I spot Logan with a group of co-workers, discussing God knows what, over glasses of scotch. When I approach him, every guy he is talking to averts his eyes toward me. One of the men, whom I’ve only met a few times, I believe his name is Nathan, has his mouth curled up in a wicked grin and his eyes are scanning me up and down. It made my skin crawl.
“Logan, you sure hit the jackpot with this one” he grins, elbowing Logan in the ribs. “If she were my girlfriend, I would never leave the bedroom.”
“Hey, jackass, that is no way to speak about a lady,” one of the other guys says, seeming to come to my defense. Yet the way his eyes are screaming for me suggests he agrees with his friend. I feel like I need a shower after spending a few seconds with these sleaze balls.
“Thank you Derrick, I think Nathan has had one too many scotch on the rocks tonight. He has a loose tongue that can get him into some serious trouble.” Logan turns toward Nathan and raises an accusing eyebrow at him.
“How’s my lovely Savannah enjoying the party?” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him.
I turn my head towards him and look up into his mesmerizing gaze. Even surrounded by these idiots, just looking at Logan could put my mind at ease. “I’m having a lot of fun. Brooklyn, Reagan and I have been spending most of the night dancing and admiring all the different masks and outfits. It’s going to be a tough one deciding who has the best costume.”
I hear someone shout my name somewhere behind me, and spin around to spot Megan Nelson walking out of the ladies’ room. Megan is Logan’s number one client; she is the star of the biggest movie this year and is subsequently on everyone’s list for “best actress” at the Academy Awards this year.
She’s five feet six with long, black hair falling just below her shoulder blades and a body many would pay thousands of dollars to have. Her naturally beautiful, high cheekbones, plump lips and almond shaped chocolate brown eyes are to die for.
Every guy in the place watches her as she sashays over to us, “Oh. My. God. This party is amazing!” She quickly hugs first me, and then Logan; careful not to spill her glass of champagne. “People really went all out with their costumes, didn’t they? I feel bad for wearing this little black dress and mask. I’m underdressed to say the least.” She giggles.
“Believe me, you are not underdressed; you have every guy in here salivating over you. If I swung that way, girl, I would be all over you,” I say, as Megan’s eyes sparkle with glee.
“Okay Savannah, if you think I look so hot let's test your theory. Let’s see how quickly I can get a man to sweep me off my feet. I’m in the mood for some good elevator sex if you know what I mean?” Winking at me, she grabs my hand and yanks me across the ballroom.
I glance back at Logan and shrug my shoulders. Well, at least we got to spend a few minutes together, before another distraction popped up.
Reagan and Brooklyn soon drag themselves away from the bar and join us. I smile at Reagan, who is eyeballing Megan from behind, and mouth, “She wants hot elevator sex,” his eyes grow as big as saucers, and he gives me a thumbs up. Before I know it, Reagan and Megan were all over each other, heading out towards the lobby.
Brooklyn flops down in the seat beside me and hands me a glass of white wine. “You look like you could use another drink,” She smirks at me, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “Plus, I’m not getting drunk on my own.”
“What can I say? I wouldn’t be your best friend if I let you drink alone.” With that, we tip our glasses back and start laughing, “This party sucks. Seriously, there is nothing but snotty, anorexic bitches, which have done nothing but shoot daggers at us all night. To top it off, I’ve been hit on by a hundred, sleazy ass men tonight. I swear Reagan is the only guy in this place who isn’t a major douche, and that’s putting it lightly.” Brooklyn rants, leaning onto the table and resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
She was right. I’ve never in my life had so many women look like they despise me. I feel like I’m in a snake hole surrounded by vipers ready to sink their teeth into my veins, and fill me with their venom. “I thought I was the only one who noticed. Every woman in here, besides my mother and Megan, seem to be giving me the death stare.”
“It isn’t just you, believe me I noticed too. This place is full of some catty bitches tonight. I think all the alcohol just fuels them with liquid courage. Believe me; I will not hesitate to knock a bitch out, if they say one cross word to you or me.” Brooklyn shoots a look at one of the girls standing by the bar; she was dead serious.
Brooklyn may look sweet and innocent, but she can be a scrappy bitch. I have seen her knock out a few women in clubs, and I would not want to be on the wrong side of her, that’s for sure.
Logan and my parents soon join us at the table to eat; dinner is so exquisite that I shock myself and manage to eat half my plate. Logan seems nervous throughout dinner; he’s been acting odd all night actually. I assume his nerves must be getting the best of him; this is a huge night for him, so it’s understandable.
Logan finally breaks away from his socializing and dances with me for a few songs. It’s nice being able to just lay my head against his chest and enjoy this night with him. It seems since we started dancing though that the attitude I’m getting from all the women here is getting worse. They’re acting like I’ve stolen the last celery stick from the veggie platter or something. It’s getting beyond ridiculous; I haven’t spoken more than two words to these people over the four years that Logan and I have been together. A few happen to “accidentally” bump into me while walking to the bar to get drinks. I will do anything to take my mind off the high school drama transpiring at this party, and I was way over my three drink rule, but I didn’t care if I got totally slammed tonight.
