The hotel commission came back.
Not the original one, the Boston hotel lobby I had turned down in the first year of my marriage. A different hotel, in the same group, in Chicago. Which was, as Dana pointed out with some drama, poetic.
"You don't have to take it," she said.
"I know," I said. "That's exactly why I'm going to."
It was a significant commission. Lobby, bar, and twelve executive suites. It would take eight months of work and require two weeks on-site in Chicago, spread across three visits. The fee would allow me to hire a third staff member and invest in the studio's expansion.
I told Marcus.
"Chicago," he said.
"I know."
"Are you okay with that? Personally, I mean."
I had thought about this. "Chicago is a city," I said. "It's where something happened that hurt our marr
