Page 65 of Ruthless Vengeance
“I’m honestly starting to think that childbirth might be the easier choice here.”
Rosa chuckles under her breath as she smooths her hands over the skirt of her homecoming dress. We decided she should wear that, and I will hang the other one on the mannequin that will be provided.
“You’re going to rock this. Your work is amazing.”
I nod, even though my hands are visibly shaking. “All I have to do is smile, remember to breathe, and let the dresses speak for themselves.”
Rosa beams. “Exactly! See? You’ve already got the fashion school mindset.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Pretend you have all the confidence in the world even when you’re dying inside.”
I huff a small laugh as I grip onto the garment bag in my lap to try and keep my hands steady. But when my phone pings in my purse, I almost jump out of my skin, which causes Rosa to howl with laughter.
I’m glad one of us is enjoying this.
I almost drop my phone as I fish it out of my purse, my fingers trembling too much to work properly.
It’s a text from Marco.
My body relaxes and I take a deep breath as I read the message on the screen.
Marco
I’m not going to wish you luck because you don’t need it. This is your dream. Go get it so we can celebrate later. x
I can’t deny I was a little disappointed to learn that he couldn’t be here to wait with me.
After dropping Rosa and me in the city, he had to head straight to an important meeting that he couldn’t reschedule, but he promised to make it up to me later.
I smile at the message before switching my phone on silent.
Marco’s right. I’ve wanted this for so long, so I refuse to let my nerves ruin this moment.
A minute later, the door to the interview room opens, and a woman with dark crimson hair and thick black glasses pokes her head out, scanning the hallway before locking eyes with me.
“Clara Peterson?” She smiles. “We’re ready for you now.”
I nod as I get to my feet, clutching the garment bag like it’s my lifeline.
“Go kill it.” Rosa squeezes my arm.
I take another breath before walking into the interview room with Rosa behind me, telling myself over and over that I can do this.
My heart pounds in my chest as I set up my second design on the mannequin, feeling the eyes of the three panelists boring into my back. A thin sheen of sweat covers the back of my neck and hands, but it’s too late to back out now.
Thinking of Zoe and the future I want to give her, I plaster a confident smile on my face and turn to face the panelists.
The panel listens intently as I introduce my designs. Their eyes are sharp, taking in every stitch, every fold of fabric, every tiny detail I agonized over for hours.
One of the panelists, a tall, elegant woman with white-blonde hair, gets to her feet and walks over to Rosa. She traces her fingers over the hem of the dress, her red-painted mouth pursed.
“Incredible,” she murmurs, and I almost cry with relief. “It’s bold and edgy… Yet, there’s a softness to it. It’s hard to pull off such a balance, but it works. This dress really tells a story.”
Rosa looks like she’s going to explode with excitement, and I quickly shoot her a look to remind her to keep her mouth shut.
“That’s exactly what I was going for.” I try to keep my voice steady.
