Elena
"Elena, starting your own fashion line isn't a small thing. It requires money, serious money. Investors don't throw cash at beginners. Maybe you should work under someone else for a while. Gain more experience. Build a name. Then later you expand yourself."
Mr. Romano intertwined his hands on the desk, fixing his eyes on me. The thirty-eight-year-old man who had always carried himself with a certain flair, the kind that made you notice him in a room. His nails were painted a glossy black today, matching the crisp shirt tucked neatly into tailored trousers. Sometimes, I wondered if he enjoyed fashion more like a model than a coach, but it suited him.
"I'm sure I'll find one. And I can do it," I replied, pressing my lips into a thin line.
Mr. Romano held my gaze for a brief moment
