As Simon Rhodes was on his way to the airport, he received a call from Skylar Vance: "Well... I sent Shannon a ssage yesterday, and she didn’t reply. Is everything okay over there?"
"Which ’that’ are you referring to?" Simon responded with a question instead.
Skylar pursed her lips. Although she’d gotten a bit closer to him in the past few days, she still only kept a reserved deanor, never once calling his na.
Simon pressed: "Hmm?"
Skylar answered quietly: "You."
Simon mumbled, "Is it really that hard to call by my na?"
Skylar retorted, "If I call you Uncle, you’re not happy about it either."
Simon: "I’m driving, let’s not chit-chat. Ronan just called saying Shannon’s in the hospital, but hasn’t told the details yet. I’ll go check and then get back to you."
Skylar: "Oh... then focus on your driving."
From Ronan’s tone, Simon could already sense the gravity of the situation, but he didn’t want Skylar to worry, so he brushed it off with a light comnt.
After hanging up, Skylar opened the bag holding her breakfast. Through the sealed transparent box, she could see that the presentation alone was beautiful.
Skylar removed the lid, took a picture with her phone first, and then slowly began to enjoy her al.
While eating, she looked at the docunts on her computer. The delicious breakfast turned work into a pleasure.
"Boss, soone is here to see you downstairs."
Skylar put down her spoon: "So early, who is it?"
Assistant: "A reservation made a month ago for art photography. They requested specifically for you to design the styling and scene personally, saying they didn’t mind the high price as they appreciate your style and trust your expertise."
Skylar smiled: "A regular?"
The assistant shook his head: "I’ve never seen them before, probably their first ti here, or maybe referred by a friend. You should hurry and eat; they called and said they’ll be here in a few minutes."
Skylar nodded, took a few big bites, quickly tidied her outfit in the mirror by the door, and headed downstairs.
As she went downstairs, she noticed a familiar car parked at the storefront and recognized it as Shawn Rhodes’ car.
She hadn’t seen him for so ti. Why would he co looking for her at the store?
Curious, she then saw Shawn Rhodes step out, chivalrously escorting a woman from the passenger seat.
Upon seeing that the woman was Rowan Alder, it all made sense.
As Shawn cradled Rowan into the shop, his face was a bit grim, while Rowan was smiling happily. Once inside and seeing Skylar, she feigned surprise: "What are you doing here?"
Skylar simply smiled and asked, "What kind of service are you two interested in? We offer a one-stop service for both weddings and funerals here. Given how far along you are, you’re probably not here for wedding planning, right? Well, you’re just in ti, funerals are 20% off this month and it includes a live band. Sit down and let’s go over the details."
Shawn’s already sullen expression turned even darker, while Rowan’s smile disappeared.
The store clerk was also taken aback by her boss’s peculiar service, then quietly reminded Skylar with a chuckle: "Boss, these are the custors who booked an art photoshoot today."
Skylar looked like she suddenly realized: "Oh, so you’re here for an art photoshoot. I apologize for the earlier mistake. Please, have a seat. We have so sample shoots available. You can take a look and let us know what style you prefer and your budget. Our staff will help you with the details."
Rowan smiled again: "We’d like to talk with you personally. I’m quite confident in your skills."
Skylar nodded graciously, casually pulled up a chair at an empty table, and sat down without inviting them to sit. She said nonchalantly: "I’m sure you’ve already done your research. In our store, prices vary depending on the stage. If you want to design personally, it’s charged by the hour."
Shawn glared at Skylar but remained silent.
Rowan, when it ca to money, especially for face, was naturally generous. "How do you charge?"
Skylar held up five fingers: "This much per hour."
Rowan: "Fifty?"
Skylar chuckled: "Five hundred."
Rowan frowned, but before she could say anything, Skylar added: "It depends on the style you want. Without going on location, it should take two to three hours. For on-location shoots, travel ti is charged as well."
Rowan’s eyes widened: "Have you gone mad for money?"
Skylar smiled broadly: "This has always been our pricing here. If it’s beyond your budget, I can refer you to our creative director. He charges fifty per hour and is only second to in skill."
The creative director, who was unwittingly dragged into the conversation, twitched his lips but dared not say a word, sipping his tea as if nothing had happened.
Shawn, who had been silent until now, spoke: "It’s fine, let’s see if your skills are worth five hundred an hour."
Shawn’s words had a double aning. Skylar could hear the implication that she was selling sothing else, but she just pretended not to understand, offering a formal smile and service to her husband and his lover for their maternity art photoshoot.
Apart from the chaotic price, Skylar maintained a professional benchmark for her other skills.
While changing clothes earlier, she overheard Rowan explaining to Shawn that she didn’t know this was Skylar’s store at first, and if she had known, she wouldn’t have co.
Shawn probably genuinely didn’t know in advance, while Rowan most certainly chose this place deliberately, the aim probably not being to capture any maternity photos, but more of a provocation.
During the photoshoot, Rowan wore a small cropped top with her prominent belly exposed, paired with a white, sheer skirt, revealing and concealing at the sa ti.
Shawn was bare-chested, with muscle lines that had a certain artistic appeal.
The photographer arranged them so Rowan leaned against Shawn, with Shawn embracing her from behind, his large hands over Rowan’s on her round belly.
"Husband, don’t look so serious. Lean your head a bit closer to your wife, show a little intimacy," the photographer instructed as he looked through the lens at the couple, advising adjustnts.
Skylar was only responsible for styling, and as the photographer shot, she busied herself with a bag of chips, chatting with the makeup artist as if she had completely forgotten that Shawn was her husband.
Her relaxed deanor made it clear she genuinely didn’t care what Shawn and Rowan did.
Shawn couldn’t figure out where this pent-up frustration ca from. Even when the photographer told him to smile, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Eventually, Rowan intervened, suggesting she wanted sothing different, not too warm and sweet.
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