One Wild Night

Chapter 832 Team Meeting



832  Team Meeting

The insistent trill of the phone sliced through Amy’s restless sleep and dream. It wasn’t a dream filled with laughter and sunshine, but a restless one haunted by the echoing silence of Miley’s absence.  She fumbled for the phone, blinking away the remnants of the dream and the dull ache in her chest that had become a constant companion these past four days.

“Hello?” she rasped, her voice thick with sleep and grief.

“Amy, it’s Mom,” came her mother’s voice, laced with a tremor that mirrored the unease blooming in Amy’s stomach.

Amy sat up, fully awake now. “Hey, Mom. Everything alright? Why the early call?” She asked as she squinted at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was barely six on a Tuesday morning.

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line, then a sigh. “I just received an unexpected text.”

Amy’s stomach clenched. “Unexpected? From who?”

“Mrs. Garwood,” her mother confessed.

Amy’s breath hitched. Ever since the incident with Miley, all communication between them and the Garwoods had ceased. They were persona non grata, banished from Miley’s life and, it seemed, from her death as well.

“What did she want?” Amy asked, bracing herself for the worst.

“She… she asked me to tell you,” her mother fumbled, “that Miley’s funeral is tomorrow, Wednesday. And that we are welcome to attend.”

Amy’s numb heart lurched. A funeral? Miley? This couldn’t be real. “But… I thought they didn’t…” Her voice trailed off, unable to voice the accusation.

“I know, dear,” her mother interrupted gently. “I was just as surprised. Apparently, Mrs. Garwood… well, something changed her mind.”

Intrigue clawed at the edges Amy’s grief. What could have possibly caused such a turnabout? The Garwoods had been adamant about cutting all ties.

“Did you find out why?” Amy pressed.

There was another pause, longer this time. “I couldn’t ask her. I mean, she was kind enough to invite us, so it wouldn’t be logical to ask her that. But I asked the cook. She mentioned something about a visit from a Dr. Perry. I guess something he said changed their mind about you.”

Amy’s heart stuttered in her chest. Lucas? He wouldn’t. He couldn’t have…

“Dr. Lucas Perry?” Amy mumbled.

“Do you know him, Amy?” Her mother asked curiously.

A wave of warmth washed over Amy. Lucas wouldn’t have told her, wouldn’t have wanted to take credit. But the thought of him intervening, of using his influence to give her a chance to say goodbye to Miley… it was overwhelming.

“Yes. He’s a friend, Mom,” Amy managed, her voice thick with unshed tears.

“A very good one I see,” her mother said, “Well, we owe him a huge debt of gratitude,” her mother said firmly. “Let’s talk about it when we meet. You will be able to make it for the funeral, right?”

The question grounded Amy. “The funeral is tomorrow, right? I should be there.”

“Absolutely,” her mother agreed. “Can you get on a flight soon?”

“I will have to stop by the office first, clear some things up,” Amy said, already leaping out of bed. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll be there.”

“I will be expecting you,” her mother responded before hanging up.

Hanging up, Amy felt a surge of emotions. Sadness for Miley, a bittersweet gratitude for Lucas. He may have left without saying goodbye to her, but it was obvious that he had thought about her and gone out of his way to help her and comfort her.

It wouldn’t be out of place for her to ask Lucy for Lucas’ number so she would express her gratitude to him. She would like to thank him for his help.

Knowing that she didn’t have much tome to dally about it she was going to handle her backlog at the office before traveling, Amy hurriedly got ready for the work.

She felt sort of ashamed and shameless at the same time to be thinking of asking Lucy for some time off to attend Miley’s funeral.

She felt ashamed because she knew it would look like she was taking advantage of Lucy’s kindness, and shameless because even though she knew that, she still wanted to do it. She couldn’t afford to miss Miley’s funeral.

Amy forced herself through the morning routine at work. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, clearing emails and scheduling appointments, but her mind was a whirlpool of grief and a nascent hope. Every completed task felt like a small victory, a step closer to getting on the plane and to Miley.

The office door swung open, announcing Lucy’s. Amy rose, a practiced smile gracing her lips as she followed Lucy into her office, “Good morning, Lucy.”

“Good morning, Amy. How are you?” Lucy asked pleasantly as she took off her blazer and hung it on her coat rack beside her desk.

“I’m fine. Thank you,” Amy said and before she could say anything, Lucy glanced at the clock.

“Alright. Tell me what I have on my schedule for today, and then you can go get everyone. I’d like to address the team,” she said, and although Amy wanted to ask her permission to leave, Amy decided to wait and do so after the team meeting.

Amy went on to rattle off the day’s agenda, her voice oddly steady. “A visit to the factory at 11 AM, conference call at 2 PM, reports due by the end of the day,” she finished, and Lucy nodded, making a mental note to inform Tom that she wouldn’t be available for lunch since she would be out inspecting the factory and having a meeting with the workers.

“Alright. Thanks. You can ask everyone to come in now,” Lucy said as she took her laptop to the conference table which was now in her office.

Five minutes later, Lucy sat at the head of the conference table, her laptop open in front of her. Around her, her team members gathered, each with their own notes and ideas to contribute.

“Alright, everyone,” Lucy began, her voice clear and authoritative. “Let’s get started. First, I want to thank you all for your hard work and dedication. We’ve had a successful quarter, and from the reports thus far, our summer collection has been a massive success, exceeding our expectation. Good job, everyone,” Lucy said and they all clapped.

“Having said that, I will go straight to today’s agenda. As you know, the Paris fashion week for the spring/summer collections is just two months away. I know we have never participated in it before now,” Lucy said, and they all turned to the door when Tom walked in.

Lucy raised a brow, wanting to excuse herself to go attend to him, but he shook his head, signaling her to go ahead, while he went to sit behind her desk to watch her do her thing.

