Bring Your A Game

Bring Your A Game Mr Chapter 190

Would You Like to Come Over?

Molly thought, No one in the atelier could be so daring as to lay a finger on Mr. Griffith’s designs. This woman must be either crazy or fearless to actually cut a dress that he has made!

As she was oblivious to a stunned Molly’s thoughts, Elise explained breezily, “The inseam isn’t going to work, at least not with this fabric. I’ll have to change it, so could you bring over something thin like gambiered silk gauze from the storage later? Just three feet of it will do.”

Molly had yet to recover from her initial shock of seeing someone boldly mutilate Brendan’s creation and she was presently staring at Elise in disbelief.

“Is something the matter?” Elise pressed indifferently when she heard no response from the assistant.

With that, Molly instantly snapped out of her daze and she was abruptly reminded of what Brendan had told her earlier. As she nodded profusely, she answered, “No, nothing at all! I’ll get the fabric right away!” With that, she scurried out of the design studio.

Now that the dress no longer had its former silhouette, Elise moved to the frontal section of its bodice and began to tweak it with needles and threads.

By the time Molly returned with the roll of fabric, Elise was already done with the neckline of the dress. She took in the aftermath and was surprised to see that the dress looked better than it originally had. “Miss Sinclair, I have the gambiered silk gauze you asked for,” she announced tentatively.

“Leave it aside for now,” Elise responded as she kept the needles and threads before she reached for the scissors once more. After grabbing one section of the skirt in one hand, she swiftly cut it off. There was a finesse in her movements that Molly found mesmerizing and she did not dare to blink for fear that she would miss out on the slightest of details.

“Can I have the ivory thread no.2 please?” Elise asked, breaking the silence that was otherwise filled by the sound of scissors on fabric.

Molly quickly shook herself out of her reverie and passed the thread to Elise, who took it. Then, after she mapped out the lines, Elise started to sew.

Throughout the whole process, she hardly spoke a word, but she moved with a fluidity that seemed second nature to her. Molly had to take a break in between, but while she was in the lounge to get a glass of water, Brendan abruptly materialized next to her and asked, “How’s it going in there?”

her water as she hurried to answer, “Everything’s going pretty well.

think I’d ask you about the process? I’m asking about the dress! How is it? Has it been destroyed

had to be honest, she had a distinct feeling that the dress would

someone whose stitchwork could be compared

he dismissed, “Oh, she’s… just a friend. It doesn’t matter; she’s not a professional, so it won’t be surprising

where do I stand in this industry? “Mr. Griffith, you might as well just stab me through the heart!”

blinked at her in confusion. “Stab you

my years of working as a fashion designer, I just realized that I can’t even compete with a non-professional. I need a

turned on her heels and marched out of the lounge, leaving Brendan shouting after her in bewilderment, “Hey, don’t just walk off without explaining

two up her sleeve. So what if she does? Fashion design isn’t like

the thought of this, Brendan visibly brightened up. He didn’t need to dwell on whether she had the skills or raw talent—at

as the silhouette of the dress was coming together under Elise’s delicate handiwork. When the dress was finally done, Molly gaped at ot. Elise’s design seemed to breathe new life into the dress; its refinement was as good

you sure you’re not a professional, Miss Sinclair?” Molly asked as her

thoughtfully before replying, “I guess you could say I’m

hope is there left for those in the industry like me? “Miss Sinclair, your

another glance at the dress, Elise added, “I’m almost done with the silhouette of the dress, but there’s one last detail I need to add. Will you help

tweaking on the dress. Where Elise was working on the stitches, Molly helped her to press the

stuff, Miss Sinclair. I can’t

legs before she looked at the wall clock to see that it was

at night.” She had only just said this when her stomach grumbled in protest, as though reminding

Sinclair. We can