Richest Man: It All Started With My Rebate System-Chapter 38: Taking Deliveries

After spending more than fifteen minutes admiring the Ducati and thinking of how it would feel the first time he takes it out for a ride, he decided to return to his apartment.

He was about to step into the elevator attached to the underground garage, when his phone started ringing.

He glanced at the screen, saw that it was an unknown number and he picked the call.

"Mr. Craig, this is the courier service calling on behalf of Burberry. We’re currently about twenty minutes from your location. I wanted to give you advance notice as requested."

"Thanks. I’ll be upstairs," Steven said. "Check in at the front desk when you arrive and let them know you’re here for Mr. Craig."

"Of course. See you shortly."

The call ended. He stepped into the elevator and rode it up.

He had barely set his key card down on the side table when his phone rang again. John Lobb, calling ahead the same way, giving him the same window. He gave the same instructions and ended the call.

He collapsed on the sofa and his thoughts drifted to where the deliveries were going.

The wardrobe in the bedroom was the obvious answer, but the John Lobb boxes would need their own shelf space, and he hadn’t looked properly at what was available.

He stood up and walked to his bedroom.

The wardrobe had more space than he had registered on first look. The upper shelf ran the full width and had room for both shoe boxes comfortably. The hanging rail had space for whatever Burberry was sending, and the lower section had a drawer arrangement that would work for accessories. He hadn’t used any of it yet.

He was still standing in the bedroom doorway when the front desk called up.

"Mr. Craig, there are two couriers in the lobby. One from Burberry and one from John Lobb. Shall I send them up together?"

"Send them up," Steven said.

He went to the front door and opened it, leaving it ajar.

Two minutes later, the elevator at the end of the hallway opened and two men stepped out, each carrying bags and boxes. They spotted the open door and walked toward it.

The Burberry courier arrived at the door a step ahead of the other. He was carrying four large garment bags and two additional bags, all in the brand’s distinctive packaging.

"Mr. Craig? I have your order from Burberry. I’ll need your signature."

Steven signed the delivery form and took the garment bags one by one, setting them carefully across the back of the sofa. The additional bags he placed on the dining table.

The John Lobb courier stepped forward as the first stepped back. He was carrying two slim, branded shoeboxes stacked inside a larger outer box, handled with the particular care that came with knowing what was inside.

"Mr. Craig. Two pairs, City II and William, as ordered. If you could sign here."

Steven signed. The courier handed the box over with both hands and gave a small nod before turning and heading back toward the elevator with the Burberry courier.

Steven closed the door.

He stood in the living area for a moment, looking at the bags arranged across the sofa and the John Lobb box under his arm. The wardrobe was about to look considerably different from this morning.

He carried the John Lobb box to the bedroom first, set it on the bed, and opened it. The two shoeboxes inside were wrapped in tissue, each one immaculate. He lifted the lids in turn. The City II in black calf sat in its box exactly as it had on the store display, clean and unornamented. The William in dark oak antique beside it had the hand-burnished patina he had chosen it for, a depth in the leather that changed slightly depending on the angle.

He set both boxes on the upper shelf of the wardrobe with care and went back to the living area for the Burberry.

He unpacked the garment bags one by one, hanging each piece on the rail. The Heritage Trench first, then the quilted jacket and the wool overcoat. The knitwear and shirts he folded and placed on the lower shelf, and the chinos and trousers he hung beside the jackets. The accessories went into the top drawer. The two pairs of Burberry trainers went below the John Lobb boxes on the upper shelf.

He stepped back and looked at the wardrobe properly for the first time since it had been filled.

It looked like a wardrobe that belonged to someone who had made considered choices and had the means to follow through on them. A week ago, he had been pulling the same rotation of worn clothes from a bag in a corner.

The difference wasn’t subtle.

He was still standing there when his phone rang. It was another unknown number but he could already who it was, so he picked anyway.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Craig. This is the dedicated courier service calling on behalf of Cartier Houston. I’m currently fifteen minutes from your address. I wanted to call ahead as confirmed."

"I’ll be here," Steven said. "Check in at the front desk when you arrive."

"Of course, Mr. Craig. See you shortly."

The call ended.

Steven went back to the living area and sat down. He picked up the controller and continued playing the game, but his attention wasn’t fully on it.

Twelve minutes later, the front desk called up again.

"Mr. Craig, there’s a courier here from Cartier."

"Send them up."

He set the controller down and went to the door.

The courier who stepped out of the elevator was dressed differently from the others. Dark jacket, no branded workwear. He carried a single slim case in both hands, that had a handle and a clasp, and he walked with a deliberate and unhurried pace, like someone who had been specifically briefed on how to carry what he was carrying. Which of course, he had.

"Mr. Craig," he said, stopping at the door. "I have your piece from Cartier Houston. I’ll need your signature and a valid photo ID, as noted on the order."

Steven produced his driver’s licence. The courier checked it, handed it back, and produced a delivery form on a slim clipboard.

Steven signed.

The courier set the case down carefully on the side table just inside the door and unclasped it. Inside, nestled in fitted cream velvet, was the Rotonde de Cartier Grande Complication. The platinum case caught the hallway light and held it.

The courier stepped back.

"It’s yours, Mr. Craig. Enjoy it."

Steven looked at it for a moment, then lifted it carefully from the case and turned it over in his hands. The weight of it felt like he had spent really good money on it, which he had.

He fastened it to his wrist and it sat exactly right.

"Thank you," Steven said.

The courier gave a formal nod, collected the empty case, and left.

Steven closed the door and stood there for a moment, looking at the watch on his wrist.

Everything he had ordered had arrived. The wardrobe was full. The bike was in the garage. The watch was on his wrist.

The day has been perfect so far.

He walked back to the sofa, picked up the controller, and settled into the cushions.

"Nice," he said quietly, and went back to the game.