luckily enough, she didn’t have the normal 9-5 stressful job hours most of us sadly had to deal with. She worked as a ghostwriter for quite a few online blogs and the pay was so good she didn’t even need to get another job alongside it. She got to work from home, follow new trends and basically publish gossip about whatever is relevant at the time. She was honestly living the dream life and I know she loved it. Her manager, Michael, maybe not so much. She seemed to tolerate him more than actually liking him.

“Michael’s not gonna be happy even if you get there three hours early. Nothing is pleasing that man!” I’d met Michael once or twice and our encounters weren’t necessarily pleasant ones. He was rude and snobbish and I’m convinced he thinks his sassy attitude makes him quirky and charming. Spoiler: it doesn’t.

I really didn’t understand how Julia could work with him.

“If he starts with me again I’ll just leave and go get a burger.” She made her way towards my bedroom door and gave me a brief wave. “See you tomorrow girl.”

“Goodnight!’ I responded after her as she closed the door.

I spent the next hour diving into my emails and tackling the project Caroline had assigned me. It wasn’t anything particularly demanding. She just wanted me to whip up a few designs that could potentially be used in the company’s housing projects. I grabbed my iPad and stylus, letting my creativity take over.

I started with simple, minimalistic ones, clean lines, neutral tones, and straightforward layouts. There’s something appealing about minimalism that I appreciate, even though I prefer a more vibrant aesthetic. It's simple and elegant and looks so good when put together properly. After a while, I shifted gears, experimenting with bolder colors and more eclectic styles. Personally, I’ve always believed people should embrace color and character in their homes. My mum’s place in the UK, for example, is covered in bright yellow wallpaper with tiny white patterns, completed with vintage decor all over the house. Danny, my younger brother, always complained it looked too jarring but I thought it gave the house so much charm and personality.

After a bit of tweaking and polishing, I reviewed my designs, added the finishing touches, and sent them off to Caroline’s work email.

Done!

I glanced at my phone. It was 10:47. Hmm. Not too late, maybe Dad wouldn’t mind me calling.

I dialed his number, and he picked up almost immediately. It was obvious he’d been waiting.

“Hey, honey! I was starting to think you hadn’t seen my message. How was work today?” His voice was upbeat, though a bit rushed and he sounded a bit out of breath. I didn't question it though.

“Work was brilliant, Dad!” I replied, deciding to leave out the chaos of the morning. No need to tell him how I’d snapped at my boss or almost had a tampon catastrophe. “The office is amazing, and everyone’s been really nice so far.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so proud of you!” he said warmly. “So, I was thinking… how about we go out and celebrate? Maybe a little dinner on Friday? My driver can pick you up after work.”

“Dinner?” I paused, chewing over the idea. It’s not that I didn’t like the thought of spending time with Dad. It just felt… formal. We’ve never really been a “Friday night dinner” kind of duo. Coffee catch-ups or lighthearted phone chats were more our style. Dinner? Not so much. It usually ended up being awkward with more silence and less conversation.

“I’m not sure, Dad. I’ll probably be wiped out after work, and—”

“Honey,” he interrupted gently, “I don’t want to force you, but I thought this was worth celebrating. Getting a new job is a big deal, and it’s been a while since I saw you. I’d love a chance to catch up.”

He wasn’t wrong. It had been over a month since we last saw each other, despite living much closer now. Maybe dinner wouldn’t be so bad.

“Okay, Dad,” I said with a smile. “Friday it is.”

“Brilliant!” His excitement was contagious. Honestly, now I was kind of looking forward to it too.

“We’ll plan it more during the week,” he added. “I’ll let you rest now, you must be tired after today.”

He wasn’t wrong. The fatigue and the lingering cramps in my abdomen were catching up to me fast.

“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, honey. Can’t wait to see you on Friday!” The line beeped as the call ended.

I reached for my bedside drawer to grab my charger, mulling over our conversation. My relationship with Dad hadn’t always been perfect. Things had been rocky, especially after my parents divorced. But since moving to the States, we’d both been trying to make it work. And honestly, it felt like we were in a better place now. I really hoped it stayed that way.