STEEL AND SOFTNESS

ChapterTwo

“Morning,” he said with a smile, in his compelling husky voice.

“Morning,” she replied, short and clipped, already bracing herself for whatever easy charm he was about to drop.

“We’ve got a minute before the crew starts on the mezzanine,” Carl said, holding up the blueprints. “Thought we could go over the skylight placement. Also—” He stretched out one of the paper cups he was holding.

“Coffee. Figured I’d improve my odds of you saying yes.”

She blinked, caught off guard.

“You think bribing me with caffeine will get you what you want?”

“It worked on the foreman yesterday.”

She stared at the cup suspiciously and then at his face. After some moments, against her better judgment, she took the cup.

The heat seeped into her fingers, and for a split second, she was aware of the small, ridiculous fact that no one—not even her own sister—ever thought to seek out with a gift.

She shoved the thought away before it could take root.

“Let’s see the plans.”

As they leaned over the makeshift table by a side of the construction site, the sun rose high above the site and Adriana kept her focus on the clean lines of the drawing. But every so often, she caught Carl watching her—not the way people sometimes did when they were waiting for her to mess up, but like he was trying to see past the steel.

And that was dangerous.

Because deep down, beneath the crisp lines of her professional armor, there was still that girl who had spent her life standing in Amelia’s shadow. And the last thing Adriana needed was someone making her wonder if she was truly competent or not.

So she slipped behind her armor.

“Some of us don’t have time for applause, Carl. The work won’t finish itself. We should get back to work now.” She said in a hard and firm voice.

She stepped past him, her boots crunching on the gravel.

But his voice followed her, steady and warm.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

Her steps faltered—just slightly—before she forced herself to keep moving. She told herself it was just another conversation. Just another day on site. But the truth was, his words had lodged somewhere deep, in the quiet corner where she kept the memories she didn’t want to revisit. Her ears tingled in the manner they often did whenever those memories resurfaced.

She hated herself for allowing such moments of weakness.

“Another reason I must steer clear of this guy,” Adriana muttered under her breath as she walked away.

######

That night, alone in her apartment, the city lights spilling in through the half-open curtains, she thought about his words again.

Her phone buzzed—a message from her younger sister, Amelia, with a glossy photo of herself at some media event. “Miss you, big sis! You should come out more, you work too much.”

Adriana’s lips curved in a humorless smile. Work too much. Yes, well, someone had to.

She placed the phone face down, but the reflection in the window caught her eye. The strong lines of her jaw. The straightness of her shoulders. The face everyone saw—confident, unyielding and secured.

They’d never guess how much of it was facade.

She sighed, stood up and quickly moved to pull down the window drapes to shut off the image of herself that was mocking her.

She didn't want to see that Adriana that the world knew; because times like this, hidden away from the world, she just wanted to be the Adriana who didn't need anyone's approval to be herself - the unseen daughter of the Hopper.

######

By mid-morning on Thursday, the Texas heat was already clinging to everything like a second skin. Adriana adjusted her hard hat and crossed the gravel toward the temporary site office—a white trailer parked near the north entrance. She had back-to-back meetings scheduled, and one of them, according to the email from her boss, was with “the new lead architect.”

That was Carl.

Pushing open the trailer door, she stepped into the welcome blast of air-conditioned office. The space smelled faintly of fresh coffee, printer toner, and the faint tang of sawdust tracked in from outside.

Inside, was the culprit himself, tall and standing near the table with a set of blueprints rolled out on the table.

She must admit that he was dashing—dark hair swept neatly back, sharp hazel eyes scanning the drawings with an easy focus. His shirt sleeves were rolled to his forearms, showing strong, tanned wrists. A watch with a steel band caught the light as he smoothed out the paper.

When he looked up, his lips parted in a gentle curve, transforming his face. The smile invited one to share in its warmth.

“Hi Adriana,” he said. His voice was low and even, with a hint of warmth that made it feel like they were buddies.

“Hi Carl,” she replied, keeping her tone professional.

“At your service,” he replied, with a grin, his tone teasing. “Lead architect for this little beauty we’re building.”

She snorted like one of the men on her site then glanced at the blueprints.

“Little beauty? That’s an optimistic way to describe a 90,000-square-foot public library.”

He grinned.

“Well, every building starts as an idea. The size doesn’t change the fact that we’re trying to make it something special.”

Adriana resisted the pull of his easy charm.

“Special is great. But my job is to make sure it’s also functional, within budget, and standing strong fifty years from now.”

“Then it sounds like we’re going to get along—so long as you don’t kill all my design flourishes in the name of practicality.”

She arched her brow.

“If your ‘flourishes’ compromise safety or overshoot budget, I won’t hesitate.”

Carl chuckled, clearly unfazed.

“I like someone who speaks their mind.”

She ignored that. “So, what exactly do you want to go over today?”

He gestured to the plans. “The west wing’s reading hall—your team’s been prepping the foundation. I’d like to review the column spacing before we finalize the concrete pour. The lighting layout depends on it.”

Adriana leaned over the blueprints. “You’ve got six-foot spacing here.”

“Right,” he said. “Gives the skylights more breathing room.”

She tapped the sheet. “And increases the unsupported span of your beams. Which means—”

“—we’d need reinforced steel,” he finished. “Yes, I accounted for that in the structural notes.”

Their eyes met across the table. For a moment, there was a flicker of mutual recognition—neither of them was going to be the easy one in this partnership.

“Well,” Adriana said finally, “if the steel grade matches what’s in the spec, we’re fine to proceed. But I’ll want to review the supplier’s certification.”

“Of course,” Carl replied. “I’ll have it sent over.”

They moved through the rest of the plans with a flow that surprised her. He was quick on details, open to adjustments, and didn’t take it personally when she challenged him. That was rare—too many architects treated engineers like they were there to spoil the party.

When the meeting wrapped up, Carl rolled up the blueprints and gave her a small, almost conspiratorial smile.

“I’ve worked with a lot of engineers, Adriana. You’ve got… an aura.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“An aura?”

“Yeah. An aura that displays that you’re always in control of the room.” He slung the blueprint tube over his shoulder. “It’s… admirable.”

Her instinct was to deflect.

“It’s called doing my job.”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug, but the knowing look in his eyes suggested he saw more than she wanted him to.

As he stepped past her to the door, he paused. “I’ll be back on site tomorrow morning to check the beam installation. Maybe we can grab a coffee before then?”

Adriana hesitated.

“Why would you do that?”

Carl shrugged.

“Because I want to.”

“Things like that don’t come without strings.”

Carl looked at her with

a wry smile.

“Not from me.”

Adriana turned and walked to her desk.

“I’ll pass.”

She needed to keep things official here. No more gifts of coffee.