"Okay, she will personally et you in the office tomorrow morning," Julian said, tucking the phone in his pocket.
"Wait, what? Is she coming to see ? Personally? Julian, that woman doesn’t just ’drop everything’ for a small runway show."
"She did for this one."
Lyvana shook her head, still stunned. "Julian, are you sure you called the right person. Because her agency is like the best in the world. Nobody gets her on a Tuesday night with a single phone call."
"I kind of know her personally," he replied simply.
Lyvana searched his face, her eyes narrowing. "Is there sothing you’re not telling ?"
"There is a lot I haven’t told you, Lyvana." He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "But none of it changes the fact that you need the best. And Celeste is the best."
"Knowing soone ’personally’ is one thing. Having a woman like that abandon her schedule for you is another. Were you... close?"
Julian let out a short laugh. "If you’re asking if we dated, the answer is no. Our history is professional. I helped her out of a very difficult situation years ago; now, she’s returning the favor."
"Speaking of favors," Lyvana said, her voice becoming serious, "I need one. I need a doctor who specializes in cancer."
Julian’s smile vanished, and he frowned. "Do you think you have cancer?"
"No, no," she said quickly, reaching out to reassure him. "It’s for Emily. I want her to get checked."
Julian’s brow cleared, but he still looked concerned.
"Emily? Did she say sothing to you?"
"No," Lyvana admitted, looking down at her hands. How would she explain this so it makes sense. "It’s just... a feeling. She’s been... um complaining lately. And I can’t lose her again."
Julian didn’t ask what she ant by again. He simply nodded.
"I’ll handle it," he said firmly. "I’ll have Lily find the best oncologist in the country. We’ll set up a ’routine’ screening for both of you — sothing discreet so she doesn’t get scared."
Lyvana looked up at him, her heart softening. Even though her request must have sounded strange out of nowhere, he hadn’t hesitated for a second. He just stepped up to help.
"Thank you, Julian," she whispered.
He reached out, his thumb lingering on her cheek as he looked down at her.
"Don’t thank yet," he said softly. "Right now, I should probably get you to bed before you catch a cold. If you get sick, Dr. Aris will definitely give an earful."
He led her back into the house as the cool night air began to settle.
When they reached the master suite, Lyvana stopped at the edge of the large, plush bed. She looked around the room, then back at Julian.
"Is there only one bed?" she asked.
"Um... no," Julian replied.
"Good..." she murmured.
"But I think it’s best I sleep beside you, just in case you have a concussion or your symptoms get worse during the night."
Lyvana arched an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. "Since when are you an expert in dical ergencies?"
"Well," Julian said, his eyes softening as he looked at her, "since I began tending to you."
Lyvana laughed lightly. "Tending to ? You make sound like a broken vase."
"Not a vase," Julian corrected, his voice dropping low. "Sothing much more precious."
He didn’t wait for her to argue. He reached out and pulled her gently against him, wrapping his arms around her waist.
For a long mont, they just stood there in the silence, listening to the rhythm of each other’s breathing.
Then, as if she weighed nothing at all, he lifted her and tucked her into the bed, then climbed in beside her.
The next morning, a helicopter arrived at the quiet cottage.
Lyvana paused near the steps, her eyes fixing on the bold logo on the tail.
TechSphere.
She stared at the na. It felt very familiar, like a headline she’d scrolled past or a logo on a docunt she had once signed. Was it a global conglorate? A high-end security firm?
"Is everything okay?" Julian asked, his hand extended to help her up.
Lyvana shook the thought away. She was tired and still recovering; her mind was likely playing tricks on her. She took his hand and boarded.
Twenty minutes later, the helicopter touched down on the private helipad atop The Royale.
....
Lyvana had arrived at her office. Even with Julian’s half-day rule, she felt happy to be back on her feet. She needed to see for herself if Celeste Armand will indeed show up.
She pushed open the glass doors, and there she was. Celeste was a vision of authority in a sharp, structured charcoal blazer, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a perfectly tight knot. She was already hovering over Bertha, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the marble floor.
"This floor plan is a safety risk and a visual ss," Celeste was saying, her voice cutting through the room. She looked up as Lyvana entered, her expression shifting instantly.
"Ahh, Ms. Lyvana," she said, stepping forward with a practiced grace. She leaned in to kiss her cheek as if they were old friends who saw each other every Tuesday.
Lyvana returned the greeting warmly, though she was secretly surprised by the warmth. She had expected her to be hard as stone, but instead, she was full of professional charm.
"I am so happy you could make it," Lyvana said. "Let’s step into my office."
"Grand ridian," Celeste said excitedly after they reached her office. "It’s a classic choice, Lyvana, but classic can easily beco boring. If we use the standard stage, you’re just another designer in a rented room."
She signalled to the two people with her and they pulled a large architectural map of the hotel’s event space across the desk.
"The Grand ridian Ballroom," Celeste said, tapping a red-tipped finger on a map of the hotel’s floor plan. "I don’t want us to use a standard stage. I want the models to feel like they are walking on water. The ridian has that indoor marble fountain at the entrance of the ballroom."
Lyvana leaned over the table, her mind already racing.
Just as Celeste started to map out the cara angles, the office doors swung open without a knock.
Mark stepped in. He held a leather briefcase and a bouquet of roses — Lyvana’s least favorite flower.
"Liv, what’s going on here," Mark asked ignoring Celeste entirely.
"Mark this is Celeste..."
"What happened to your phone, I have been trying to reach you," he said cutting her off. "I’ve spent all morning with the bank managers and you don’t even have the decency to call ."
Celeste adjusted her glasses. "Who is this, and why is he leaking ’middle-managent energy’ all over my floor plan?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers