Her smile disappeared.
“What is she doing here?”
Glenn cleared his throat.
“She’s the production partner.”
Tessa stared at him.
“You brought June?”
June approached the table calmly.
“Good morning, Ms. Vance.”
Laura shook her hand.
“June Whitfield?”
“Yes. Bluebird Stitchworks.”
“I’ve heard good things about your company.”
“Thank you.”
Tessa stepped forward.
“June’s workshop may help with production, but the design and business arrangements remain under Tessa Rose.”
Laura opened her tablet.
“That’s what we’re here to review.”
She displayed the jacket specifications.
“Two hundred units in the first delivery. Four hundred more in scheduled batches. We need confirmation that the garments can be produced to the agreed standard.”
June studied the specification sheet.
Then she began explaining the process.
“The embroidered yokes require approximately forty-two thousand stitches per jacket. We use a forty-weight thread and stabilize the fabric before the main embroidery begins.”
Laura made a note.
June continued.
“With nine machines operating on planned shifts, we can complete the decorative panels within the available production window. Cutting and assembly need separate teams. The collars should be finished by hand because the seams need to remain flat after repeated washing.”
Laura looked impressed.
“How many employees do you have?”
“Fourteen full-time and six trained part-time workers available for this production schedule.”
“And quality control?”
“Every jacket receives an individual inspection before packaging. We document stitch consistency, sizing, seam finishing, and fabric quality.”
Laura nodded.
“That sounds workable.”
Tessa smiled tightly.
“Exactly. That’s why we selected Bluebird.”
June looked at her.
“You didn’t select us until the original production plan failed.”
Tessa’s expression hardened.
“June, this isn’t the time.”
Laura looked between them.
“Is there a problem?”
June answered calmly.
“Yes. There’s a question about ownership of the design.”
The room went quiet.
Tessa laughed.
“Ownership?”
June nodded.
“I designed the Dogwood jacket in 2023.”
Tessa folded her arms.
“That’s ridiculous.”
June didn’t raise her voice.
“I have the original pattern records, dated photographs, and production samples.”
Laura looked toward Tessa.
“Ms. Vale, your contract includes an originality warranty.”
“Of course. It’s my design.”
June glanced toward the framed jacket on the wall.
“May we examine that sample?”
Tessa hesitated.
“It’s part of the display.”
Laura opened her checklist.
“Our quality department requires a review of the original sample. I’d appreciate seeing it.”
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Glenn stepped toward the display and carefully removed the frame.
He placed it on the counter.
Tessa looked furious.
June waited while the jacket was taken out.
Then she looked at Laura.
“Would you turn the collar over?”
Laura did.
Beneath the inner seam was a tiny embroidered bluebird.
Below it were two letters and a date.
J.W.
2023.
Laura stared at the stitching.
Then she looked at the plaque beneath the frame.
TESSA ROSE ORIGINAL COLLECTION
2024.
She looked up.
“What does J.W. mean?”
Tessa opened her mouth.
June answered.
“June Whitfield.”
Laura examined the stitch work.
June placed her original design folder beside the jacket.
“The pattern was completed in the fall of 2023. Here are the sketches, dated production notes, and photographs of twelve finished jackets I displayed at the Sumner County fair.”
Laura studied the records.
The photographs showed the same embroidered dogwood branches.
The same collar construction.
The same small bluebird beneath the seam.
June continued.
“I’ve signed my work this way for thirty years. My mother did the same before me.”
Laura looked toward Tessa.
“Can you explain why your original sample contains Ms. Whitfield’s initials and a date preceding your collection?”
Tessa’s expression changed.
She looked at Glenn.
He looked down.
“June made some samples for us,” Tessa said.
June shook her head.
“No. I made those before your boutique existed.”
Laura turned another page.
The archived photographs showed June standing beside the rack of jackets in her garage.
The publication date was visible.
Months before Tessa Rose opened.
Laura looked at Tessa.
“Did you purchase or license the design from Ms. Whitfield?”
Tessa hesitated.
“No formal agreement was necessary.”
“Why not?”
“Because Glenn brought the garments to me.”
June turned toward Glenn.
For twenty-four years, she’d known him.
She had watched him struggle through unemployment.
Paid bills when he couldn’t.
Defended him when others questioned his choices.
Now he stood in a boutique built partly with the proceeds of her sewing equipment, looking at a jacket he’d taken from her garage.
“Glenn,” June said quietly, “tell her where that jacket came from.”
He looked at Tessa.
She shook her head slightly.
June waited.
Finally, Glenn spoke.
“It was in June’s garage.”
Laura lowered her pen.
Glenn continued.
“Tessa liked the design. I brought it over when we were preparing the boutique.”
Tessa turned sharply.
“Glenn!”
He looked at her.