Logan hands me my drink and looks at me sympathetically, “I am sorry I haven’t been able to spend much time with you tonight, I hope you’re not too upset with me.” He reaches for my hand and brings it up to his mouth, gently kissing it and sending chills up my spine.
“I understand; I’m just happy that your night is going so well. I hear a lot of buzz going on the closer we are getting to midnight. People really want to get their hands on those court side seats.” I wrap my arms around him and pull him in for a hug, “I cherish every moment with you, Logan. I’ve had a lot of fun tonight. Brooklyn has kept me busy, so had Reagan earlier, but he and Megan seems to have gotten lost somewhere in this hotel.” I say sarcastically, and roll my eyes.
Everyone starts gathering onto the dance floor, preparing to shed their masks for the announcement of “best costume”. Every man in the room has their fingers crossed that either they or their partners will win; they wanted those Lakers tickets badly.
I spot Brooklyn trying to maneuver her way through the crowd. She wasn’t exactly hard to find with that hot pink dress and mask. “I’m glad I couldn’t care less about basketball. I think these people would sell their first born child for the chance to meet Kobe Bryant,” she says, as she leans over and rests her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. “I was outside trying to get some air that isn’t thick with despair” she giggles. I heard them announcing it was midnight, so I ran my ass back inside. I cannot wait to get this itchy mask off!”
“You’re such a drama queen, Brooklyn Abigail Bennett. But you are right; these things itch something awful. I’ll probably have red blotches all over my face when I finally get to take this damn thing off.” Grabbing her hand, we wait as they count down. “10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” and together we tear our masks off. I look over at Brooklyn and see the look of pure panic in her eyes; her mouth is partially open, as if she’s trying to speak, but nothing will come out. My stomach immediately starts turning, and I can feel the panic boiling in my veins. Then a spotlight points at me, and as I look around at everyone behind Brooklyn, they’re all covering their mouths and pointing at me. Oh. My. God…did I really get red and blotchy from wearing my mask? Each second that passes feels like an eternity.
I feel Logan pull on my hand, and I spin round to find him bending down on one knee. Oh no, this cannot be happening. I despise attention, and right now the entire room has their eyes on me, burning holes into my skin. I feel faint, and am certain I’m going to pass out and embarrass myself and Logan. Is he seriously doing this, RIGHT NOW?!
I find my mother and father’s faces in the crowd, and they’re both beaming with pride. The man they care so much for is finally proposing to me. I’m suddenly blinded by flash bulbs going off all around me. Great, this is going to be all over the news tomorrow. I always imagined this moment being romantic and intimate, just between Logan and I; not surrounded by glaring women and a ton of strangers that I didn’t know.
I force a small smile on my face, and stare down into Logan’s eyes; he looks so nervous. I can just imagine all the thoughts bouncing around in his head right now. I take in a deep breath, and slowly let it out, trying to find the strength to say something, anything. All I can get to come out of my mouth is: “Logan?”
“Savannah Elizabeth Livingston, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I glance around at everyone watching me and try to swallow the lump in my throat. I reply simply with, “Yes.”
Logan jumps up, and sweeps me up in his arms, kissing me passionately, not caring at all about the thousands of people all around us. His rules about PDA have just flown out of the window, as I agree to be his wife.
Caught up in the moment, I return his kiss and when he finally sets me back on the ground my head is spinning. I suddenly feel another set of arms wrap around me. I recognize the perfume; it’s my mother.
“Oh, I’m so excited. It’s been so hard keeping this a secret from you, sweetie. Logan asked your father earlier this week for your hand in marriage; isn’t that the sweetest thing? Very old fashioned.”
My father stepped around my mother and pulled me into a hug. “Congrats sweetie, you’ve found an amazing man. I know Logan is gonna make you very happy.” He kisses me on the cheek, and walks away to talk to some paparazzi, probably wanting the first statement on my engagement.
“I cannot believe this really happened,” I manage to spit out. I glance down at my hand, regarding the massive diamond sitting on my left ring finger. It looks to be a three carat, princess cut diamond, surrounded by smaller diamonds in platinum gold. “The ring is beautiful… I pray I don’t lose it.” I laugh nervously.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I imagine he has insurance on it, so if you do somehow misplace it, he can get a new one.” We talk for a few more minutes as people walk over and congratulate us.
I feel like I’ve talked to more people in the last ten minutes than I have the entire night. I need to get away from these people and their prying questions. I excuse myself, feigning the need for the ladies’ room. I just start walking towards the bathroom when Brooklyn jumps in front of me and drags me inside.
“What the fuck just happened!?” Brooklyn spits out through clenched teeth, with a look of pure shock and rage pouring out of her eyes. “I cannot believe Logan pulled a stunt like this Savannah. I am telling you; this proposal is nothing but a big publicity stunt! Logan knows better than anyone that the perfect way to ask you to marry him would have been at the ocean, just you and him. Not. Like. This!” She quickly wraps me in her arms and whispers into my ear, “You don’t have to agree to this Savannah. I know you would never want to hurt his feelings, especially in front of all of these people.”
