ROOSEVELT POV

"These numbers are wrong, Nixie," I said, tapping my pen against the file on my desk.

Nixie sighed heavily and dropped into the chair across from me, she was wearing a black blazer, but she had applied a thick layer of foundation over her left cheek, I could still see the faint, dark shadow of a bruise underneath.

"I know they are wrong, Rose," Nixie groaned, rubbing her temples. "The client is trying to cut the budget by thirty percent. Mr. Conti wants the luxury marble, but he wants to pay for cheap tile."

"We do not use cheap tile," I said firmly. "This is Vance Architecture and...