In just under an hour, Élan G had already received several calls from clients’ assistants asking about the brand’s official stance. Thankfully, none of them had gone as far as to cancel their orders.
After hanging up the last call, Clara turned to Grace. “You need to get out of here—fast. If they surround you and figure out who you are, your anonymity’s gone.”
Grace didn’t even look up from the documents she was reviewing. “Too late. Press is already outside—front and back.”
“What?” Clara went pale. “And you’re still this calm? Weren’t you dead set on staying anonymous as the brand’s designer? Or did you think of a way to fight back? Please tell me you’ve got sketches dated before that so-called designer’s.”
Grace lifted her gaze. “I don’t.”
Clara blinked. “Then why are you so calm?”
