She joined DJK within a month. A press release had been sent out and picked up by every major architecture magazine. Arwen Alexander Leaves RennBore for DJK/Connecticut as AIII. A few interviews came Arwen’s way, in which she mentioned her heroes in architecture, including Juliet and Dave Kingston (smart girl, mentioning a partner, even if Dave spent most of his time golfing and drinking scotch). Arwen worked hard. Designed well, took critiques, adjusted her designs when needed, credited other team members. There was nothing—absolutely nothing—wrong with her work.

But here’s the thing about architects. Every generation, there are two or three innovative, change-the-field-forever people. I. M. Pei, Frank Lloyd Wright, Mies van der Rohe, Zaha Hadid . . . architects who invented entire schools of design. They were the geniuses who created buildings the likes of which the world had never seen before. Sometimes that was a good thing (Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater), and sometimes not (Frank Lloyd Wright’s Guggenheim . . . can’t win ’em all). But they were the geniuses, the innovators, the type who changed the landscape, literally and figuratively.

And then there’s every other architect. Ninety-five percent of the best architects in the world designed buildings and interiors that were dazzling and beautiful, but built on the shoulders of those greats. Juliet felt she was in that category—creative, energetic, sometimes even brilliant—but not someone who was going to invent a new way of thinking.

Arwen, too, was a solid designer with a lovely portfolio. A little derivative, in that she clearly borrowed from her idols, but that was the way of the world, in everything from literature to fashion. Not everyone was Lin-Manuel Miranda, but that didn’t make them a bad songwriter. Not everyone was Gianni Versace, but that didn’t mean they didn’t make beautiful clothing.

Juliet thought Arwen had some flair. With experience, Juliet thought, Arwen could rise to Juliet’s own level, and sure, maybe surpass her . . . in a decade or so, after she’d learned more about the craft and worked with more senior architects. Hopefully, Arwen would become bolder and more confident, develop her own style and voice.

And then, six months into her employment at DJK, abruptly and without explanation, Arwen became the It Girl of Architecture.

Suddenly, articles about feminism and sexism in the industry appeared, with Arwen giving quotes . . . something Juliet didn’t know until the piece ran in the Times. It was nothing new, nothing that hadn’t been said by dozens of female architects before, but it got buzz. Then Architectural Digest asked Arwen to comment on the booming architecture in China and its impact on the future of cities, even though she’d never been to China or designed a building there.

Juliet had. She’d been lead on a massive retail and office center in Hangzhou, and an apartment building in Chengdu.