The call came just past seven in the morning, slicing through the silence of the penthouse like a blade. Logan groaned, rolling over in bed, the sheet slipping low on his hip. Aurora was already up—he could smell the faint trace of her black coffee in the air and hear the muted tap of her phone screen as she paced by the balcony window.
He grabbed his phone without looking at the number and answered with a groggy, "What?"
"Mr. Mason, this is Isabelle, your new assistant. Just confirming that your car will arrive at eight sharp for the 'Crimson Sin' shoot. We've moved the location to the Docklands studio."
Logan blinked. "Isabelle? Wait, new assistant?"
"Yes, sir. Management didn't tell you?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. They didn't."
"We'll go over the schedule on set," she continued. "You've got press, two interviews, and the teaser shoot with Sonya. Call sheet was sent to your email."
He hung up with a grunt and tossed the phone onto the mattress.
