“Sorry, earlier my shirt...” Elana let the sentence trail off. She lowered her gaze to her shirt, then looked at the jeans the man was wearing and frowned, groaning inwardly. “Now your pants are dirty too.”
The man looked down at his pants, then stared in shock before raising his head again to look at Elana with an unreadable expression. That alone was enough to leave her flustered and panicking for no reason. Elana scratched the back of her neck in confusion.
“Done throwing up?” the man asked, one eyebrow raised. Elana shook her head.
“My friend did. I’m going to the bathroom to clean my shirt. Sorry your pants got dirty too,” Elana explained guiltily. The man chuckled softly and shook his head.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Want to go to the bathroom together?”
“Huh?!”
“Wait?! No! That’s not what I meant... I mean...” Elana laughed before walking away from the man, shaking her head in disbelief.
The man stood there, blinking, before following the girl in front of him. His eyes traveled over her back, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He studied her carefully, trying to remember the somewhat familiar face. Wavy hair at the ends, clear skin, unusually tall for a woman, and slender.
“You’re... Elana? The model, right?” he asked, making Elana glance back before shrugging.
“Maybe,” Elana replied shortly, making the man snort.
“I’m Louise... well, in case you need my name,” the man said quickly, making Elana laugh again.[]
Derin smiled in relief when Haga told him Elana had agreed to his sponsorship contract, saying she was happy and grateful that he was willing to sponsor her, even though she was just some no-name model who didn’t have a reputation as big as Nadya Hutagalung’s or even Luna Maya’s.
For the first time, Derin felt calm, peaceful, and happy that night. It was a little ridiculous, considering Elana had only signed his contract, not accepted him as her husband. But wasn’t it always the simple things that could make anyone happier? Derin didn’t need anything grand.
The next morning’s schedule, which he had planned with Haga, was to go to the showroom and buy Elana a car. As agreed in the sponsorship deal, he would provide for all of Elana’s needs.
Everything from transportation to the clothes the girl wore. Haga had already sent him a few lists of cars suited to her needs, such as a Lexus Luxury Mover, along with a personal car for the girl—one that wouldn’t break down whenever she used it.
But all thoughts of the schedule he was supposed to follow tomorrow were interrupted when his memory jolted him back to earlier that afternoon in Elana’s agency meeting room. He had heard about the girl’s schedule and learned that Elana would be leaving for Paris the next day. Derin quickly grabbed his phone and contacted Haga to ask about it, receiving confirmation from the man.
After contacting Tama, Haga explained that Elana had to fly to Paris at eleven tomorrow morning to attend Fashion Week, which would be held next Saturday—three days from now. The event would only provide three days of hotel accommodations in Paris and meals. Everything else had to be handled by the agency.
“Don’t tell me Elana’s flying economy like she always does,” Derin grumbled as he headed to the bathroom and roughly splashed his face with water.
“A Jakarta-to-Paris ticket alone costs around nineteen million per person. That’s for economy,” Tama said. Haga had deliberately connected the call to Elana’s manager so he wouldn’t have to explain everything to two people and act as the middleman.
“Does your agency not have any money? Isn’t Elana’s fee big enough, with the agency taking thirty percent? Not to mention endorsements and other jobs that are split with management too. Is all that still not enough to buy a single business-class ticket, which probably only costs around fifty million?” Derin asked, irritated and baffled. He roughly wiped his face with a towel, tossed it into the hamper, and left the bathroom.
He let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his wet hair.
“I already brought it up with the agency, but as usual, Mr. Yoga said it would be a waste of money. As long as Elana herself never complains, Mr. Yoga has no intention of giving her special treatment. Elana’s never had a problem flying economy either. She’d probably say yes if they asked her to sleep in the luggage compartment.”
Derin’s jaw tightened. His sharp gaze fixed on the phone lying on the bed, its screen split into three sections displaying the profile pictures of Haga, himself, and Tama.
“Book two business-class tickets, for Elana and me!” His final decision was nonnegotiable, leaving Tama and Haga speechless.
Of course, both of them were left with a headache. Haga wouldn’t just have to cover for Derin’s absence at the office—Tama would have to do the same. She had to rearrange Elana’s schedule and inform their boss and the accompanying staff that Elana would be moved to business class. They might not even be on the same flight, which only made things more complicated. What if Elana arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport first?
Derin’s headache didn’t end there. After he ended the call with Haga and Tama, his other phone began ringing, displaying his mother’s contact information. It made Derin frown in confusion and wonder. His mother rarely called, especially this late at night.
With a sigh, he answered. “What is it?” he asked quietly.
“你现在忙吗 nǐ xiànzài máng ma? [Are you busy right now?]” the woman asked. Before Derin could answer, his mother continued, “Jeslyn is in Jakarta. Her assistant said she’s out with her friends at Fireclass or whatever it’s called—Mom forgot. 能不能去接一下你表妹 Néng bù néng qù jiē yíxià nǐ biǎomèi? [Can you go pick up your cousin?]”
“Jeslyn’s an adult, Mom. She’s not a kid anymore. Let her have fun with her friends!”
“Jeslyn has a reputation to protect. She’s an actress in Singapore, and what if the media happens to catch her drunk at a club? Go pick her up, okay~ Her manager picked her up earlier, but Jeslyn doesn’t want to go home. She’ll only listen to you.” Derin let out a heavy sigh and clicked his tongue when his mother hung up without waiting for his reply—or even his refusal.
He wanted to sleep and rest. He wanted to collapse onto his soft bed, because tomorrow morning he had to finish his work before flying to Paris. This was seriously annoying. Why did his spoiled cousin have to come to Jakarta?
With no choice, Derin left his apartment and headed down to the basement to get his car. He drove to Fireclass as his mother had instructed, trying to contact Jeslyn, who of course didn’t answer. By the time he arrived, he was groaning in annoyance and confusion.
He looked around in every direction like an idiot, searching for his younger cousin, until his eyes found something—or rather, someone—who managed to ease his irritation.
Elana appeared busy with her wet, dirty clothes as she descended the stairs from the upper floor, walking gracefully yet somewhat hurriedly, followed by a man who made Derin frown. A familiar man he knew all too well—the man who was now laughing as he followed Elana, who was laughing with him too.
The infuriating sight reignited Derin’s anger, like a fire that had slowly died down only to be doused with another bucket of gasoline.[]