"Whhhoa."

"Grace, be careful," Joey said for the umpteenth time that day. She'd always told her assistant not to wear high heel shoes and tight skirts to the construction sites they visit but her advice fell on deaf ears. Grace was more pre-occupied with looking for a hunk of a boyfriend than listening to her.

The head builder saw them approaching and met them halfway. "Ms Potter?" he asked.

She nodded and shook his outstretched hand.

"Jake Owen."

"Thank you for seeing us so soon, Mr. Owen."

"If we're going to work together, I'd prefer you call me Jake."

"Please call me Joey then." She indicated her assistant who had stopped to adjust the strap on her shoe. "That's my assistant, Grace Adams."

The latter waved her hand slightly to acknowledge the introduction as Owen eyed her unsuitable attire. In contrast, Joey was dressed in a comfortable top under her coat, loose pants and loafers.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Lead the way."

She stood with her arms crossed, taking in every bit of detail of the almost-finished section of the restaurant. Amid the construction that was still going on, she was calmly pondering over colors and design. Except for her having to yell to be heard above the noise by Grace, who was noting down materials to be ordered, she appeared not one bit flustered by the chaos about her.

"Did you get that?"

Grace grimaced as she kept one hand over her ear.

"How's it going?" Owen asked, approaching them.

"Great."

"Good," he said. "The architect in charge-"

The rest of his sentence was blocked out by a combination of the tractors from across the street and the racket indoors.

She tried to lip-read and managed to catch the gist of what he had been saying.

"We'll be meeting with the architects at their office later this afternoon. Whatever questions I have will be answered then," she told him.

"Do you know the man's name?" Grace asked.

"It's funny how it never came up earlier," she mused. "Jake Owens mentioned it but above all that noise, I could only catch the guy's first name. I think it was some fancy initials, K.C. or something."

She stirred her third cup of coffee that day and mentally noted that her next dose of the black liquid had better be decaf. Grace and her had gone back to their office to change into more formal suits to meet with their partners on the project and were now waiting for them in their conference room.

A lady and a young man who looked like he was still an understudy walked in first and stood behind their seats. Joey felt someone brush past behind her to get the front of the table and guessed that it would be the head architect. She stood up and was all ready to offer a handshake when their eyes met.

"Miss Potter, I presume."

In that instant she looked into his eyes and heard him speak, she froze. She was shell-shocked to say the least. She couldn't seem to move a single part of her body.

"Miss Potter, I'm Pacey Witter. These are my assistants, Jessie Ryder and Barry Kaufman.

Grace waited for her to be introduced but when it didn't come, she leaned in closer. "Joey," she whispered and nudged with an elbow. She couldn't get a reaction so she cleared her throat and took the initiative. "This is Joey Potter, she's in charge. I'm Grace Adams."

Everyone nodded greetings and took their seats. Everyone but Joey, who still hadn't stirred. Grace tugged at her arm. She had to drag her shocked eyes away from his already-turned face but she didn't take her seat. Instead, she stumbled slightly and mumbled an excuse to go to the ladies'. Once outside, she fell back against the wall and gasped for breath.

"Miss Potter, is everything all right?" The receptionist had hurried around her position behind her desk to get to her. "You look like you're about to faint."

"I'm fine," she managed to reply in a weak voice. "Could you just point me toward the ladies' room, please?"

"Joey?"

Grace got off her knees and started banging on the cubicle door. "You've been gone for a long time. I'm afraid the others are getting impatient." She heard a click and the door opened slightly under her knuckles. She pushed it aside and saw her superior sitting on the toilet.

"What is going on?"

"Nothing."

"And that is why you're pondering over life's mysteries, sitting on top of the toilet while we're wanted for a meeting. I don't think Karen or Mr. Branden's going to be too happy about it."

Joey looked up. "Have you ever met someone you thought changed your life forever?"

Grace lowered herself, although it wasn't very easy in her skirt, to the latter's level. "Are you going to tell me that you know that gorgeous man back in the room?" she asked, although she had already made a wild guess.

Joey nodded.

She sighed. "Talk about fate."

"I don't believe in fate."

"Well I do and right now, I don't think it's going to wait very long." She took Joey's hand. "You're a professional and you can handle this. So let's haul our asses back before we get thrown off the project."

For all her outwardly eccentricities and imperfections, Joey had always admired Grace Adams for her dedication and consciousness when she was on the job. She herself had never let anything get in the way of work. Until today.

She nodded again. Her legs felt like jelly as she stood up and she grabbed onto Grace's shoulder before she fell over.

"Maybe we could postpone this," Grace suggested worriedly.

"I can do this," she insisted.

"I'm sorry about the delay. It's been a tough week at the office and I must have been more tired than I thought." She glanced at him and then smiled ruefully at his assistants. "This is really embarrassing."

