"Please cancel it for me then."

Mark capped his pen, grabbed his coat, and stood up, ready to step out for something special.

The item had been air-freighted from Ypsila.

He'd received a phone call earlier that morning.

Closing the office blinds, Mark turned to his secretary, "I won't be returning to the office today."

His secretary noticed his uplifted mood and smiled.

"Mr. Evans, are you planning to meet with Miss Fowler?"

A faint smile crossed Mark's Lips.

He offered no denial.

Descending the stairs, Mark found his driver already waiting. He stepped into the car.

The limousine proceeded to tail the security vehicle, one in front of the other.

The driver peered into the rearview mirror.

“Mr. Evans, where should I take you?"

Mark told the driver the address.

With a deft maneuver, the driver redirected the vehicle.

Twenty minutes later, they arrived in front of an elite salon. The establishment's manager was already standing by, poised to welcome them.

The manager graciously held the door open for Mark.

"Mr. Evans, the VAR piece you've commissioned is ready. Would you like to have your wife try it on, or..."

Mark followed her inside, his tone casual.

"I'll take it with me now."