Chapter 8

When Rachel came to get me, she'd put on a little weight since I'd last seen her four years ago, but she looked great.

She wore a black suit, her hair curled into loose waves, and she walked with purpose.

"Evelyn." She hurried over and grabbed my hand. "You've gotten so thin. Your face is all angles now."

"Hi, Rachel," I replied.

"Don't just stand here. Come on, let's go inside."

She led me down the hallway. Glass partitions lined both sides, separating rows of desks where more than a dozen people were working. Design drafts filled their screens, and the sound of keyboards filled the air.

The whole place buzzed with energy.

Walking through it, I felt a little out of step with the pace.

Rachel brought me into a small conference room and poured me a cup of coffee. "So? How does it feel being back?"

There was a hint of concern in her eyes. She probably thought the past four years had been a complete waste.

"I'm okay."

"Let me give you the rundown first." She sat down. "I've thought about how we should handle your resume. Honestly, a four-year gap doesn't look great on paper.

"If you go through the usual hiring process, you'd have to make it through round after round of screening at a big company, and your chances aren't great."

I nodded. I knew that.

"But..." She changed course. "You've got something nobody else does."

"What is it?"

"You're Breeze."

Hearing her say that name out loud felt strange. It was like something I'd kept hidden for four years had suddenly been pulled out of my pocket and laid bare on the table.

"Breeze isn't exactly a household name in the industry, but anyone who follows DesignHub has probably come across your work," Rachel added. "Especially the Springhill project. It's been saved more than 3,000 times on the platform.

"Victoria, our founder, really likes it. She's brought it up several times in meetings and said she wanted to find the person behind it and talk about working together."

"She doesn't know who Breeze is?" I asked.

"You never used your real name." Rachel shrugged. "You didn't even put up a profile picture. Your bio is only one line that says, 'A designer who works late into the night.'

"How was anyone supposed to know where to find you?"

I went quiet. I'd chosen to stay anonymous on purpose.

It wasn't about being mysterious. I simply hadn't wanted Michael or his family to know.

They needed the Evelyn who spent her days cleaning up after Margaret. They didn't need to know there was another Evelyn who stayed up late designing.

"I was actually hoping you'd meet Victoria today." Rachel glanced at her phone. "But she got pulled into a last-minute client meeting, and it'll run late. Do you mind waiting?"

"Not at all."

"Then let me take a look at your portfolio first. I've gone through everything you've posted online, but you must have some work that you haven't uploaded yet, right?"

I opened the folder on my phone and handed it to her.

She went through it carefully. She spent more than ten seconds on each project, occasionally zooming in to check the details.

About halfway through, she paused. "I like the color palette on this bakery brand."

She kept scrolling. When she reached the full Springhill project, she went through it several times. "With this project alone, you could walk into a pretty decent job. But I'd really like you to come work with us at Spectrum."

I nodded.

Then her smile faded. "There is one thing I should tell you."

"What is it?"

Rachel replied, "You know the design industry is a small world. Someone posted something in an industry group this morning.

"They said a woman named Evelyn Shaw had spent four years living off her in-laws without working, and now that she was divorced, she was trying to get back into the workforce. They told everyone to watch out for her."