My Riley

Chapter Seven-Vincent

After Riley left, Vincent remained seated behind his desk.

For several minutes, he didn’t move.

The office was quiet again.

The same office.

The same desk.

The same walls.

The same city outside his windows.

But Vincent’s attention wasn’t on any of it.

His eyes were still on the sketches Riley had left behind.

He picked one up.

The lobby.

He studied it again.

Then another.

The waiting area.

Then the conference room.

He looked through them slowly.

There was something about Riley’s work that Vincent genuinely liked.

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t excessive.

It wasn’t trying too hard to prove that Stanley Corporation had money.

It was sophisticated.

Simple.

Warm.

And somehow, it still looked powerful.

That was difficult to achieve.

Most corporate designers went in one of two directions.

Either everything looked cold and overly serious, or everything looked expensive simply for the sake of looking expensive.

Riley had found something in between.

Vincent leaned back in his chair.

Warmth without losing structure.

Luxury without unnecessary extravagance.

Modern without looking temporary.

It made sense.

More importantly, it felt intentional.

Vincent picked up the sketch of the reception area again.

He imagined walking into the finished building.

Natural stone beneath his feet.

Soft lighting.

Greenery.

Clean architectural lines.

A reception area that didn’t feel like a security checkpoint.

A waiting area where clients could actually sit comfortably.

He could picture it.

And that was the first thing that gave him hope.

Not certainty.

Not yet.

But hope.

The presentation had been good.

Very good.

But Vincent knew better than to make decisions based solely on sketches.

A design could look beautiful on a tablet and completely fail in reality.

Materials could look different under actual lighting.

A room could feel larger or smaller than expected.

Furniture could change the balance of a space.

Colors could behave differently once they covered an entire wall.

That was why Vincent needed to see the work in person.

Once Riley had decorated a few of the spaces, Vincent would know.

That would tell him much more than a presentation ever could.

He wanted to walk into the reception area.

Stand inside the conference room.

See the lighting.

Touch the materials.

Look at the furniture.

Experience the space.

Then he would know how far the project could go.

For now, though, the contract was signed.

The project was officially Riley’s.

Vincent had given him the access he needed.

The budget would be managed.

The meetings would happen weekly.

And Riley would begin turning an empty building into the new home of Stanley Corporation.

Vincent placed the sketches neatly back into the folder.

He looked at the time.

He had spent far too long thinking about interior design.

There was work waiting for him.

He picked up the first file on his desk.

An acquisition proposal.

Vincent opened it.

His expression changed immediately.

The softness he’d allowed himself disappeared.

Business was business.

He read the first page.

Then the second.

Then the third.

His legal team had highlighted several sections.

There were concerns about the company’s financial position.

Vincent made notes in the margins.

He didn’t like the proposed valuation.

Too high.

He continued reading.

Another file.

International expansion.

Another.

A supplier contract.

Another.

A staffing issue.

Another.

A board request.

His phone rang.

Vincent answered.

“Yes?”

His CFO’s voice came through.

“We received the revised numbers.”

“Send them to me.”

“I already did.”

Vincent checked his email.

“I have them.”

“There are some changes.”

“I’ll review them tonight.”

“Tonight?”

Vincent glanced at the stack of documents beside him.

“Yes.”

There was a pause.

“You’ve been working since early morning.”

“I’m aware.”

“You should rest.”

Vincent’s expression hardened slightly.

“I’ll rest when I’m finished.”

His CFO sighed.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

The call ended.

Vincent looked at the reports again.

Work had always been easier than everything else.

Numbers didn’t ask how he felt.

Contracts didn’t expect emotional explanations.

Business didn’t care whether he was tired.

It simply needed decisions.

So he worked.

Hours passed.

One meeting became two.

Two calls became six.

A document that should have taken twenty minutes took nearly an hour because Vincent found an error buried in the financial projections.

He called the responsible department.

Then another department.

Then legal.

By the time he finally leaned back in his chair, the room was dark except for the lights above his desk.

Vincent rubbed his forehead.

He was tired.

More tired than he wanted to admit.

He looked toward the folder containing Riley’s sketches.

It was still there.

He reached for it.

Opened it.

And once again, he found himself looking at the lobby.

For some reason, the image made the room feel less heavy.

Maybe because it was different from everything around him.

His office was dark.

Controlled.

Structured.

Functional.

Riley’s design was structured too.

But it had life.

Vincent wondered if that was what his new headquarters needed.

Not simply a building.

Not simply a place where people worked.

A place that felt alive.

A place people wanted to enter every morning.

A place that reflected the company Stanley Corporation had become rather than the company his father had left behind.

Vincent closed the folder.

He wasn’t going to get ahead of himself.

The real test would come later.

When the first spaces were completed.

When the furniture arrived.

When the lighting was installed.

When Riley stood in the middle of the finished lobby and saw his concept become reality.

That would be the moment Vincent made his final assessment.

But for now?

He had hope.

And Vincent hadn’t realized how rare that feeling had become.

His phone buzzed.

A message from Riley.

Vincent opened it.

Riley:

I spoke with the project team. I’ll start with the reception area, waiting area, and one conference room so we can see how the concept translates into the actual space. I’ll send you the preliminary budget tomorrow.

Vincent read it.

Then typed a response.

Vincent:

Good. Keep me updated.

He stopped.

Then added:

I’m looking forward to seeing it.

He stared at the message before sending it.

That was more honest than he usually was.

But it was true.

He was looking forward to seeing it.

Vincent sent the message.

Then placed his phone on the desk.

For a moment, he sat quietly.

Tomorrow would bring more meetings.

More contracts.

More numbers.

More decisions.

The same endless cycle.

But now there was something else waiting in the middle of all of it.

Riley’s project.

A blank headquarters slowly becoming something.

Vincent stood and gathered his files.

He switched off the desk lamp.

As he walked toward the door, he glanced back one last time.

The folder containing Riley’s sketches sat on his desk.

Vincent smiled faintly.

He had no idea what the finished building would look like.

But for the first time since deciding to move Stanley Corporation into the new headquarters, he felt confident that he had chosen the right direction.

And perhaps…

the right person.

He turned off the light and left the office.

There was still work to do.

But now, Vincent had something to look forward to.