I turned into the brightest shade of red, his declaration making me feel tingly and warm all over. Unable to meet his gaze, I shyly bury my head in his chest, between the open folds of his white cotton shirt.
All the doctors and nurses went “Awww” as he carried me out of the suite into the hallway. Momentarily glancing at him, I whispered, “Please put me down Mr. Holt, people are staring at us.”
“I quite like the attention” he nonchalantly replied, continuing to carry me in his arms. David directs us to take the backdoor of the hospital since there was press waiting for us upfront. “Eh, how did they know we were here? And can you please tell me what happened after I blacked out last night? I questioned all puzzled, none of this making sense.
(Kissing me on the forehead) “Hush my baby girl, you need to rest for now” he spoke, cuddling me closer after helping me get seated in his massive Rolls Royce Phantom. As we approached 171 Madison Avenue, we were greeted by the pesky press again. Mr. Holt’s chief of security walks over to the media executives and says something which makes all the reporters go away. We enter the private elevator and stop at the topmost floor, 150th to be precise. I thought his suite at Four Seasons was opulent but what I saw took my breath away!!
In the double-height living room, a Beniot designer sofa was covered in a Métahores fabric and accented by a Chermès throw is joined by several intriguing vintage pieces, including a Montana Arte side table, an Aldo Bhale cocktail table, and an Edward Kingsley sofa.