When Olivia entered the conference room, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The designers straightened in their seats, their notebooks open and tablets ready. They had been working tirelessly, but Olivia could sense the tension in the room—the kind that always lingered when a project wasn't going well.
"Alright," Olivia began, taking her seat at the head of the table. "Let's see what you've prepared."
One by one, the designers presented their sketches and concepts. Some were bold, others elegant, but as Olivia flipped through the designs, her expression remained unreadable. The room grew heavy with anticipation, everyone waiting for her verdict.
Finally, Olivia closed the last folder and set it aside. She looked up, her sharp eyes scanning the group. "These designs," she said slowly, "aren't good enough."
The silence that followed was deafening. A few designers exchanged nervous glances, while others lowered their eyes to avoid her piercing gaze.
"They lack originality," Olivia continued, her voice steady but firm. "There's nothing here that makes a statement. Fashion Week is not about playing it safe—it's about standing out, about making people remember our name the moment the models step onto the runway. If you present these," she tapped the folder lightly, "you'll fade into the background."
Her words stung, but they were true. The designers shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Finally, one of them, a young man with tired eyes, spoke up.
"With all due respect, Ms. Bennett… if the rival company hadn't stolen our designs, we wouldn't be forced into this situation. We put so much effort into those original pieces. These are rushed, because we had to start over."
Murmurs of agreement spread through the room. The frustration and disappointment of losing their work was still raw, and Olivia could feel it pressing against her like a wave.
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. Her tone softened slightly, but her words carried just as much weight. "I understand how hard it must have been to lose those designs. It was unfortunate, and I don't deny the injustice of it. But tell me—what can we do about it now?"
No one spoke.
"Nothing," Olivia said firmly, answering her own question. "We can't rewind time, and we can't undo what was stolen. If we dwell on the past, it will hinder our future. Do you want to be remembered as the team who complained about theft, or as the team who rose above it and created something better?"
Her words hung in the air. Slowly, one by one, the designers nodded. Their frustration began to melt into determination.
"Good," Olivia said, her voice softening further. "Now go back, rethink these designs, and bring me something fresh. Something bold. Don't recycle what's already been taken—create something no one can steal."
"Yes, Ms. Bennett," they replied almost in unison.
Satisfied, Olivia stood. "I'll be expecting updates within two days. Meeting dismissed."
As the designers filed out, Grace caught Olivia's eye, admiration clear on her face. "You really know how to push people in the right direction."
Olivia gave her a faint smile. "That's the only way they'll grow."
The next meeting was with the suppliers. By the time Olivia entered the room, a new set of people were already waiting—fabric merchants, logistics coordinators, and venue managers.
They discussed material delays, fabric shortages, and the logistics of transporting everything on time. Olivia was direct, cutting through excuses and asking for solutions. When a supplier mentioned delays in fabric delivery due to import issues, she immediately countered with alternatives.
"Then find local substitutes," Olivia said firmly. "If it's a matter of timing, we don't have the luxury to wait. Quality is important, but so is punctuality. This show will not be delayed because of fabric."
Another supplier hesitated about rising costs. Olivia's gaze sharpened. "Handle it. Negotiate, cut unnecessary expenses elsewhere if you must. This project doesn't have room for weak links."
By the end of the meeting, everyone looked exhausted, but they also looked focused. Olivia's no-nonsense approach left no room for doubt.
The day stretched on. Olivia and Grace spent hours in Olivia's office, sorting through reports, analyzing schedules, and reordering priorities. The stack of files seemed endless, but slowly, order began to emerge from the chaos.
When Grace glanced at the clock, it was already 8 p.m. She rubbed her tired eyes and looked at Olivia. "It's late… maybe we should stop here for today?"
Olivia shook her head without looking up from the document she was reviewing. "You go home, Grace. Get some rest. I'll finish organizing these files before I leave."
"But what about you?" Grace asked with concern.
"I'll be fine. I just need a little more time," Olivia replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Grace sighed but gathered her things. "Alright… but don't stay too late. You'll burn yourself out."
"I'll manage," Olivia said simply.
When Grace left, Olivia continued to work. The office was quiet now, the hum of the air conditioner and the scratching of her pen the only sounds. Hours seemed to blur together as she reviewed each file, her focus razor-sharp.
At 9 p.m., Aiden finally left his office, stretching his stiff shoulders. As he walked down the corridor, he noticed the faint glow spilling from Olivia's office. He frowned slightly—most employees had already left, yet her light was still on.
Curious, he walked over and knocked on her door.
Olivia looked up, startled, then blinked in confusion. "Mr. Ashford?"
He stepped inside, his tall frame filling the doorway. "Why are you still here?"
"I'll go home after some time," she said, turning back to her files.
His eyes narrowed slightly. After some time, he asked, "You haven't had dinner yet, have you?"
"No," Olivia replied without looking at him, her pen still moving across the page.
Aiden hesitated. For a moment, he seemed almost awkward, a rare sight for the usually composed CEO. Then, in a voice lower than usual, he asked, "Do you… Want to have dinner together?"
Olivia froze, her pen pausing mid-sentence. She looked up at him, surprised. "Dinner? With you?"
A faint flush crept onto Aiden's ears. He cleared his throat, already regretting the impulsive question. "Forget it. It was a—"
"Okay," Olivia interrupted.
He blinked at her, surprised. "You'll come?"
She stood, gathering her things. "Yes. But you're paying."
For the first time that day, Aiden chuckled. "Fine."
As they stepped into the elevator together, Olivia sighed dramatically. "Good. I'm starving."
Aiden pressed the button for the parking level, sneaking a sidelong glance at her. He wasn't used to this side of Olivia—casual, almost playful—and it unsettled him in a strangely pleasant way.
When they reached the parking lot, Aiden gestured toward his sleek black car. "Let's take mine."
Olivia nodded. "Fine. I'm in no mood to drive."
The ride was quiet but not uncomfortable. Eventually, Aiden pulled into a high-end restaurant, one that catered to private clients. A valet greeted them at the entrance, and they were led into a private room decorated with warm lighting, elegant furniture, and soft classical music playing in the background.
Olivia looked around, impressed. "Not bad."
"Only the best," Aiden replied simply, pulling out a chair for her before taking his own seat.
They browsed the menu together, occasionally debating over dishes.
The food arrived, and as they ate, the atmosphere softened. Their conversation was light—about the chaos of the week, the challenges of leadership, and even small personal preferences neither had shared before. For a man known for his cold, dominating nature, Aiden seemed almost… human tonight.
When dinner ended, Aiden leaned back, watching Olivia with an unreadable expression. "Give me your address."
She blinked. "Why?"
"So I can drop you off at home. Unless you're planning on sleeping in your office."
Olivia hesitated, then gave him the address. The drive back was quiet, but not in an awkward way. When they reached her apartment, Olivia stepped out and looked at him through the open window.
"Thanks for dinner," she said.
Aiden nodded. "Get some rest."
She gave him a faint smile before turning toward her building. He watched her until she disappeared inside, then drove away into the night, his thoughts unexpectedly occupied by her.