Each piece a masterpiece. Each frame a monument to standards I wasn't sure I could meet.
She sat behind her desk, reading glasses perched on her nose, a cup of tea steaming beside her. She looked up when I entered and gestured to the chair across from her.
"Sit. Show me."
No small talk. That was Greer.
I sat and my hands trembled as I opened my portfolio, and I prayed she didn't notice.
The first sketch—the asymmetrical jacket—stared up at me like an old friend.
Or an executioner.
I wasn't sure which.
I turned the portfolio around and slid it across the desk.
The first few pieces, she studied in silence. I watched her face for any reaction—a twitch, a frown, the slight raise of an eyebrow—but she gave me nothing.
Just those sharp eyes moving over my sketches, my fabric samples, my notes on construction and silhouette.
I wanted to throw up.
She turned a page. Then another.
Her fingers traced the edge of a fabric swatch—the Japanese wool I'd sourced from a tiny mill outside Kyoto.
Still nothing. No reaction. Just that infuriating, inscrutable silence.
My leg bounced beneath the desk. I forced it to stop.
"This one," she said finally, tapping a sketch of a structured jacket with asymmetrical closures. "Walk me through it."
So I did.
I talked about the inspiration—armor, protection, the idea of clothing as a shield that doesn't sacrifice beauty for strength. I talked about the fabric I'd sourced, the way it would move, the hardware I'd designed specifically for the closures.
I talked about the women I imagined wearing it—powerful women, fierce women, women who refused to choose between being soft and being strong.
Greer listened without interrupting.
Her expression remained neutral, but I noticed her fingers had stilled on the fabric swatch.
She was paying attention. Really paying attention.
When I finished, she was quiet for a long moment.
The clock ticked.
My heart pounded.
I was fairly certain I was about to pass out.
Then she removed her reading glasses and set them on the desk.
"This is the work you were afraid to show me," she said.
It wasn't a question.
