THE MORNING BREAKFAST
1259 Words
SKY
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing no matter how I tried to push the sound off, it persisted.
Insistently, like whoever was on the other end refused to give up.
I groaned softly and turned, my arm brushing against cold sheets. That alone made my eyes open fully. I pushed myself upright, hair falling into my face, and grabbed the phone from the nightstand.
“Levi.” the caller ID read.
I stared at the screen for a long second before answering.
“Hello,” I said, my voice hoarse as I brought the phone to my ear.
“Sky,” Levi said, sounding oddly casual. “I came by this morning only to notice you didn’t come home last night.”
I let out a slow breath and leaned back against the headboard, suddenly feeling very tired.
Yeah. I was still in William’s suite and for once… I didn’t feel bad about it.
“I stayed in a suite last night,” I replied evenly. “I just needed a change of environment.”
There was a pause on the line.
“You are not the type that wastes money..How come you suddenly want to change your environment?” I felt irritated by his words.
“When I suddenly want to do that now do you have any problem with that?"
“Well,” he said after a moment, “I just wanted to check up on you. I’m heading out for training now. We’ll see each other tonight.”
That was it, he wasn't even concerned that I was giving him a cold shoulder.
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. “Have a good day,” I said.
“Okay,” he replied, and the call ended immediately.
I stared at my phone long after the screen went dark.
He didn’t even ask how I felt. I glanced at the time. 8:45 a.m.
My gaze slowly traveled around the room, taking in my surroundings properly for the first time since waking up.
William’s suite was… something else.
Where Levi’s place felt functional and familiar, this place felt golden. Every decoration had been chosen with intention.
The walls were paneled in soft charcoal and cream, the lighting warm and indirect.
Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across one side of the room, sheer curtains fluttering slightly as the city basked in early sunlight.
The bed alone looked like it belonged in a luxury magazine, wide and impossibly neat even though I had slept in it.
Then I paused, noticing William wasn’t here.
Weirdly, for the first time since I had known him, he hadn’t touched me unnecessarily, or even talked about having s*x.
Last night, after everything, he cooked for me, watched me eat, then left me alone to sleep.
For someone with a notorious Playboy reputation, I hadn’t expected… that.
I shook my head sharply.
“Get a grip, Sky… you can't fall for him.” I wasn’t prepared for that.
My thoughts were interrupted when my phone rang again and speaking of the devil.
I rolled my eyes before answering.
“What?” I snapped.
“Morning to you too, my angry bird,” his amused voice came through.
“What do you want, William?”
“I have sent someone over with outfits for you to wear today,” he said casually. “There’s breakfast waiting for you too. And just in case you decide to be brave, my door code is 0519. You can come in anytime.”
I scoffed. “Not planning to.”
“You promised to spend today with me, so don't think about leaving today.”
“William..”
“Get ready,” he cut in smoothly.
I sat up straighter. “What about people? What if someone sees us?”
“That’s for me to handle,” he replied. “Your job is to look good.” Before I could argue, the call ended.
I stared at the screen in disbelief before letting out a frustrated sigh.
My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.
“What the hell,” I muttered. “I ate last night.”
It growled again, even louder this time.
With a sigh, I padded barefoot across the plush carpet and stepped out of the bedroom.
The living area took my breath away.
The suite opened into a wide space with high ceilings and sleek, modern décor.
A curved leather sofa faced a glass wall overlooking the city.
I followed the subtle clinking sound toward the dining area and stopped short.
The dining table was set like something out of a luxury hotel.
White plates, silver cutlery polished to perfection, crystal glasses catching the morning light.
In the center sat a vase of fresh flowers. On the table were covered dishes, a basket of warm bread, fresh fruit, and neatly arranged bowls of berries and yogurt.
Steam curled faintly from one of the dishes. My lips parted slightly.
Who would have thought William Hale could do this?
I swallowed and shook my head again. “Get yourself together,” I whispered. “He’s not your man.”
I pulled out a chair and sat, lifting the lid off one plate of pancakes which is perfectly golden pancakes.
There were scrambled eggs, grilled vegetables, and fresh juice.
My stomach betrayed me immediately.
I began eating, slower at first, then faster, realizing just how hungry I truly was.
Halfway through, my phone buzzed, and I checked to see it was from Ashley.
Hey girl! Would you like to go to the concert this weekend? I got two tickets.
I smiled faintly and typed back. Yup, I am interested.
Three months of suspension. I might as well enjoy what little freedom I had.
As I set my phone down, another notification popped up.
A headline.
“Camille Gilbert and Levi Grant set the runway on fire during an exclusive modeling shoot.”
My jaw tightened as I tapped it and photos loaded instantly.
Levi and Camille were so lost as they laughed. Her hand rested casually on his arm. His smile was wide, effortless. They looked… comfortable. Like people who shared history.
I scoffed.
“No wonder,” I muttered. “That body isn’t from nowhere.” He lied about going for his training and yet he went there.
Was it because I was suspended and wasn’t part of the team anymore?
I closed the article and locked my phone, forcing myself to keep eating even as the bitterness sat heavy in my chest.
Just then a knock sounded at the door.
I remembered William’s words from earlier, telling me he had sent someone to bring my outfit.
I stood and walked toward the door, wiping my hands on a napkin before opening it.
Two men stood outside staring back at me.
One looked like a high-end stylist, dressed in all black, glasses perched neatly on his nose. The other wore a tailored suit, posture straight, expression unreadable.
“Who… who are you?” I asked, startled.
The man in the suit bowed slightly. “Mr. Hale asked us to assist you this morning.”
“Assist me how?” I asked cautiously.
Before he could answer, the hallway filled with movement.
Three women approached, each carrying large, branded boxes in their arms.
“Styling team,” the man continued smoothly. “Mr. Hale requested you be dressed for the day.” My mouth fell open slightly.
“This is… unnecessary,” I said weakly.
The stylist smiled politely. “Mr. Hale insisted.”
- Writer
