Sacked The Stylist

Chapter 3 - Nothing Like The Present

As the first rays of sunlight peeked over the San Francisco skyline, the Fairmont Hotel's Presidential Suite basked in the morning glow. The view was pure magic: the bay shimmering like molten gold, the Golden Gate Bridge draped in soft hues of pink and orange, and seagulls coasting lazily in the pastel sky. The city below began to stir, but up here, perched high above the chaos, the suite was a sanctuary of stillness.

Kai's automatic curtains drew back with the precision of a Broadway curtain call, allowing the sunlight to spill into the room. He stirred in his plush, king-sized bed, wrapped in Egyptian cotton sheets that clung lightly to his toned frame. The light crept across his body, illuminating caramel mocha skin that seemed to glow naturally, even first thing in the morning. Kai stretched, the slow, deliberate movement making his abs ripple like an Instagram thirst trap in motion. His Tom Ford boxers sat low on his hips, teasing the start of a sharp V-line that could cause whiplash.

As the light fully claimed the room, Kai rolled onto his back with a contented sigh. He propped himself up slightly, his lean, sculpted arms flexing without effort. "Ain't no better alarm clock than the sun," Kai mumbled to himself, his voice still thick with sleep. He dragged a hand over his smooth jawline, marveling that even his bedhead somehow looked editorial.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Kai planted his feet on the luxuriously soft carpet, wiggling his toes like he was auditioning for a lotion commercial. After a few seconds he stood, and stretched, raising his arms high above his head. His lean body elongated, revealing even more defined muscles. Kai's juicy, perky ass, perfectly shaped, added to his overall allure. He twisted his torso slightly, feeling the satisfying stretch of his muscles waking up.

"God really did his thing with me," Kai said with a smirk, admiring his reflection in the glass balcony door. "I'm out here built like an Olympic torch, lighting up lives one client at a time."

Kai's mind was already shifting gears, thinking about the busy day ahead. He had fittings to conduct, looks to finalize, and of course, his clients to impress. But for now, he allowed himself a few more moments of tranquility. He moved toward the bathroom, the soft light of the suite creating a serene path for him.

 The bathroom was a spa-like oasis: gleaming marble, gold fixtures, and a rainfall shower that seemed designed for photo ops. Kai stepped in, letting the warm water cascade over his body, each droplet accentuating his curves and angles. As the steam rose around him, his thoughts wandered to Nate Bucket.

"Nate Bucket," he muttered, shaking his head with a mix of exasperation and intrigue. "Who even keeps a last name like that in 2024?" But the memories of Florida still clung to him like the steam around his skin. Moonlit beaches, their fingers entwined in the sand, the way Nate's lips found every inch of him like a treasure map. Kai closed his eyes, the warmth of the water matching the heat of the recollections.

"Focus, Kai," he whispered to himself, snapping back to the present. "You've got fittings today, and ain't nobody got time for old flames with new drama."

Stepping out of the shower, Kai wrapped a plush towel around his waist and took a moment to appreciate himself in the mirror. His curls, perfectly hydrated and bouncing like they had their own PR team, framed his face in just the right way. He smirked at his reflection. "They don't make 'em like me no more," he said, applying a moisturizer that made his skin gleam like he was his own sponsor.

After slipping into a fitted black short-sleeve turtleneck that hugged his torso like it was custom-made for his abs, Kai paired it with tailored trousers that showcased his long legs and leather loafers that whispered sophistication. The outfit said, I'm here to slay, but also, let's brunch.