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A right nimble hand, wraps a plaster carefully around its left middle finger.

It's not exactly Louis' fault for this small cut on the pad of his finger.

Okay, no, it's definitely his fault.

But it's no way his fault, that the boredom took over and he decided, what would happen if I tried to see if a stapler would go through my finger?

The answer is, a lot of cussing and a bead of blood welling from his skin.

A knock on his office door makes him physically jump, heart hammering. He snaps his head up, watching as the handle twists and blonde hair silhouettes with the sun rays, pooling through the large windows.

"Fuck, Lotts, nearly shat meself," he mumbles, looking back down to his plastered finger.

Lottie raises a perfectly plucked brow. "Nice to see you too, bro." She shakes her head, amused. "Got a boo boo?" she teases.

He flips her off with his left middle finger. "Staples hurt."

"You're such a child, no wonder Joe loves you so damn much. Speaking of which, I need you to go collect him from school, I have a meeting with Gucci in fifteen minutes, and I cannot miss it." She walks over to the large floor-to-ceiling window, looking at her reflection in order to fix a strand of hair behind her ear.

Louis' mouth hinges open. "Why can't Robert do it? I'm really busy!" It's only a little lie. He does have a load of emails, but Frankie—his personal assistant— mostly answers to them for him.

"So fucking around with a stapler, and probably some paper clip chains, is more important than your nephew?" Lottie turns her head to give Louis a pointed look, blue eyes pinning him down.

He sneaks the paper clip chain into his drawer. He doesn't need to explain that one.

"And a Gucci meeting is more important than your son?" he quips back.

"This is a break through, Louis. For my modeling. You want him to have a good future, don't you?" When he doesn't answer, she continues. "Then I suggest you get off your arse and go get him, he finishes in five."

He huffs out a sigh, pushing off his chair, the wheels gliding it toward the wall behind it.

"Guess I'll see you after the meeting?" he decides.

"I'll pick him up from yours when I'm done," she clarifies, giving Louis a quick hug.

He straightens the cream collar of her primrose chiffon dress, pecking her on the forehead. "Smash it, Lotts."

She grins, tightening his black tie and patting his shoulder. "Thanks, Lou."

With that, they both leave the office, Lottie going over to one of the conference rooms, Louis going toward the lifts.

It's a nice day outside. The sky is dipped in a baby blue, wisps of cloud grazing past the warming sun, casting shadows along the dry ground. Daffodils are just finishing their bloom, wilting slowly, pink blossoms thriving on the trees dotting the pavement.

Louis' convertible slides smoothly into the parking spot, his hair ruffling in the breeze. He pushes his Ray Ban's sunglasses further up his nose, getting out the car.

The school is... preppy, to say the least.

It's brick, it has arched windows, domes at the back of the building, and fucking pillars at the front entrance—many steps leading to the dark wooded doors.

Only a few kids in neat blue blazer uniforms, file out the mouth of the building. Screams, chatter and laughter flitting into the atmosphere.

Louis is slightly late, fifteen minutes the least.

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