Chapter 1340:

Silence settled over the conference room. The managers exchanged uneasy glances. What exactly was Melany’s authority here? Could a newly appointed executive director actually override them?

Fleming pushed back from his chair and stood abruptly. “If you’re so certain, then you handle this collection yourself. I’m done. I’m tired of putting in extra hours for people who don’t appreciate it—I need a break.”

Melany replied without missing a beat. “If you want out, send Alyssa an email. She’ll give you the green light.”

The meeting dissolved on a tense note. Fleming left first, followed closely by two other managers, both wearing the stiff expressions of men convinced of their own indispensability.

Alyssa stood and pulled Melany into a quick embrace. “You’ve changed so much—so composed. I could almost applaud you.”

Melany returned a small smile. “This is Rylie’s domain. I’d rather leave a position vacant than create problems with the wrong hire.”

“I know,” Alyssa said, sighing. “But the headhunters keep sending candidates exactly like these—years of experience, overconfident, and completely unwilling to listen.”

She gestured at the drafts still scattered across the table. “I’ve met every woman from this auction. Most of them are reasonable—except for one.”

𝗧𝗵о𝘶𝗌𝖺𝗻d𝘴 𝗈𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝖺𝖽𝗲𝗿𝗌 о𝘯 𝗴𝘢𝘭𝗇𝘰𝘃𝘦𝘭𝘴.cоm

She retrieved a document from the pile and handed it over. “Mrs. Kennedy has impossibly high standards and catches every minor detail. I genuinely don’t know how to handle her, but…” She paused. “You might be the only one who can.”

It was her first real assignment back at the company—a prime opportunity to establish herself. Melany accepted the document. “I’ll handle it. But why are there so few designs for the other women?”

“Those were managed by the designers each regional manager brought in,” Alyssa explained.

Melany considered it for a moment. “Think back to how we started. Regardless of title, every designer sat in the same room and sketched together. The strongest work rose to the top on its own merit. That approach shouldn’t have changed. New hires and mid-level designers need to be in the mix.”

Alyssa was quiet as it sank in, and then something shifted in her expression. “You’re right. I’ve been running myself into the ground and letting these regional managers walk all over me.”

Melany laughed softly. “Don’t worry about it—I’ll take care of Mrs. Kennedy. Can you make time for dinner tonight?”

Alyssa’s eyes brightened immediately. “Perfect timing, actually. There’s a dinner event tonight—come with me. I’m exhausted, and I could use the backup.”

“What kind of dinner?” Melany asked.

Alyssa straightened the papers on the table with a quiet exhale. “It’s hosted by a group of senior fabric import-export executives from the Crolens Chamber of Commerce. They want to discuss long-term collaboration—but what they’re really after is leverage. They’ve decided that with Rylie distracted by a new baby and stepping back from Sweetberry over the past two years, now is the right moment to push for higher prices.”

Melany’s brows drew together. “Higher prices?”

“Exactly,” Alyssa said, pulling a stack of invitations from the drawer and handing one across. “When Rylie was actively running things, they wouldn’t have dreamed of trying this. But they know I’m the one leading now, and they think they can pressure us into giving in. They’ve been insisting on this meeting for weeks—there’s no way to say no without making things worse.”

Melany examined the invitation—a private club in Crolens, seven o’clock that evening. She was quiet for a moment. “Alright. I’ll go with you.”

Alyssa’s eyes widened briefly before a laugh slipped out. “Of course—you’re the executive director now. Sooner or later, you’d have to face this anyway.” She hesitated, then added with a note of genuine concern, “But be careful. They don’t hold back.”

“Don’t worry.” Melany slid the invitation into her bag, her voice steady. “I’ve been through far harsher situations abroad.”

Alyssa kept her eyes on her, and a quiet wave of sorrow moved across her face. “But… has he heard that you’re back?”

.

.

.