Page 34 of Bad Things Come in Threes

“I’m going to be criticizing my workers. The last thing that they need is their faults being aired. I wouldn’t do that to them.”

“I asked if they were okay with it before I came here.” I arched a brow and crossed my hands over my chest, “I can assure you that you won’t even realize we are there. And if we are being annoying, say the word and we’ll leave.”

“Fine,” I huffed, “But if you piss me off, you’re done.”

“Deal,”

Nathan and another man followed me downstairs to where the seamstresses were. I tried my best to ignore and tune them out.

I knew they were looking at me curiously when I stood outside the work stations for five minutes before walking in. It is a routine thing and it was weird to do with people watching but seeing as they didn’t ask for an explanation, I didn’t offer one. Although I’m not sure I would have offered one even if they asked. I know for a fact that Nathan would ask for one during our session.

When I was done, I went through each work station and inspected the dresses and how far they had gone. Most of them actually did a decent job. The sketches were followed to almost perfection. A few of them improvised and I actually liked some of the improvisations.

I encourage my workers to be creative. What I decide might not always be what’s best, and if they think they have a better idea, they are welcome to go for it. The catch is, if I hate it, you’re going to beon the receiving end of a possible meltdown; especially, if it is for an event like this where we have limited supplies and limited time.

Luckily for everyone involved, there were only two people who had to restart their work. Well luckily for everyone except them. They didn’t have serious issues; the first girl had crooked stitches along the sides of the dress, and the second girl had one of the sleeves shorter than the other.

They were issues that could have been easily fixed or overlooked by customers but the fashion world is cutthroat. A critic could see it and that would be the biggest scandal of the year. It would make headlines for at least a week.

And this isn’t just any fashion show; it is a very prestige one and I’d be damned if I will let even a tiny mistake slip undetected through the cracks. People already think I don’t deserve to be at this show. They will have their eyes peeled out for even the slightest mistake so they can use it as proof that I am not worthy.

“Can any of you tell me what’s wrong with these two?” I asked both girls and they had identical looks of concern as they glanced at each other.

I gave them a full five minutes to inspect the outfits and come up with a response. I could easily tell them, but that just defeats the entire purpose of them learning where they messed up. If someone always points out your mistakes then you’ll never learn.

They stood up straight and kept their gazes to the floor. Translation: they don’t know what they did wrong.

I looked around the room but everyone avoided looking my way. They all pretended to be busy while keeping an ear out and listening to what was going on.

I noticed a girl chewing on her fingers to my right. I recognized her instantly as Hannah, the girl who gave me her sketch a few days ago. She was eyeing the dresses with pristine attention and she kept muttering a few words under her breath.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” I asked and her eyes snapped to mine. She stumbled over her words and I sighed deeply, “It was a yes or no question, Hannah.”

“The sides and the sleeves.” She offered with a little more confidence and I hummed in approval, “Also, I can see some thread sticking out from the hem that wasn’t trimmed off properly.”

I honestly didn’t notice that, “Thank you, Hannah.” She beamed as if she had gotten the compliment of a lifetime and I turned to both girls.

“I can sew straighter in my sleep and I know you can too because I have seen you do better. I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t think you couldn’t do better. I’ll excuse the mistakes as an oversight due to the amount of stress that everyone is going through because of the deadline.”

“I don’t want to see a mistake like this on the finished product. I gave everyone the liberty of picking the outfits they wanted to sew and you chose this one. If you can’t do it then now would be a good time to say it.”

I gave them a full minute to back out if they wanted to. I won’t fire them for it and they know that. I usually pick the best out of all my seamstresses to work on events like this. During the working months, they have a raise because they’re doing a lot more work than the others.

If they back out now, they wouldn’t get the raise that they should and they would go back to working on the normal clothes that wemake for the stores. The only problem is that for the next event, they would have to work twice as hard because I will not pick someone who would easily back out.

They both stayed quiet so I continued, “If there’s a mistake like this on the final product, it would be best for you if you just handed in a letter of resignation. Are we clear?”

“Yes Adira,” they said simultaneously and I gave them a warm smile.

“That’s all for today.”

Everyone scurried back to their work tables and both girls instantly went to fixing what I had pointed out.

I noticed Nathan and the other guy watching me with various looks that I didn’t care to discern. I left everyone to their business and got to the door of my office when Marissa stopped me.

“Hannah gave me her sketch to give to you earlier. It’s on your table.”

As Marissa spoke, I started to wonder why she didn’t give it to me herself, but then I realized that she probably didn’t want to seem like an overachiever to her coworkers downstairs.

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