After a full week of working, the last thing I want to do is kick off my weekend by attending dinner with my parents. I would rather walk over burning coals than have to sit through another two-hour dinner with my mother and father.
The only thing making it bearable is Logan, my boyfriend of four years. Since my parents returned from touring, they insist we get together every Friday for dinner. I admit I miss them while they’re away, and I do love catching up from time-to-time, but every week is a bit ridiculous.
I’m in serious need of some fun; ‘fun with a capital F’, as they say. My plan is to rush through dinner, and meet up with Brooklyn to go and let loose. Brooklyn’s my best friend and partner in crime. We’ve known each other our entire lives, and it seems we’ve become more like sisters than friends.
Our mothers had the same relationship, so while my parents were performing their world tours, I spent every free moment at Brooklyn’s in an attempt to escape the maids, butlers and nannies that filled my house.
Part of me knows that I was blessed to grow up in a huge mansion with the freedom to come and go as I pleased. It was fun, at first, to be a teenager with no one to answer to, but it got old. Sometimes, I just wanted a father who sat up all night waiting for me to get home from a date. I think I was the only girl who wished for a curfew.
Instead, I settled for a butler who was kind enough to wait up, and let me inside if I was too drunk. I know that my parents did the best they could to spend as much time with me as possible, but when your country music’s number one singing duo it’s hard to find more than a few hours a week. Our time together consisted of hurried phone calls, texts, emails, and distracted video chats, with very little actual face to face contact.
I finally round the corner to my parent’s gated community, and pray Logan has already arrived so we can get dinner started as soon as possible. I met Logan four years ago at one of my parents’ annual parties in the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel.
Logan’s father is my mother’s plastic surgeon, and since he does such an extraordinary job of keeping her thirty-year-old looks, he gets a VIP invite to all their lavish parties. I lucked out when he brought Logan as his plus one. He took my breath away the moment I laid eyes on him.
He was tall and tanned, with a well-built surfer’s body. His gorgeous, naturally blonde hair was cut short along the sides and back but longer on top. I loved how he kept it natural looking. The complete lack of product made me yearn to run my fingers through it, especially after he had spent the day in the salty water of the Pacific. His eyes were such a bright blue that it almost seemed like they were glowing; I could look into those eyes all day, and his smile is the sexiest thing I have ever seen on a man.
“Thank you God,” I whisper to myself, as I pull into my parent’s driveway and see Logan’s car parked out front. The house really was breathtaking, and every time I see it I feel blessed to have been raised in such a magnificent home.
It’s a three story Southern Colonial style house built completely from luscious red brick with towering white pillars outside the entire first level, and inviting steps leading up to a fantastic porch. The second story has a full balcony, and floor to ceiling windows that are framed by white shutters that cover the entire front of the house.
Outside our home, and wrapping around both sides of our entrance, are vast gardens with shrubs and flower bushes. The first thing you notice as you pull into the drive is a Victorian style water fountain; the majesty of which makes you feel like you’re entering a house in Memphis, rather than Beverly Hills. This is the full intention of my Tennessee born parents, who wanted to bring a little Southern living when we moved to Los Angeles.
I was five when we moved into this house, and I only moved out two years ago when Brooklyn and I finally decided to get our own place in the Hollywood Hills. Brooklyn’s father is CEO of The Queen Victoria cruise line and subsidizes her half of the rent until her “acting career” picks up. This allows us to live in a place overlooking the “Hollywood” sign, with an incredible view of L.A.
“Hey sweetie, how was work?” My mother asks, pulling me in for a hug as I enter the house.
She looks as beautiful as ever in her dress pants, and silk sleeveless top. She has the same long blonde hair as I do, but hers stops at her shoulder blades and mine is down to my butt. I’m told all the time that I look like my mother. It’s a compliment, as I cannot deny she’s beautiful.
We both have bright blue eyes, tiny petite noses, and heart shaped faces. Our family is blessed with a high metabolism, and curves in all the right places. The only thing different about us is our height. She is 5’8”, and I, unfortunately got the raw end of the deal, coming up at just 5’3”.
After a very light hug, and air kisses, we enter the living room to join my dad and Logan.
“Work has been amazing! We’re working on this huge issue we have coming up: The Most Influential Men of 2012. Eloise has almost the entire list completed, and I get the fun part of picking out the best photo to use for each man. I also get to assist in interviewing a few of them!” I’m giddy just thinking about it, as I sit down on the over-sized sectional.