“Back when I was in Heden, I always wondered why we never took part in those events, and now that I’m here, I’m hoping I can make it happen. I want to make it happen. However, two months is not enough time to prepare and submit an application. So, I’m going to be submitting an application for us to participate in the Fall/Winter collection fashion week. That gives us enough time to prepare,” Lucy said and paused to meet each team member’s gaze.

The team members nodded, some jotting down notes as Lucy spoke. Seeing that they were following, she flipped a digital presentation onto the screen, each page showcasing a mood board bursting with vibrant colors and innovative silhouettes.

“We will be aiming for boldness,” Lucy declared, her voice ringing with authority.

“Forget safe and predictable. We want to push boundaries, create a collection that makes a statement. I want us to think outside the box with this collection. Let’s explore new fabrics, new colors, new silhouettes. I want our designs to be bold, innovative, and most importantly, marketable.”

A murmur of excitement rippled through the room. Amy, leaned forward, a thoughtful frown on her usually serene face. “Lucy, the concept is phenomenal,” she said, “but the fabric sourcing for these experimental materials might be a challenge.”

Lucy acknowledged the concern with a curt nod. “I understand, Amy. And I want you to head up a task force specifically dedicated to sourcing. We will explore alternative vendors, even consider partnerships with emerging textile companies if necessary. I also want us to prioritize sustainability in our designs. I-Global is committed to reducing our environmental impact, and our fashion line should reflect that commitment.”

She paused, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. “Lastly, I want each of you to come to our next meeting with three new design concepts. I want to see your creativity at work, so don’t be afraid to take risks.”

“And what if after all this work we do not receive an invitation?” One of the guys in the team asked.

“We will be invited. And if for any reason we do not receive an invitation, we will host our own fashion week,” Lucy said and they all clapped happily while Tom who was watching, smiled.

A young intern, Emily, piped up, her voice barely a whisper. “What about the marketing campaign, Ms. Perry?”

Lucy’s smile was sharp. “Excellent question, Emily. We’re going all out with social media. We need a viral campaign that generates buzz long before the fashion week. Think influencer marketing, interactive content, something that captures the essence of the collection’s audacity. We are going to make them notice us. They are going to want us on their stage,” Lucy said with determination.

“Now, I will split you up into departments and assign specific roles to each department. I expect daily progress reports from each department, no exceptions.”

The next couple of minutes flew by in a flurry of ideas and challenges. Lucy fielded questions, offered solutions, and kept the energy high. It was a masterclass in leadership, a display of both vision and meticulous planning.

“I have complete faith that we are going to make a huge splash in Paris. Remember, we won’t just be showcasing clothes, we will be showcasing a story. Let’s tell the world what I-G clothing line is all about: bold designs, impeccable quality, and a commitment to innovation.”

As everyone trooped out of her office, Tom rose up to clap for her, “Bravo, my lady! Bravo!” He said, and she laughed as she closed her laptop.

“You know, if I wasn’t already crazy about you, watching you do your thing just now was a huge turn on,” Tom said and Lucy grinned.

“Thanks. I feel the same way when I watch you do your thing,” Lucy said with a wink as she joined him and Tom chuckled.

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were supposed to be busy?” She asked, and her gaze drifted to the door where Amy was standing.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Lucy said before Tom could respond, and she went out to meet Amy, who was circling outside her door.

“Amy, is everything alright?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Amy hesitated, “I’m very sorry for what I’m about to say, Lucy,” Amy said without meeting Lucy’s gaze.

Sensing that she knew what Amy wanted to say, Lucy raised an eyebrow, a gentle amusement replacing the concern. “Apology accepted. Now, say it.”

Taking a deep breath, Amy explained the unexpected call from her mother, the news of Miley’s funeral, and the even more unexpected invitation from Mrs. Garwood. Finally, she confessed, “I know it’s a lot to ask, especially considering that you let me take some time off before and I don’t want it to seem like I’m taking advantage of your kindness, but would it be possible… could I take three days off? I need to go to Miley’s funeral tomorrow. I promise not to take any more breaks from work even if I’m ill and dying I will show up. Please, Lucy. I really need to say goodbye to her,” Amy pleaded.

To Amy’s surprise, Lucy’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes, “Amy, there’s no need to apologize,” she said gently. “Of course you can go. Miley was your best friend. I’m glad that you’ve been able to resolve things with her family and you can attend the funeral.”

A wave of relief washed over Amy. “Thank you, Lucy. Thank you so much,” Amy said and Lucy smiled.

“It’s fine, Amy. Really,” Lucy said and turned around to return to her office but Amy stopped her.

“Lucy,” Amy started hesitantly, “Did Lucas tell you he visited Miley’s family and talked to them on my behalf?”

Lucy’s gaze flickered for a moment, a barely perceptible flicker of emotion crossing her face. She seemed on the verge of denial, then she simply shrugged.

“Lucas has a way of… helping people.”

“I need to thank him,” Amy said, her voice filled with determination. “Can I have his contact number?”

“Actually, Lucas doesn’t have a phone. He communicates with us using Tyler’s phone, and I will have to ask him first before giving that to you,” Lucy said apologetically.

“I understand. Please thank him on my behalf, and let him know I will appreciate it if he lets me give him a call,” Amy said and Lucy nodded.

“I will tell him just that. You should be on your way, Amy,” Lucy said and Amy nodded as she hurried away, while Lucy went back to meet Tom.

As Amy hurried out of the company, a familiar figure brushed past her, and she frowned as she looked back.

What was Rachel doing at the company?

Some chapters ago when I mentioned about Lucy being the fashionista of the group and being a designer, some readers seemed surprised by it. It made me realize I haven’t really shown her doing her thing, and that is the reason for this chapter.

Miss_Behaviour

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