"Everything is set. I am just waiting for the stylist to come over with the clothes, and then we can head down… Elliott, what are you planning exactly? I mean… I saw the contract offer, but what if they don't even give us a chance to explain?"
Elliott opened his eyes slowly and sent Skylar a long look. His expression alone was enough to quiet most people, but Skylar's nerves refused to settle. He was a worrywart and always would be.
Before Elliott could even tell him to calm down, the man's phone buzzed, distracting him. He picked it up, glanced at the screen, and a moment later a string of curses slipped past his lips.
"The stylist has refused to come!" Skylar snapped, throwing the phone down on the couch "Starlink cancelled their contract for you with him-effective immediately. And that's not all. They warned him not to ever work with you again. Can you believe that? What the hell do I do now?"
Elliott watched Skylar almost pulled out his hair in frustration and continued to pace, "Damn it! Maybe I can contact another designer… but at this hour? I don't even know who might be awake, let alone willing to answer and have something readily available..."
His rant was cut short by a sudden knock at the door. Both men froze and turned toward the sound. It was only five-thirty in the morning. Who could possibly be visiting at this hour?
Skylar's body tensed. With quiet steps, he moved to the door and leaned close to the peephole. Could it be that the paparazzi had found them already? That would be really bad. But he had been so careful... He'd even registered the room in his name.
When he finally looked through, all he saw was a waiter in a neatly pressed uniform, standing patiently in the hallway. Skylar frowned. Could it be some kind of a trap. Keeping the safety chain in place, he carefully opened the door a few inches...
The waiter inclined his head politely and said, "Mr. Jennings. A parcel for you."
Skylar's gaze dropped to the items in the waiter's hands: a sleek designer bag, its logo unmistakable, and another box stacked neatly on top of it.
He blinked in surprise, opened the door and reached out to take them...
Once inside, he locked the door carefully and took out the envelope stuck to it. He didn't have to check this time, who the sender was. He simply handed over the envelope and picked up the small box marked 'one' and handed it to Elliott, who did not look quite happy.
But Skylar was happy! The envelope had the name of Vanessa Grant, and the designer brand was an international one, known to be careful who they sent their clothing to...which meant that whatever clothes were in the bag, they were going to be perfect. So, he was curious to see what gift the box had...
Ignoring his worries for a minute, he quickly reached Elliott's side as he opened the box and pulled out a... a thermos?
Skylar blinked. He stared at Elliott and then at the thermos...
Was there something special about the thermos?
Unable to wait, he took the letter from Elliott, and moved to open it, but before he could he felt a cold glare on his hand.
He glanced at Elliott and then carefully placed it back. Dam* it! He wanted to know what was in the letter! He was curious...
He watched as Elliott opened the letter and almost cheered him on to make him move faster...But then as he shamelessly peered over the man's shoulder and to read the contents, he could only frown..." Made me think of you."
How did a thermos make her think of Elliott.
"Do you understand this?" He asked Elliott, not even bothering to hide his nosiness. And then watched in growing fascination as Elliott smiled and explained," It has soup. Because I am 'in a soup'."
With that, Elliott stood up, opened the thermos, took a sip from it and then grabbing the designer bag, walked away. "I'll change into this and come..."
Skylar could only scratch his head as he watched Elliott go. What was going on? What kind of connection did Vanessa Grant form with Elliott that her weird things always made him smile? All sorts of gifts the man had received over the years had not made him smile or accept them... He'd simply always sent them away, to be kept safely in storage somewhere.
However, all of his thoughts flew out of his head, when Elliott walked out. Dam*! He had been right. The white shirt and trousers were perfect...
They somehow complimented Elliott's delicate beauty... making him look like some kind of an untouchable fallen angel... But as Elliott turned back, Skylar could not help but frown...
"Umm.. Elliott... the shirt..."