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"She's furious already," Ember whispers across the conference table, "Why else would she call a board meeting at nine in the morning if she didn't want our heads on a platter?"

Fox rolls his eyes and leans forward. "Will you relax?" he huffs. "Stick to the plan. That's all you need to do."

Ember shakes her head, leaning back in her chair while the rest of the design team scrambles through various scattered designs. "She won't give us a chance, Fox! The last time this happened, she had half of the forecasting team on a spike."

"I know how to work her," Fox states confidently. "Let her talk and then offer her the solution. We can do this."

Another team member scoffs, holding up a sketch with a furrowed brow. "No offence, but I doubt she will give you the time to offer a solution." He grunts. "We're proposing she poaches an existing brand. I bet any money she's more offended than angry."

"It is what it is right now," Fox neatens his suit jacket and swallows. "We don't have much choice other than to carry her lack of satisfaction."

Ember scans the conference room, settling over the empty seat at the head of the table where Scarlet will soon be sitting. Typically, the team looks forward to presenting their latest concepts. Today, however, not a single voice in the room is willing to take responsibility for the mess that presents before them.

Fox knows Scarlet is out for blood, and after a successful trip to Dubai, her desire for perfection is at an all-time high. He sits back anxiously, awaiting the woman's presence with the slim hope that her dinner date last night was enough to soften the blow of the failed portfolio brief. Harlow's short 'beware' text didn't give him much confidence, and now, with the notion of a scolding, he can't help but wish himself in another dimension.

The door slams open, and soon enough, the anxiously awaited CEO tears her way towards the head of the table. Spines straighten as the waft of her intense perfume drowns, the scent of air freshener, the sound of heels and the swishing of her dress all add to the furious woman disposition. 

"Somebody better start talking. NOW!" she snarls, slamming the portfolio in her palm against the table with a loud bang. She refuses to sit, towering above her team with pinned-back shoulders and a simmering rage only moments away from being unleashed. "I will not ask again."

Fox clears his throat, grabbing the knot of his tie before standing hesitantly. "We have evaluated the outcome of the concept brief and discussed the unfortunate parallel that our opposing company is debuting in Paris this weekend." his tone trails into a faint murmur. "We never intended to draw any similarities, and we are prioritising a resubmission as a matter of urgency."

Scarlet bites her lower lip, a subtle but calculated gesture underlining her thinning patience. "Unfortunate parallel," she repeats, her chin jutting upward. "You're actually going to stand there and undermine the severity of this brief with the justification of a coincidence?" The room plunges into an uneasy stillness as her bright eyes flicker with a dangerous glint. 

"We had no way of telling-

"Sit down, Fox!" Scarlet spits, forcing the man back into his seat with a fallen gaze. Her eyes meet the rest of the team, inspecting their guilty expressions before leaning into the table with a vicious scowl. "I made sure to consult with trend forecasting the moment I caught a glimpse of this brief, and they assured me that adequate forecasting was provided before brainstorming began." The gravity of her words hangs in the air. "So I'll say it again. Somebody better start talking. NOW!"

The room shrinks into an unsettling silence. Tension thickens, choking the atmosphere as guilty glances are exchanged amongst the team. Just as all hope for truth begins to shatter, the standing of an experienced face permits all to calm, the pressure of speaking now off for a moment or two.

SCARLET MEETS MILAWhere stories live. Discover now