Excitedly, Elizabeth pulled out her phone. “I’ll book your ticket right away and let Dad know. He’ll be thrilled you’re coming back.”
Two days later, Luther’s film commenced shooting at the picturesque Seamarine Garden.
Stella, having received the dress code well in advance, instructed the studio staff to fervently engage in the design process.
Amidst overseeing her team’s work, Stella’s thoughts drifted to Flossie.
Miley’s revelation about being unable to reach Flossie had lingered in her mind, prompting her to make frequent calls to Flossie herself.
Yet, each attempt met with the same outcome—unanswered.
The persistent busy tones deepened Stella’s frown and fueled her growing concern. What could have possibly happened to Flossie?
Lost in her worries, Stella’s phone abruptly rang, snapping her back to reality.
Her eyes lit up, hoping it was Flossie, but the caller ID displayed Jax Green, Luther’s assistant.
Stella’s brief spark of hope faded, replaced by a composed demeanor as she answered, “Hello, Jax. What’s the matter?”
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“Stella, we’ve got a problem.” Jax’s voice, tinged with urgency, came through. “The rolling ceremony is imminent, but Luka’s outfit was torn. The press will be here any moment. We need your expertise!”
Without a second thought, Stella responded assertively, “I’ll be on my way.”
She swiftly gathered an assortment of clothes and accessories, possibly useful for the crisis, and beckoned her assistant, Evie.
Since expanding her studio, Stella had brought on several assistants, including Evie, to ease her workload.
“Evie, grab your things. We’re heading to the set,” she instructed.
Evie, abandoning her pencil, joined Stella in a flurry of preparation.
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They hailed a taxi and sped towards Seamarine Garden, the urgency in Stella’s voice shortening the journey from thirty minutes to twenty.
Upon arrival, Stella and Evie, laden with bags, hurriedly alighted.
Stella, ever the mentor, turned to Evie to impart some last-minute guidance, oblivious to her surroundings.
In her haste, she collided with a woman donning sunglasses, sending their bags tumbling and its contents sprawling to the ground.
Flustered, Stella crouched to retrieve the scattered items, apologizing profusely without looking up. “I’m terribly sorry. Are you alright?”
The woman, revealed to be Bella, responded gently, “No harm done.”
However, her attention was captivated by the garments on the ground.
Lifting a long windbreaker, she regarded Stella with astonishment.