Chapter 6

The conference room was aggressive. That was the only word Lena could find for it. The walls were stark white, the table was a slab of grey granite that looked heavy enough to crush a car, and the air conditioning was set to Arctic Tundra.

​”Nut,” Lena shivered, rubbing her bare arms. “Give me your jacket.”

​”But… Khun Lena, I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt underneath,” Nut whispered, clutching his blazer.

​”Did I ask for a fashion report? Give it to me.”

​Nut sighed and peeled off his cheap polyester blazer. Lena draped it over her shoulders like a cape, wrinkling her nose at the faint smell of nervous sweat.

​”Twenty minutes,” Lena hissed, tapping her fingernail against the granite table. “We have been waiting twenty minutes. This ‘Head of Production’ better be royalty. Or dead. Those are the only two excuses I accept.”

​Som, who was standing by the door like a prison guard, cleared her throat. “She is just finishing up on the floor, Khun Lena. She takes the quality checks very seriously.”

​”She takes wasting my time seriously,” Lena corrected. She picked up the plastic water bottle on the table. “Look at this. Namthip. Not even Evian. Do they want the contract or not?”

​Suddenly, the heavy wooden door clicked.

​”Finally,” Lena muttered, spinning her chair around to face the entrance. “Let’s see who this wizard is.”

​The door swung open.

​A woman walked in.

​Lena’s jaw unhinged.

​It was the mechanic. The rude, grease-stained woman from the lab.

​But she looked different now. The baggy blue coveralls were gone. She was wearing a crisp, white button-down shirt tucked into tailored navy trousers that hit perfectly at the ankle. Her hair was damp, slicked back casually as if she had just showered, and the grease smudge was gone, revealing flawless, golden-tan skin.

​She wasn’t holding a wrench anymore. She was holding a thick file folder.

​Lena blinked. “You?”

​The woman didn’t answer immediately. She walked past Nut, past Som, and walked straight to the leather chair at the head of the table-the chair meant for the boss.

​She pulled it out and sat down.

​Lena watched, stunned, as the woman opened the file, took out a silver pen, and crossed her legs.

​”Excuse me,” Lena said, her voice rising. “What do you think you’re doing?”

​The woman looked up, her dark eyes calm and amused. “Reviewing your request, Khun Lena.”

​”That chair,” Lena pointed a manicured finger, “is for the Head of Production. Get up before you get fired.”

​The room went deadly silent. Nut covered his face with his hands. Som looked at the ceiling.

​The woman leaned back. She clicked her pen. Click. Click.

​”I am the Head of Production,” she said simply.

​Lena froze. Her brain tried to process the information, but it kept getting stuck on the image of the woman holding a trash cup five minutes ago.

​”No,” Lena scoffed, forcing a laugh. “You were on the floor. You were fixing a machine. You were covered in dirt.”

​”Machines break,” the woman said, shrugging. “I fix them. It’s faster than waiting for maintenance. Efficiency, remember?”

​She tapped the file. “I’m Miu. I run this facility. Som tells me you’re here to demand a production slot we don’t have.”

​Lena stared at her. Heat rushed up her neck-not from the temperature, but from pure, unadulterated humiliation. She had ordered the Head of Production to take out the trash. She had treated the person holding the keys to her fifty-million-baht contract like a janitor.

​Apologize, her brain screamed. Apologize now.

​But Lena Schuett did not apologize. Not to people who wore blue hairnets. Not to people who tricked her.

​She straightened her spine, pulling Nut’s oversized blazer tighter around her shoulders. She lifted her chin three degrees.

​”Well,” Lena sniffed. “That explains the smell.”

​Miu raised an eyebrow. “The smell?”

​”The smell of… manual labor,” Lena lied, desperate to regain the upper hand. “If you are the Head of Production, Khun Miu, perhaps you should dress like it from the start. It’s very unprofessional to confuse your clients.”

​Miu stared at her. For a second, Lena thought she saw a flash of anger, but it vanished instantly, replaced by that infuriating smirk.

​”Noted,” Miu said dryly. “I’ll wear a ballgown next time I crawl under a mixing tank.”

​Miu looked down at the paper in front of her. “Now. Schuett Cosmetics. You want to move the ‘Silk Skin’ line to us. Volume: 50,000 units per month. Export grade. Organic certification.”

​”Correct,” Lena said, trying to sound bored. “And we need a sample batch by tomorrow.”

​Miu laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh. “Tomorrow? Impossible. Our lead time for new formulas is three weeks.”

​”My sister wants it tomorrow,” Lena bluffed. “If you can’t do it, we’ll take our money elsewhere.”

​Miu closed the file. “Okay.”

​”Okay?” Lena blinked. “Okay, you’ll do it?”

​”No. Okay, take your money elsewhere.” Miu stood up. “As Som told you, we are at capacity. I don’t have the machines, and I definitely don’t have the patience for clients who want miracles in twenty-four hours.”

​She turned to Som. “Show them out, please.”

​Panic exploded in Lena’s chest. If she went back to Bangkok empty-handed, Pim would kill her. She would lose the penthouse. She would lose the credit cards. She would have to drive the Toyota Corolla forever.

​”Wait!” Lena yelled, standing up so fast her chair scraped loudly against the floor.

​Miu stopped. She turned halfway around, one hand in her pocket. “Yes?”

​”I…” Lena swallowed her pride. It tasted like bile. “We can’t go elsewhere. My sister… specifically wants this factory.”

​Miu studied her. Her eyes drifted from Lena’s desperate face to the ridiculous oversized blazer, then down to the Gucci loafers.

​”You really want that sample?” Miu asked softly.

​”Yes,” Lena managed to say.

​Miu checked her watch. “The only machine capable of running your formula is the Emulsifier 4. It’s booked all day. The only free slot is the graveyard shift. 2:00 AM to 6:00 AM.”

​”Fine!” Lena said. “Run it then. Send it to me in the morning.”

​”No,” Miu shook her head. “It’s a new formula. I need a representative from the brand present to sign off on the texture adjustments in real-time. If you want it, you have to be here.”

​”Me?” Lena gasped. “At 2:00 AM?”

​”That’s the offer,” Miu said, walking toward the door. “Take it or leave it, Khun Lena.”

​Lena looked at Nut. Nut looked like he was about to cry.

​”Fine,” Lena gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’ll stay.”

​Miu smiled. It was a dazzling, terrifying smile.

​”Great. I’ll see you at 2:00 AM. Don’t be late. And Khun Lena?”

​”What?”

​”Bring comfortable shoes. You’re going to be standing a lot.”

​Miu walked out, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving Lena standing in the freezing room, realizing she had just made a terrible, terrible mistake.