Putting my hand on Logan’s thigh, I rest my lips against his ear and whisper “Hello”. I plant a gentle kiss on his cheek and smile up into his gorgeous baby blues.
“Well hello to you, too.” His smile instantly makes me turn into putty on the couch.
He gently traces his fingers up and down my back, as his eyes drift from me back to the game. Logan isn’t a huge fan of being overly affectionate in front of my parents. He says he feels that it’s disrespectful. Sliding my hand into his, I snuggle up against him, and focus my attention on my father, who’s glued to the wide screen television.
“Hey Dad, how’s the game going?” I ask, as he turns and flashes me a small smile. He’s lounging in his large leather recliner, donned in his favorite fashion ensemble: blue jeans, cowboy boots, and tight fitting black t-shirt. He could easily pass for a decade younger than his forty-five years, with his jet black hair shaved to the scalp and well groomed goatee. He is six feet tall, but his demeanor easily tricks you into thinking he’s closer to seven.
Maverick Livingston only takes one thing as seriously as his music, surprisingly, and that’s college football. He has it pre-set on the DVR to record automatically every week that way no matter what he’s doing, can still catch the game.
“Going great, honey. Tennessee is winning twenty-four nil,” he replies, grinning ear to ear. He may live in Beverly Hills, but his heart and soul are in Tennessee.
“Paisley, I have to know what’s for dinner. It smells absolutely delicious!” Logan asks, rubbing his stomach as he walks into the kitchen. He can be so suave and adorable, all at the same time.
“Roasted chicken, BBQ ribs, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans and freshly baked sweet rolls. For dessert, we have your favorite Logan: peach cobbler! Mrs. Trinton and I have been slaving away in the kitchen all afternoon, and I have to agree it does look and smell exquisite.” My mother says, smiling sweetly back at Logan.
Thankfully dinner goes by smoothly and quickly. Dad and Logan discuss the football season, and whom they think will end up in the bowl games. I know very little about the sport, and avoid the conversation altogether, instead choosing to talk with my mother about my job at Envy.
Envy is one of the world’s most popular magazines, covering everything from celebrity weddings and babies, top movies and music to this season’s hottest fashion trends. Its success is International, and I’m thrilled to have finally landed my dream job there.
Following a three-year internship, I took a chance on an Assistant Editor position for Eloise Spaulding; a vacancy thought to be one of the most sought after, in L.A., I couldn’t believe it when I found out they’d picked me – it’s such a huge accomplishment for someone my age.
We thanked my parents for a lovely dinner and said our goodbyes. As Logan and I walk to our cars, I send Brooklyn a quick text:
Me:
Hey girl! Just leaving my parent’s house. You up for some dancing at Vertigo??
Less than a minute later my phones buzzing, alerting me I got a new text.
Brooklyn:
Are you kidding? I was BORN READY! lol, I’m at the house already, my audition for As The Days Go By went okay, fingers crossed! I’ll start getting ready, see you in a few! xoxo
“I just sent Brooklyn a quick text to see if she wanted to go to Vertigo tonight, she said definitely,” I laugh.
“I think that girl would party for a living, if she could,” Logan says dryly, snaking his arm around my waist, and walking with me towards my car.
To say he isn’t Brooklyn’s biggest fan, would be putting it very lightly. Their personalities are total opposites, and Logan can’t stand her; I can never quite get my head around it though; it’s frustrating to say the least. Life would be a whole lot easier, if they’d just get along.
“So, are you up for joining us? We can head back to your place for the night, if you don’t want to stay at our house”.
Logan lets out a long sigh, "I’m exhausted, and I have a stack of paperwork to do when I get home. How about you and Brooklyn go out and have fun, and we can get together tomorrow for lunch?” Opening my car door for me, Logan grips the top of the door; leaning down our lips connect for a short, sweet kiss.
Pulling away from my lips, he leaves them aching for more. Smiling up at him, I gaze into his mesmerizing, bright blue eyes. “Okay, but you know if you want me to skip the club and stay in with you tonight, I’m fine with that. I can pop some popcorn, and watch a movie or something while you work?”
“No, don’t be silly; you go have fun and dance until your feet want to fall off. You’ve worked all week; you deserve to have some fun,” with another quick kiss, he’s in his car and driving away.
