I was a perfect opening. I smiled sharp and picked up the sleek remote from the table. "Let me show you." With a click, the big smart board behind me lit up brighter. It switched from my gala photos to a clean slideshow I had prepped—simple sketches and mock-ups from my laptop, pulled straight from OG Emily's design files but twisted with my own fresh ideas. No fancy tech overload, just clear, exciting stuff anyone could grasp.
First slide popped up—a simple black cocktail dress. "This one's basic wool with hidden thermo-chrome threads—early smart fabric tech from labs. It shifts from matte black to deep red when you get warm under lights. Perfect for evening events—no more boring outfits that fade in photos." The image zoomed on the fabric close-up, threads glowing subtle like embers. I pointed. "Affordable luxury. Customers love how it feels normal but surprises them—a perfect wear for a party."
Hellen's eyes went wide. "That's so cool. It moves like magic!"
Next slide—a full runway gown in soft blue silk. "Here, sustainable silk from bamboo and recycled plastics. Light as air, drapes perfect on anybody. No harm to oceans or trees—we pull waste and turn it gorgeous." I flicked to a 3D mock-up spinning slow, showing how it flowed. "For Fashion Week next year. Models wear it once; fans buy copies online same day."
Tyler scribbled notes fast. "Eco-friendly but high-end? Smart move—everyone's going green now."
I clicked again—men's line this time, a sharp gray suit. "Suits with built-in sensors. Tiny ones in the lining track your walk, adjust fit via phone app. No tailor visits. Busy guys in boardrooms get perfect shape every time." The board showed a before-after—baggy to sleek. "Ties into my stepbrother's tech side. Family team-up."
Faran lifted one eyebrow. He looked impressed but still not sure. "Those designs sound good and useful. But with all the family fights in the news, can you really get this done?"
"Just watch me," I said with a quick wink. I kept my voice calm and strong, like a real boss. "These ideas are not just in my head. They are real. Production starts very soon. The first samples will be in stores by this fall. And that's only the beginning. I have many more simple designs. They are for everyday people—just like you, me, and everyone watching at home."
Tyler leaned forward a little, his head tilted to one side. "That's a nice plan. But high fashion always costs too much money. Most regular people can't buy a dress that costs thousands of dollars."
"You are right," I said with a nod. I picked up the small remote from the table. The big screen behind me changed right away. It showed new pictures—ideas I drew by myself that very morning on my laptop. These came from my own mind. Nothing from the old Leonhart collection. All fresh, easy, and smart.
"What are you going to do about that?"
"That's why I am starting a whole new line called Leonhart Everyday. These are cheap clothes for people on tight budgets. No hard work to keep them nice. Take a look."
The first picture filled the screen—a plain white cotton T-shirt. It had secret stretch parts inside. "This T-shirt—it's made from soft cotton mix. You can wash it any time in your machine. No need to iron it. The stretch makes it fit anyone—moms wearing jeans or skinny girls. It always looks clean and sharp." The screen showed the shirt on different women—one curvy mom, one slim teen, one in the middle. All looked great. Simple and basic, but pretty.
Hellen smiled wide. She moved her chair closer to see better. "I really like this one. It works perfect for busy real-life days."
The next picture came up—a loose dress in dark navy linen. "This dress's linen is light and from farms that grow it green—no harm to the earth. Wash it cold in the machine, then hang it to dry. No dry cleaners or special soap needed. It comes in all sizes, from extra small to 4X big. Good for beach walks, office days, or fun dates."
The picture turned slow on the screen. You could see how the cloth hung soft and natural on the model.
Faran nodded his head a little, thinking. "Cheap but fancy? That's a brave move for a big name like Leonhart."
"It's smart business," I said right back. "There are so many customers waiting—busy moms rushing kids to school, college students on small money." A quick memory hit me—dirty aprons tied tight, big dreams while pouring coffee cups all day. "We do high-price fancy stuff and low-price everyday stuff from now on."
More pictures filled the screen one by one—cozy hoodies with zip pockets for your phone, jeans with easy adjustable waists, simple canvas sneakers with extra soft insides. Every piece was made for easy cleaning and to match with anything else. "Each one has a clear tag that says exactly how to wash and care for it. The hems are strong—they last forever. Buy it once, wear it every day without worry."
They all made happy sounds, nodding along. Tyler pulled out his phone quick and took pictures of the screen to save them. Everyone seemed excited. Then—
Out of nowhere, something soft and warm touched my ankle under the table. A low purr started, like a tiny engine. I peeked down fast. It was an orange stray cat—scruffy fur, cute face—rubbing back and forth on my fancy red-bottom heel.
How did this cat even get into the studio? Its green eyes looked straight up at me. The tail waved slow and happy.
I tried hard to ignore it. I kept talking, answering Tyler's question about when the clothes would launch. But the cat would not stop. It nudged my leg harder and harder.
A quiet meow came out. Then its full cheek pressed right against my calf. The soft fur tickled my skin even through the pants. The strong purr shook all the way up my leg, making it hard to sit still.
The three interviewers saw it too. Hellen let out a soft gasp. She reached under the table with a napkin, waving it like the cat was a bad bug. "Shoo, go away, kitty!" Tyler shook his pen at it from his side, no luck. Faran just sat there frozen, his nose starting to sniff from his allergy. He rubbed it quick.
But the cat did not care about them at all. It kept staring up at me with big, sad eyes—like a little lost puppy trapped in cat fur. Its whiskers shook a bit. The tiny paws pressed soft on my shoe, kneading like dough.
My heart melted super-fast. Back in my barista days, I always sneaked food scraps to strays behind the coffee shop. No one else cared about those lonely little things, just like no one cared much about me then. I could not hold back anymore.
Right in the middle of my sentence, I bent down smooth and graceful. I scooped the cat up into my arms. It snuggled in right away, curling up tight. The purr got loud like a big motor. It bumped its head hard on my chin, loving the touch.
I held it close to my chest, burying my face deep in the fluffy orange fur. It felt so warm and a little dirty-sweet, like fresh rain on pavement. The rumbling purr washed all my stress away in seconds.
"Hey there, good boy," I whispered soft, stroking its back with slow fingers. All the tension from the interview just melted. For that one moment, it was pure happy quiet.
Then—crash. Reality hit like cold water. The red "LIVE" light was still glaring bright on the camera. The cameras kept rolling. The screen behind me still showed my clothing designs glowing big. I froze solid. The cat's paws were kneading happy on my blazer. I looked up very slow.
Their faces were shocked stiff. Hellen's mouth hung wide open, her hand stuck frozen in the air from trying to shoo. Tyler's pen fell right off the table, clink, his eyes huge like saucers. Faran blinked over and over fast, his note half-written and forgotten.
"Fuck," I said.