CHAPTER 5: Too Pretty To Function
1164 Words
Maya snatched the blueprint from Gray’s hand.
“I’ll study this and get back to you in three days. Until then, stay the hell out of my face!” she snapped, storming out of his office, her sweaty palms firmly gripping the blueprint.
Gray stood there, watching her leave, his brows raised in a mix of amusement and intrigue.
Three days later, after avoiding his greetings and pretending he didn’t exist, Maya barged into his office and slammed the updated blueprint on his desk.
“Finally,” Gray said, his voice deep with relief and fresh energy.
He leaned over the blueprint, tracing the lines of her design with fingers that moved way too slowly for her liking.
Maya dragged a chair and sat across from him, slurping what was left of her cold coffee, eyes fixed on him, ready to unleash if he dared say anything stupid.
“So let me guess,” Gray started, his brows raising in disbelief while he pointed at the blueprint. “You actually want the engine hood to be this long?”
Maya rolled her eyes, releasing a frustrated sigh.
“Yes, Gray,” she said, her voice sharp and full of attitude.
“I call it the Desert Wind,” she said, gesturing dramatically. “Don’t you feel the flow? The dream?”
Gray pulled his chair closer, his signature masculine scent subtly settled in her nostrils.
It threw her off.
Damn it, why did he smell so good, always?
She straightened her back slightly, forcing her eyes to stay on the blueprint. This was not the time to start noticing things like that.
“Okay, help me out. What exactly do you mean by the dream?” Gray requested.
Maya snatched the blueprint from him and leaned over it.
“Look at this Gray!” She held up her design, still in awe of how amazing it is.
“People will literally imagine themselves cruising the streets of Los Angeles in this beauty. Heads turning, necks snapping, people staring. It’s giving iconic.”
Gray stared at her silently, watching her gesture like she is already driving her design. There was something magnetic about it.
He cleared his throat “It’s also giving... collision hazard. You do realize the driver can barely see anything in these, the mirror is so slim it's practically non existent.”
Maya let out a groan. “Oh please! You engineers and your obsession with laws and logic.”
“It’s about the statement, Gray. The vibe. They’re buying into the feeling. The presence. How else do you build that kind of car without being obsessed with the design?”
She motioned like a confident driver in an expensive car.
“This kind of mirror design? It adds exclusivity. Sleekness. People don’t buy these cars to blend in. They buy them to be remembered.”
Gray stared at her, completely silent, watching her passion pour out.
“And even with basic functionality,” Maya continued, “a rare, well-designed car will still be a best seller. Meanwhile, your ‘practical innovation’ would struggle to move off the lot if it looks like the newest taxi.”
She leaned back with a satisfied look.
Gray tapped the paper with his finger. “You do know this won’t turn well in tight corners, right?”
She groaned louder.
“We need to make more changes,” he said firmly, locking eyes with her. “And we need to do it together. That’s the only way this works.”
He paused. “If we approach it together, I can help stop you from ending up with something that’s just… too pretty to function.”
Maya’s jaw tightened.
“Too pretty to function?” she repeated, sitting forward. “Are you serious, Gray?” her voice lowered, but it was sharp.
“I bet you don’t even understand the kind of clients we’re working with. Not everyone cares about your overcomplicated functions.”
“They care about how the car makes them feel. About stepping into something that makes them feel seen. Powerful.”
She took a breath, then looked him straight in the eyes.
“I guess that’s why you struggle with anything aesthetically pleasing. You’re too rigid. Too emotionless.” She fired back, feeling a fleeting wave of relief.
The air between them was thick
Gray stared at her for a long beat, unreadable.
Then he calmly sat up and pulled out his iPad.
“What are you in the mood for?” he asked. “I’m ordering lunch.”
Maya blinked, caught off guard.
“what?..Uhm... I don’t know. Don't worry about me. I’ll figure it out later.”
He raised a brow. “You sure? Because I’m getting two grilled shrimp tacos with mango salsa... sweet potato fries, and pineapple fruit juice.”
He smirked, looking up at Maya “Your usual, right?”
Maya narrowed her eyes. “How! how do you know that Gray?”
She was stunned by his level of accuracy concerning her favourite street food.
A soft warmth spread through her chest, She almost smiled but she caught herself, Jared had never paid this much attention to the details about her.
Gray shrugged, scrolling casually.
“You talk a lot when you’re mad. Or drunk.”
A small laugh escaped his lips, and Maya opened her mouth to ask more questions but the words refused to come out.
Not yet.
---
Few hours after lunch and arguing about who needs to compromise.
“So... based on the changes you suggested, I might have a version I've drawn last week that works,” Maya said quietly, slurping her pineapple juice.
“Let’s see it,” Gray replied.
She paused. “I think I left it at home. Oh my God!” Her eyes widened, hand covering her mouth.
“That design is at Jared’s place. I forgot it there the day I moved out.”
She sprang up. “I need to go get it.”
Gray stood up too, grabbing his coat. “I’ll drive you. It’s almost dark.”
“No, it’s fine. I’ll drive…”
“I insist,” he said firmly.
Maya tilted her head. “oh, are you now my protector? Why do you want to drive me?”
Gray paused, then looked her in the eye, slowly drawing close to her.
“Let’s just say... last time I drove you there, what your fiancé did isn’t something I want you facing again.”
Maya froze. “What exactly did he do that night?”
She took a step toward him, her voice shaking, eyes searching Gray's, desperate for an answer.
“Gray, no more hints. Just tell me what happened that night, in detail.”
Gray slowly approaches her.
Maya hesitates, her stomach burning with a mix of anxiety and unknown expectations.
He gave her a little smile, his breath brushing over her face. “Let’s talk… while I drive.”
- Writer
