INES
Walking into the company in a black suit dress, I tugged at the fabric awkwardly as I tried to compose myself. My hair, styled hastily into a messy, uneven ponytail, gave away my lack of effort. The bold red lipstick I had swiped on was a weak attempt to mask the exhaustion etched into my face. When I realized it did little to conceal the weariness, I grabbed a pair of oversized sunglasses, hoping they would hide everything I didn't want the world—or the board—to see.
The thought of facing the board after last night's recklessness made my stomach churn. I had gone out drinking, loudly criticizing the organization I was supposed to represent. If the board got wind of that, I'd lose all credibility. Worse, I'd have no defense to shield myself from their judgment.
