June’s Point of View
Deadlines blurred on my screen as my fingers flew across the keyboard. I was in full-on work mode, determined to finish early today. Belle and I were supposed to attend a party hosted by one of our most prestigious clients—Mr. Cleverio himself—and I didn’t want to be late. Especially not to a cruise party that reeked of luxury, elegance, and high society.
Mr. Cleverio wasn’t just any client. He was practically royalty in New York’s elite circles, and he made sure his whole family dressed like it. Every gala, awards night, charity ball—they wore Belle Couture. We were their personal designers now. So when he sent a gold-embossed invitation, saying no wasn’t an option. This was business, exposure, reputation.
A knock sounded softly on the glass panel of my office. Bel