Buckling up, I turn the key, firing up the engine. I love my car; it was a gift from my parents last year for my twenty-third birthday. They thought my last car had been driven long enough…If you consider four and a half years a long time, that is. It’s a white, 2012 A5 convertible; my dream car, and a huge step up from the convertible Volkswagen Beetle my parents bought me for my high school graduation.
Tonight I’m going to have fun with or without Logan. Sometimes it’s depressing having a boyfriend who would rather sit at home and read Time magazine than go out clubbing with me. I guess it comes with the territory when you’re dating a thirty-two-year-old focused on building a business empire, and not so much into going out and partying.
He said he did all that in college, now it’s time to focus on making his business a success. That’s one of the many reasons I love him, though. He’s determined to build a successful business to provide for us when it comes time to getting married, and start a family.
Walking into our two-story Hollywood Hills home, Brooklyn is already dressed to impress in a very tight, very revealing black dress, with a plunging neckline and open back. She’s paired it with fantastic black, glitter peep toe heels; their red soles easily distinguishing them as Christian Louboutin to anyone who knows anything about shoes.
I whistle when she spins in front of me, “You look HOT! I think you’re going to be beating the boys off you at Vertigo tonight!”
Brooklyn is gorgeous. She has intense, brown eyes and dark auburn hair, which cascades in light curls around her face, and stops to draw attention to the right place on her impressive chest. She’s a good few inches taller than me, with legs to die for. They seem to go on forever – one of the reasons; I imagine; guys cannot keep their eyes off of her.
“Thank you,” she laughs. “All I know, is I’m finding myself a hot guy to go home with. I skipped the gym today, but fully intend on getting a good, hard workout in tonight.” A small laugh escapes her lips. Winking at me, she struts up to the kitchen island and hops up onto a bar stool.
Rolling my eyes, I flash a small smile at Brooklyn as I head into my room to get ready. “Believe me, dressed like that, there’s no way you will have a problem finding a nice piece of ass to help you burn off some calories.”
I pick out my favorite white halter dress, the one with silver sequins around my neck. I need something stylish but cool, because God knows; it’s going to be smoldering in that club. I throw on a pair of silver glitter heels, and I’m ready to go.
“Let me guess? Logan was tired, and insisted we go to the club on our own? I honestly don’t know what you see in that guy. Yeah, he’s freaking hotter than hot, but he has the personality of a ninety-year-old man,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, but he’s sweet; there’s nothing wrong with a man who’s determined to be on our list of Most Influential Men one day!” I’m trying to be as serious as possible, without laughing my ass off at her stupid facial expressions. “Okay! I admit he can be boring, but he sure as hell makes up for it in the bedroom,” Winking at Brooklyn, I can’t contain my laughter. Her eyes are about to pop right out of their sockets.
“Oh. My. God! Savannah, believe me; I’ve heard you enough times to know. Please do not remind me! I’m worried about you. I swear if you were getting mind blowing sex from Jared Leto, then I would be creaming in my panties. But mind blowing sex with Logan Sanders? Yuck! I think I just puked a little in my mouth,” she says, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Brooklyn Bennett: Always Miss Dramatic.
“I am sorry, but he just rubs me the wrong way,” she continues. “He is such a pompous ass sometimes. I would love to throw one of my high heels at him and ruin his ‘too gorgeous for him’ face. Then it will finally match his personality.” She starts laughing hysterically, “It makes me giddy just thinking about it.”
“Okay, okay…I get it! You hate my boyfriend. But can you please keep your eyes on the road, and try to not kill me before we get to the club?” I ask, rolling my eyes and pointing at the road.
I’m surprised her Jeep is still on the road, from the way she drives; especially in the middle of Los Angeles’ insane traffic, on her way to all her auditions.
When we arrive at the club, it’s already packed, but thankfully we are VIPs, so we sail right past the mile-long queue. Rihanna’s Rude Boy is blasting through the speakers, sending jolts of electricity through my body and tingling at my toes. Dancing to heart thumping music is the next best thing to sex.
“I’ve been waiting for this all week,” I scream over to Brooklyn while we wait at the bar for our drinks, swaying to the music.
“Girl, we are going to dance our asses off tonight, let loose and maybe make out with tons of sexy ass men,” she yells back at me, while making kiss lips in my face.
“Maybe you will be kissing a handful or two of guys, but my lips will not be. I will, however, enjoy myself watching you make out with some sexy ass men. I can live vicariously through you.” I wink at her and pull my drink from her hand.
