“Stop, Josie.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I was hoping to find him another nanny, but I’ve exhausted all my available people and it’s so last minute. I’m about to let him and his daughter down. I’ll ask Meredith if she knows of anyone when she wakes up. Anyway, I’ll be out soon.”

“Good. I also need to look professional today.”

“You always do.” She turned to the mirror to finish her eyeliner as she talked. “You’re going to do great. You know you’re going to get this promotion. You’ve put in the time and the work, and from what you’ve shared with me, you always have the best designs. I don’t know what historic Charleston would do without you looking out for its aesthetic.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m serious! It actually came up in conversation yesterday. I meant to tell you. I was at the bank and some big wig was congratulating them on renovating while enhancing the historical elements and the bank manager mentioned your firm. So you can guess I immediately jumped in and told them your name and how you were the architect to watch.”

“You didn’t!”

“Of course I did. No point in letting that old lecherous boss of yours get all the credit when it’s your designs getting him the praise.”

“That’s what being a part of a prestigious firm is about. It’s a team effort. Besides, my immediate boss is a sweetheart, it’s the other partner, Mr. Tate, who holds the lecherous distinction.” I’d adored that project. Most of our projects these days were new construction though.

She snapped open a case holding the fake eyelashes she always wore for video conferencing. “And that’s another reason you need your name on the team door. So you can start changing the workplace culture.”

“We’re only as good as the work we all put forward,” I said, parroting the company motto. “And name on the door? Hold your horses. I’m trying to make senior associate, not buy in to partner. It will be a while until I can afford that.”

“I know, love. Student loans will kill us all. But seriously, you are the best young architect they have. You can’t tell me that frat boy nephew of Mr. Tate’s has one ounce of your talent.”

I took a sip of coffee to hide my grimace at her accurate assessment of our most recent hire, Jason. “I don’t like to speak ill of people. Anyway, hurry up, glamor puss. I need to shower.”

She tutted before dabbing some gloss on her lips and giving herself a side-to-side preen in the mirror.

“You look great,” I said.