"Alright," Erica agreed, opening the lid of the gift box.
A finely crafted brooch was lying inside. It was shaped like an orchid, with a sleek
stem that curved gracefully. The centerpiece was adorned with tiny diamonds,
sparkling like crystal-clear ss. Their high quality was in to see.
Erica muttered, "This brooch is pretty, but isn''t it a bit in? Why would Drake
give you this? And the pin is so sharp. It could hurt you."
"Let me see it." Debra reached out her hand, and Erica ced the brooch in her
palm.
She examined it closely, turning it in the light. The tiny diamonds were expertly
cut, their brilliance evident from every angle. It would take a highly-skilled
craftsman to produce something like this.
The orchid design was elegant, with a touch of mysterious allure.
"Drake doesn''t have this kind of taste. This probably wasn''t from him."
"Who was it then?"
Erica leaned closer to get a better look, but there was nothing special beyond its
beauty.
"Keep it safe for me. I like it," Debra said.
Erica nodded. "Alright."
In a car outside, Juan nced at a ring in his hand. The diamond that once
adorned it was gone, leaving only the band. Yet a smile tugged at his mouth.
''Maybe, this is the best oue,'' he thought.
The doorman saw him off and happily counted the money when a sleek sports car
pulled up.
A stylish man stepped out, catching his attention.
It was Michael, wearing sunsses
and a white, trendy suit adorned with
silver sequins. His manager followed
close behind.
belongs to
"You have to walk the red carpet tonight."
"It''s just a wedding. No rush."
"A wedding? What if the paparazzi catch you? Then Ms. Frazier will be on my
case again."
The manager tried to stop Michael, but he had already made his way to the hotel
entrance.
The doorman was astounded as he
recognized Michael. He instinctively
wanted to ask for an autograph, but
a motorcycle screeched to a stop
right in front of him.
The rider''s voice was muffled behind the helmet. "Deliver this gift upstairs. Keep
the tip."
Jordan tossed a gift box and an envelope of cash into his arms.
The doorman''s mouth was agape.
''What kind of asion is this? Mr.
Lowe, a masked man, a movie star,
and now a motorcycle guy?
Confused but dutiful, he made his way upstairs.
By then, Michael had already knocked on the door to the suite.
Debra, who was having her hair styled, looked up and muttered in surprise, "Your
assistant told me you were busy today."
"It''s your big day. How could I not show up? After all, you''re my most important
business partner," Michael replied.
Just then, the doorman came in with another package. "Ms. Frazier, this is for
you."