Chapter 26

Two days after their last conversation, Margaret and Clarisse met again at the elegant café in the center of Paris. The tables, arranged with care, reflected the discreet luxury of the place, while the aroma of freshly ground coffee filled the air. Margaret had been punctual, as always, and arrived dressed in a simple yet flawless silk blouse, projecting the professionalism that characterized her. However, this time there was something different in her demeanor: an even more determined attitude and a look that left no doubt about who was in control. She had spent the last two days preparing not only the sketches but also the speech with which she would defend her work.

While waiting for Clarisse, she reviewed the documents in her folder one last time. They weren't just designs; they were a statement that she would not be trampled or manipulated. Every line, every stroke, represented her artistic vision, and she was not willing to let anyone, not even someone with Clarisse's influence, make her doubt her talent. She ordered a black coffee while settling into her chair, relaxed but alert, mentally preparing herself for what was about to come.

Finally, Clarisse arrived, wrapped in a designer coat and carrying her usual air of superiority. Her gaze evaluated Margaret from head to toe before sitting across from her, with a gesture that indicated she expected to be the dominant figure in the conversation. But Margaret, with a slight smile that concealed her true intention, greeted her courteously, ready to face her once more. This would not be just any meeting; Margaret had come prepared to mark her territory, and nothing or no one would make her back down.

-Margaret, dear, you have no idea how much I was looking forward to this moment -Clarisse said in an almost maternal tone, which Margaret knew was pure theater-. I hope you have something truly worthwhile this time.

-Of course, Clarisse -Margaret replied with a measured smile as she sat down across from her-. I spent quite some time reflecting on your observations, and I think you'll be pleased with what I've prepared.

Clarisse settled into her chair, crossing her legs elegantly, while Margaret placed the portfolio on the table. Days had passed, but Margaret had made no changes to the designs. She had decided that the best way to deal with someone like Clarisse was to show her that her authority was nothing but an illusion.

-Here are the new designs -Margaret said calmly, opening the portfolio-. Thanks to your valuable observations, I noticed some weak points that I was able to adjust.

Clarisse raised an eyebrow, surprised by Margaret's seemingly genuine tone. She took the sketches with elegance and began examining them, her gaze moving from one design to another.

-Interesting... -she said after a few seconds, nodding slightly-. This is much better. Perhaps, if you continue working under my guidance, you could reach a more professional level.

Margaret couldn't help but let out a low laugh, laced with sarcasm.

-Oh, Clarisse, I'm so glad you think so -she said, her tone sweet but full of irony-. You know, sometimes one needs that critical push to reach excellence.

Clarisse, unaware of the underlying meaning in Margaret's words, smiled smugly, believing she had managed to intimidate Margaret.

-I'm glad you finally understand -she replied, with an air of superiority-. After all, I have a lot of experience in this business.

Margaret nodded slightly, but her mind reveled in the small victory: the designs that Clarisse had just approved had not had a single line changed from the original.

-Well, I guess everything is ready -Margaret said, closing the portfolio-. Unless you have any more observations.

-For now, no. But don't let your guard down, Margaret. Stay open to my advice; it can always make a difference.

-Oh, don't worry -Margaret replied, standing up with a smile-. I appreciate your valuable opinion more than you think.

As she left the café, Margaret felt the cold Parisian air brush against her face, a refreshing contrast after the tense conversation with Clarisse. She took a deep breath, letting the coolness fill her lungs, as if the simple act of inhaling helped her expel any trace of doubt or frustration that might have lingered inside her. For the first time in days, a spark of satisfaction lit up her gaze, and a faint smile appeared on her lips. She had faced Clarisse on her own turf and come out victorious, even though the other woman had no idea of it.

As she walked down the cobbled streets, the city lights reflecting in the puddles of recent rain, Margaret thought about everything she had faced to get to this point. There had been doubts, sacrifices, and moments of loneliness that had tested her, but she had never allowed herself to fall. That small victory, though insignificant in the eyes of others, was a reminder of her strength and determination. No one, not even someone like Clarisse, could take away the confidence she had rebuilt with so much effort.

Her thoughts returned to Mateo, the driving force behind all her decisions. He deserved to have a strong mother, a woman who could teach him that life, although sometimes unfair, could be conquered with courage and conviction. Margaret looked up at the gray Paris sky, determined to keep moving forward, to protect what she had built, and not to let anyone, not even her own heart, divert her from the path she had chosen. Because, even though Lorenzo remained a persistent shadow in her mind, Margaret knew she could not afford to falter. Not yet.