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Though Lukan utilized the assistance of a veritable army of talent scouts to find individuals and bring them into the fold, he’d never stayed his hand at doing it, himself. It carried with it the benefit of not needing countless pages of signatures and red tape. When he could look through an artist’s body of work and approve them post haste, it saved all parties involved quite a bit of time, indeed.
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He’d worked with SHEBA INOUE before, with much success and enjoyment-- he hoped-- for both of them. She was a beautiful woman-- had been, was now, and, likely, would always be, though she’d recently bowed out of the limelight. She had many other talents, of course, but Lukan was, despite all evidence to the contrary, a simple man, and one of his greatest joys in life was dressing a beautiful woman.
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“These are the newest pieces from the ‘24 resort collection,” he explained as he shifted through a rack of dresses and separates, in a series of satiny metallic sheens that ran through his fingers like liquid. “Gold will compliment your coloring quite nicely. If these are too formal for your tastes…” he stepped back and gestured to another rack, which had a series of more conservative dresses with soft pastel florals “...these might suit. Take your pick.” He smiled at her as he straightened a shoulder on a hanger, a real, genuine smile.
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Those who would come to know Luke would discover that he liked clothes. They were a bit of a private passion for him. He jumped at the chance to dress anyone, and the act of tailoring a wardrobe to someone was one of the greatest ways he showed his affection. It was one of the only times he let his guard down. He wasn’t flaunting his wealth or his taste for pride’s sake, he was doing it because he enjoyed it.

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