Chapter 7: She Wanted the Title, Not the Scope

On Thursday morning I stood in the Beacon House lobby in a hard hat, as Kirk's guest.

Nine tradesmen and the general contractor's foreman filled the room, all in orange vests, waiting for the weekly coordination meeting.

At 9:05 Dylan walked in with Janie.

She had a new binder, bright green, and a laminated name tag that said Janie Lang, Lead Designer.

She saw me and her face lit up. "Sasha! You came."

"I'm Kirk's guest," I said.

"That's wonderful. Stay as long as you like."

She meant it. That made it worse.

Dylan put a hand on her back and walked her to the head of the plywood table.

"Janie's running the meeting," he told the room. "Please direct everything through her."

Kirk stood against a pillar with his arms crossed and said nothing.

I stood beside him and said nothing either.

The foreman cleared his throat.

He was a big, careful man with a gray mustache who had worked with me on this building every week.

"All right," he said. "Question one for the lead designer."

"The north stair comes through the third floor slab, where the old opening is narrow. Do we cut the slab, or does the curve change?"

Janie looked at her binder.

"We'll look at that," she said.

"We're pouring that landing Monday. Do we cut it?"

"I'll need to confirm with the team."

"Question two. The oak treads. The mill needs a template by Friday, or the order slips six weeks. Who signs off?"

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