The Position by Izzy Mason Read Free Book Online

sounds like an excellent thesis on the eccentric work of Gaudí in Barcelona. Even though it doesn’t resemble my own work today, Gaudí was a huge influence on me. I’d be honored to be an influence on a person like you. And I think you have a lot of potential to grow into an excellent architect. Just tell me you have the ambition.”  
    Disappointment floods through me but I refuse to let it show. Having a famous architect be my professional mentor is a dream come true. It’s beyond anything I could’ve hoped for when applying for this job. Just because the guy is a total hottie doesn’t mean you have to have the hots for him. It’s pathetic. Yet even as I chastise my degenerate, lust-addled brain, I revel in the fact that this special position will allow me to spend even more time near him.  
    I give Lazarus a broad smile. “Ambition?” I practically sing. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Chapter Nine

    I park the car at the curb just down the street from Travis’s house and check to make sure nothing valuable is visible. Not that I own anything valuable, but some assholes will break your window for practically anything. The neighborhood is nice enough and I probably have a week or so before the dog walkers, joggers, and nosy Parkers start complaining.  
    I’ve been working at Lazarus & Smith for nearly a month, and am due to get my very first paycheck. Not having an actual address myself, I’ve given them Travis’s, something I’ve been doing for years. I find Liz and Travis sitting on the porch drinking gin and tonics. I’ve never seen Travis stick with one girl for so long, and I’m glad. I think Liz is the best one yet. If fact, we’ve even become friends. She lives just a few houses down but doesn’t like her roommates, so she spends as much time as she can at Travis’s place. Just like me.  
    “Want a drink?” Liz asks. “We’re out of lime but Travis found a lemon and it’s actually pretty good.”  
    “No thanks,” I say. “I don’t want to be hung over in the morning. Jude has an early Skype call with some earl in London. I’m supposed to take notes.”
    “Oh yes,” Travis exclaims teasingly. “Good show, what what? Must be sharp for that old sock Jude!”  
    Liz crinkles her brow and looks at him. “What’s that even supposed to be?”  
    “British…?” Travis gives her a faux-sheepish look. “No good?”  
    “No good.”  
    They both crack up and clink their glasses together. There’s nothing worse than being the only sober person in a group. I climb the steps of the porch and collapse into one of the wicker chairs.  
    “Did my check arrive?” I ask Travis.  
    “I’m sorry, what was that?” He playfully cups his hand over his ear. “You say you’re taking us out to Pizza King for dinner?”
    “Don’t be a douche,” I mumble, giving him a playful swat. I’m wiped out. I’ve never worked so much in my life. “So, is that a yes?”  
    “It’s on the coffee table,” Travis grumbles. “So, are you staying, Crankypants?”  
    I make a face at him. “I can’t. Thanks, anyway.”  
    “I haven’t seen you home this early in ages,” Liz says. “The hours for that job are mental!” She looks over at me with genuine, if slightly drunken, concern. “Seriously, Mickey. Is he still treating you right? There’s nothing weird happening? You’d tell us if there was, right?”
    I roll my eyes. Why is she so stuck on this? “Not only is he the perfect gentleman,” I explain, “he’s teaching me loads. I feel like the luckiest architecture grad in the world.”  
    The truth was, having Lazarus as a mentor *was* amazing. Though I spent most of the time in the office doing the mundane clerical jobs of an assistant, he would sometimes take me with him to meetings or have me take notes on Skype calls with clients around the world. One afternoon he even drove me into the mountains past Boulder to show me the futuristic-looking house they used in the movie