Her Rules, Her Way – Part 1: Her Rules

Juliette Lavoie ran her studio the way she liked her coffee: strong, black and without discussion. Designers came in with ideas and left with instructions. Clients trusted her because she was never unsure.

Noa Benoit started on a rainy Monday in March and asked three questions in the first hour.

"What do you want from the library project?"

"Why this colour?"

"Would you like me to present it, or would you prefer to decide the layout yourself?"

Juliette looked up from her desk. "Nobody asks me what I want."

"I'm asking," said Noa calmly. "You can answer or not."

It was the first time in years that Juliette had been asked a question she didn't have a ready answer for. She took a long breath, put down her pen, and said, "I want you to present it, and I want to watch your face when you do."

"Why?"

"Because I like to see when someone is confident."

Noa smiled slightly. "Then I'll be confident. And you'll tell me the truth about the layout."

Over the next months, they worked side by side. Noa was precise, a little stubborn and very good at her job. She never flinched when Juliette pushed back. She simply asked why, and waited for the answer, and when Juliette was wrong, she said so with a directness that made Juliette want to laugh.

On a snowy evening in December, after the studio had emptied, Noa stayed behind with a file in her hands and two cups of tea.

"I've been thinking about something," she said. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes."

"You like to be in charge. I can see it in every meeting. But I wonder whether you'd like to be in charge of something that's just yours. Not the studio. Not the client. Your own rules."

Juliette stared at her. Her heart was beating in a way that made her throat tight.

"I've had a few relationships," she said slowly. "They were polite. They never asked what I actually wanted, and I never told them. It was easier to lead the conversation than to admit I didn't know."

"Then let's make a list," said Noa, reaching for a pen. "Your rules. Your way. And I'll tell you mine, so we both know where the lines are."

They sat at the drafting table, paper spread between them, and wrote for an hour. Juliette wrote I want to set the pace. Noa wrote I want to be asked before anything changes. Juliette wrote no marks I can't explain to a client. Noa wrote stop means stop, every time, without an argument.

"Green?" asked Noa, looking up.

Juliette looked at the list, and then at her, and felt something in her chest unlock.

"Green," she said. "Very green. Now ask me what I want."

"What do you want, Juliette?"

"You," said Juliette, and her voice shook just slightly. "If you're willing. And if you can handle me being unsure about the rest."

"I can handle that," said Noa, and smiled.