Chapter 298: Who Is She Really?

Hayley’s POV

Tanner led me down the hallway to a room at the very end. “You can make your adjustments here; the room is fully equipped. I’ll have my assistant, Teri Salvage, come by to help you shortly.”

I thanked him and stepped inside. The moment I entered, I saw the dress already being worn by the model. I walked over, examined it closely, and then picked up a pencil to make some notes on the design.

Teri’s POV:

I was in the middle of something when my boss suddenly appeared. “Mr. Southwell, you need something?” I asked respectfully.

Tammer waved his hand and said, “In a bit, go to Design Room 1 to assist. If you need anything, just grab it from the storage.”

I nodded and said, “Got it, Mr. Southwell.” As I turned to leave, he stopped me again. “Wait a moment. Pay close attention. Remember the changes she makes and tell me if anything goes wrong.”

I replied, “Yes, Mr. Southwell. I’ll head over now.” Surprised, I wondered what kind of person had made Tanner Southwell so invested?

When I arrived at Design Room 1, I was stunned to see a plain-looking woman tampering with Tanner’s dress. “Hey, what are you doing? That’s Mr. Southwell’s design! You must be new here—don’t you know no one is allowed to touch Mr. Southwell’s work?” I rushed over to stop her.

The woman frowned, as if thinking for a moment, and then asked, “Did Tanner send you here to assist me?”

I froze. This woman seemed like an amateur, but she had the nerve to address Mr. Southwell’s name directly. Who is she? How could she be so bold?

At that point, I realized that whoever she was, this woman wasn’t someone I should provoke. I quickly nodded. “Yes, Mr. Southwell sent me.”

She nodded casually and ordered, “Then hand me the scissors.” I understood and quickly grabbed the scissors, then handed them to her. “Here you go.”

She took them, glanced at the dress, and without hesitation, began cutting out the lining.

Chapter 298: Who Is She Really? (Continued)

In the design studio, no one dared touch Mr. Southwell’s work, yet this woman was cutting right into it. She was incredibly audacious!

With a calm expression, she explained, “The lining material isn’t right; it needs to be replaced. In a bit, go to the warehouse and bring me some thinner twilight veil fabric—just three feet, nothing more.”

I was still trying to process this, watching her with mixed feelings. She glanced at me and asked, “Is there a problem?”

Remembering the boss’s earlier instruction, I quickly nodded. “No problem. I’ll go get it right away.”

I rushed off. When I returned, I saw her examining the chest area of the dress. She had a needle and thread in hand and was already making alterations.

Within minutes, she had fixed the chest area in no time. Somehow, the dress seemed even more beautiful than before.

“Miss, I brought the twilight veil you asked for,” I said, my tone now more respectful, tinged with admiration.

She briefly looked up at me and said, “Just put it over there.” Then, she carefully put down her needle and thread, picked up the scissors again, and sliced off the hem of the skirt with a swift motion.

Her movements were so fluid, like a dance, that I didn’t dare blink, afraid of missing something important. “Hand me the white number 2 thread,” she said. I snapped out of my daze and hurried to fetch it for her.

She took it, measured a bit, and started sewing. Throughout the process, she spoke very little, but her efficiency was remarkable.

At one point, I went to the break room to get some water. Just as I took a sip, I was startled to find Mr. Southwell standing beside me, having appeared without me noticing.

He asked with a serious tone, “How’s it going in there?”

I jumped in surprise and quickly replied, “Everything’s fine, no problem.”

But Mr. Southwell pressed, “I’m not asking about that. I mean, how’s the dress? Is it ruined beyond repair?”