We weren’t even halfway through our drinks before men start flocking to our table, offering to buy us drinks and take us to the dance floor. Brooklyn was eating it up. She thrives on attention, and she’s never disappointed.
I look at the men, and think of Logan. There’s nothing wrong with dancing as long it doesn’t go too far, so I make my way to the dance floor. We dance for hours with a group of guys who are definitely easy on the eyes. Two of them attempted more than once to grab my ass and try to kiss me, but I quickly put a stop to it, and after a few rejections they got the hint.
My feet are aching, so I decide to rest them at the bar, and get a refill on my White Russian. As I reach into my purse, I feel it vibrate and know it has to be Logan calling me, or sending a goodnight text. My heart flutters just thinking about him. When I pull my phone out, two new text messages show on my screen…I’m right.
Logan:
Hey babe just wanted to see if you were having a good time, miss you xoxo
I scroll to the next one and reading it puts the biggest smile on my face.
Logan:
You must be having a blast with Brooklyn; I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch. Miss you so much, wish you were here
I send a quick text back asking if he wants me to leave and head over to spend the night, but he texted me back insisting I stay and have my girl’s night.
After dancing for two more hours, I look over to the bathrooms, and see Brooklyn getting hot and heavy with one of the guys we met earlier. Well, it looks like she'll be getting that work out in tonight, I say to myself, tipping back the rest of my drink.
Well, at least one of us is getting laid. Looks like I will, yet again, be having a date with my “B.O.B” -Battery Operated Boyfriend, while Brooklyn gets her world rocked by a real man. I haven’t had sex since last Sunday; you’d think Logan would be begging me to come over and rip his clothes off.
I decide to send him another text, letting him know we’re calling a cab and heading home. It’s around 1:00 a.m., but I figure there’s a chance he could still be awake. Brooklyn decided to leave her Jeep in the parking garage for the night. I told her I can drop her off to get it on my way to lunch with Logan tomorrow.
“Who are you texting? Logan?” Brooklyn giggles, while trying to stand on the curb.
Thankfully her boy toy isn’t too drunk so he can help her stand until our cab gets here. I only had three drinks, and not really feeling anything besides a vague buzz, but I don’t want to chance driving.
Getting a DUI wouldn’t be the best idea after just getting promoted, and I don’t need my face all over magazines like the one I work for. The downfall of having “Country Music’s Number One Duo” for your parents is anyone, and everyone thinks your business is their business.
“I’m texting Logan really quick, telling him goodnight and letting him know we’re heading home. He’s more than likely asleep by now, but you never know, maybe he had a lot of work to do and is still awake.”
“Why even text him to say goodnight? I think you should get your ass in that cab and have it bring you to Logan’s. Go pull that stick out of his ass, and tell him you need some mind blowing, toe curling sex and you are not waiting until tomorrow!” She yells for the entire street to hear, then bursts out laughing again.
Man, she’s trashed.
Hopefully she stays awake long enough to even have sex with Mr. I look like a rock band wannabe.
“You’re right! I think he would love for me to come over after five days of nothing! He should be over the moon if I show up ready to tie him up, and show him a good time,” I giggle as Brooklyn makes a face of utter disgust, sticking her tongue out and making a gagging noise. Ignoring her, I continue, “He texted me earlier saying he missed me. I think he insisted on my coming out with you tonight only because he knew how badly I needed to get out, and have some fun after such a stressful week at work.”
With that, I made up my mind; why should she be the only one with a nice warm body in her bed tonight? I have a boyfriend, and I have no reason to sleep alone. After seeing her all hot and heavy with, tall, scrawny, and trying too hard to look like a bad boy over there; I needed sex…now.
Sharing a cab ride with Brooklyn, and her flavor of the hour is interesting, to say the least. He’s kissing up and down her neck and collarbone, and groping her ass in the back of the cab. This time, it’s my turn to make a gag face. I finally learn his name is Trey, but only because Brooklyn keeps saying it over and over as he caresses her body.
I’m sure I won’t need this fact though, as I’m pretty certain neither of us will ever see him again after tonight.
After the cab drops off the two lovebirds, I tell him to head over to the Flynn Hotel & Suites where Logan lives. I hope he isn’t too exhausted from working all night; he has a lot going on with new partners joining his modeling agency.
If he is asleep though, I know a few ways to wake him up. I feel the butterflies fluttering in my stomach as I step out of the cab; I don’t normally just pop in and surprise him, but I think he’ll appreciate my spontaneity.