The designers were already waiting when I arrived at the manufacturing department.
The second I walked in, several heads turned.
A few people checked the time discreetly.
Right.
Late.
I exhaled and forced a professional smile onto my face.
“Sorry, everyone.”
The apology came automatically as I walked toward the large table covered in sketches, fabric samples, measurements, and prototype pieces.
“Morning traffic?” one of the designers joked.
I almost laughed.
If only.
“Something like that.”
Nobody pushed further.
Thankfully.
Because I didn’t have the energy to explain that I overslept, forgot breakfast, forgot painkillers, and currently felt like someone was repeatedly knocking against the inside of my skull with a hammer.
The presentation started immediately.
One mannequin