Jessie was quick to rescue her. "Oh no, don't be. Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, thank you."

She took her seat and her eyes remained on the glass of water in front of her until she was forced to look at him when he spoke to her.

"Should we begin?"

"By all means," she said softly.

An hour later, she had told Daphne enough for her to understand the situation but deliberately left out certain details.

"Therapy isn't always therapeutic," Daphne said after she was done listening to her former roommate's complicated past. "I almost regret making you tell me."

Joey scoffed at her lighthearted remark.

"Seriously though," she continued, sobering up. "What are going to do about it?"

"I don't have to do anything about it." She put her hands to her chest to emphasize her point and as though to convince herself of her will. "I'm a professional and professionals get their jobs done, in spite of the circumstances."

Daphne raised a brow. "And you don't have a problem with it?"

"No problem," she repeated.

"Because you're a professional."

"Because I'm a professional."

"And because you no longer love him."

"I-" She stopped short. "That isn't fair, Daphne," she muttered.

"Did you ever tell him?"

Joey shut her eyes and leaned her head back. "Yes," she could barely get the word out. "But he didn't hear me."

"And how did he feel about you?"

Her eyes fluttered open and began to tear slightly. "The truth?"

Daphne waited for her to continue.

"We were always careful not to say anything we shouldn't have said and that included how we felt about each other. But it wouldn't have mattered how he really felt because I would have stayed with him if I could."

A tear fell from her eye and she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.

"That summer was a tragedy because it made me realized I had walked into his life too late."

Daphne wrapped her arm around Joey's shoulder and the latter leaned her head onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Joey," she said sympathetically.

She sniffled. "Then why don't you ever ask the simple questions?" she asked.

"I would if I knew the easy answers."

Grace thanked Pacey's secretary and took the carton of coffee cups and box of pastries from her. She laid them on the side table and took in the disheveled state of everyone in the room. The men's ties had been loosened until they were hanging lifelessly on their necks and their jackets thrown carelessly over the backs of their chairs. The women seemed a little more unperturbed but Jessie's once-neat chignon was fraying and Joey's suit was starting to crinkle. She herself was walking without shoes.

Joey started to collect her hair in a ponytail at her nape before she remembered that she had chopped off her locks on a moment of impulse soon after her birthday. Maybe turning thirty was bothering her more than she knew. Her fingers moved to push her black frames further up the bridge of her nose instead as she pored over the blueprints spread out in front of her. But her attention wandered and she found herself looking at him from the corner of her eye.

He had put on his gold-framed glasses soon after they had started and she had been unable to conceal her slight surprise. "Eyestrain," he had explained. "Me too," she had said about herself. Taking them off, he massaged the bridge of his nose before wearing them again. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head and caught her looking.

She hastily turned back to her work.

"Jessie," he finally said. "Miss Potter and I have something to discuss in my office." He stood up and took her elbow lightly. "We won't be long."

Joey didn't want to be alone with him but he wasn't forceful and his eyes told her that she didn't have to go if she didn't want to.

"We'll be right back," she directed at Grace after a moment's hesitation.

They didn't say a word to each other until they were in his office and the door was shut behind them. He stayed by the door while she walked into the middle of the room and took in his décor. Or perhaps, she was just trying to avoid looking at him.

She stopped short when she saw what was on his wall. She walked closer to it.

"I did say you were going to make it."

She touched her framed picture gently. "I wasn't sure that you were going to like it."

"I never got a chance to say thank you."

"It wasn't much."

"Yes it was."

Her fingers paused and her hand fell back to her side. "I never imagined that you would become an architect."

"Neither did you imagine that you would ever see me again."

"Don't tell me you didn't think the same," she retorted. For an instant, the Joey he knew so well was present.

"You had your hair cut lately."

"How would you know?"

"I was at the birthday party your mother-in-law gave for you," he replied nonchalantly.

"What?" She swirled around and stumbled in her haste.

He kept his hands in his pockets and walked over to the desk. "There's no reason why we have to remain hostile toward each other."

It sank in. "You started this! You had the head start. You knew we were going to be partners and you chose to pretend like we'd never met in our lives." She shook her head and walked up to the door angrily but was stopped by a hand to her arm. "Let go of me," she warned in a low voice.

His voice was calm and sincere. "It was my fault. I'm sorry." She didn't release her grip on the doorknob but he knew she was at least listening because she wasn't struggling. "I admit I didn't know how to go about this at first but I definitely don't want it to go this way. I was confused. How do you treat someone you've shared so much with that you never thought you'd see again?"

She couldn't look him in the eye. "How do you?" she mumbled.

"Could I at least give an old friend a hug?"

Her gaze shot up to his face and she knew that he meant it. She let go of the doorknob and she found her arms going around him.

"Thank you, Joey," he whispered in relief. It was the first time he had said her name since they met again.

She felt like crying.

To be continued…

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