“I’m okay. Really, I’m fine. I admit it’s not my dream proposal, but he had his heart in the right place. He probably wanted to make this night special. It’s a really important night for him and his company. I don’t think he would ever use me to get more press time for this party. That’s ridiculous; he wouldn’t do that.” I feel like I am trying to convince myself as much as I am her.
When we walk out of the ladies’ room, Logan is waiting for me, my mother must have told him where I was. He links his fingers between mine and leads me over to the lobby. There’s press everywhere. “They want a statement on our engagement,” he grins, flashing his pearly white teeth at me.
“What about the announcement for the winner? Shouldn’t we be in there while they pick the winner?” I ask, mainly as an excuse to get away from the press; I could care less who wins.
“It’s fine. All the guys from my agency are in there, along with the guys from Sunset. I think they’ll survive without us.” He quickly turns back towards the paparazzi, and their probing questions.
They want to know if we’ve set a date, if this was a spur of the moment proposal, or if it was planned. Perhaps the most shocking question of all is whether I’m pregnant. Would I seriously be downing flutes of champagne all night if I was?
After what feels like an eternity, we’re finally finished with the firestorm of questions and head back inside to the party. It’s only around twelve thirty, but I imagine people will be partying until the early morning hours.
I find Brooklyn leaning against our table, talking with Reagan and Megan. They finally decided to rejoin the party after the drama of Logan’s proposal.
Logan’s phone is buzzing in his pocket, and I can tell he wants to answer it. “You can get that; I’m going to go show off my ring to Reagan and Megan. They haven’t had a chance to see it yet.” I kiss him quickly on the cheek and head over to them.
I glance back at Logan and see his face turn a deep red as a consequence of the text he’s reading; I hope it’s nothing serious. He’s having such an amazing time, and I don’t want anything to ruin his night.
“What the hell Savannah? I leave for what? An hour? To come back and find out you’re engaged?” Reagan grabs my hand. I glance at Megan, who looks in awe over at my giant rock.
“I’m sorry! You’re the one who ran off for hot elevator sex with Miss Megan over there.” I say, winking in her direction.
“That is a big ass diamond!” Megan squeaks, as she admires it up close. You are one lucky bitch. You know that, right? I swear, every woman around here wishes they were you right about now...The future Mrs. Logan Sanders.”
“Well, I am definitely not wishing that. I would rather walk across hot coals than marry him.” Brooklyn blurts out. All this champagne has gone straight to her head.
Megan and Brooklyn glance over my shoulder, both wearing puzzled expressions. I turn around to find we are being approached by one of the many women who have been staring me down all night. She stops a few feet away and extends her hand out to me. She’s holding a hotel key card.
“Logan is in room 267. He asked me to bring you this and to have you meet him there.” She says dryly, with a phony smile plastered across her face. I take the card from her well-manicured fingers, and as soon as I do, she spins on her heels and stomps away.
“Well that was odd,” Brooklyn says, watching the woman walk away, completely confused. “You better go see what lover boy wants; he probably booked a suite for you two tonight.”
“You have a ride home?” I ask Brooklyn. She came with Reagan, but it looks to me like he’ll be leaving with Megan. “If not, I’ll go up and talk to Logan, let him know you need a ride home and have his driver take you back to our place?”
“I’m fine. If Reagan can’t, I can always call a cab. I’m bored out of my mind anyways. I think I’m going to go to Vertigo and have a few drinks.”
I smile. “Okay, as long as you’re sure. I’ll see you in the morning; I guess.”
We all say our goodnights and I zigzag through the crowd of people that still fill the ballroom. When I finally make it to the lobby, I slip off my heels and carry them to the elevator. My head is spinning from all the champagne and I really don’t feel like spraining an ankle tonight. I walk past a couple getting hot and heavy against the wall by the elevators; they are so wrapped up in each other; they don’t even acknowledge me waiting there.
Finally, I hear the electronic tone, and as the doors slide open, I quickly step inside and push the button for floor twenty-six. On the way up, I lean against the wall of the elevator in an attempt to try and stop the small space from spinning. I know I’m going to wake up with the world’s worst hangover.
I glance down at my left hand and admire my engagement ring, watching it twinkle under the bright lights. I always imagined getting engaged to Logan, but never in a million years thought it would be this soon.
We’ve been together for four years, but he always said he didn’t want to settle down until after we were both stable in our careers. There’s no way of knowing if he wants a long engagement or wedding in the near future. I guess we have a lot to talk about, but not tonight; tonight we will celebrate.
The elevator comes to a stop, and the doors open up to a group of people dressed in nightclub attire, waiting to get in. I excuse myself, and squeeze past them, before heading down the hallway to Logan’s room.
My head is still foggy; I haven’t been this drunk since my days at UCLA and its making fumbling through my purse to retrieve the key card more difficult than usual. I find it and shakily slide it into see the light flick to green. At least I’m alert enough to get into the room, I laugh to myself.
I bet I’m a sight to see, walking around the Roosevelt hotel barefoot and stumbling around with my heels and clutch in my hands.
I enter the room and look around the suite. Logan isn’t in the living area, so he must be in the bedroom setting up our romantic night. I cannot wait to be with him…a week without sex is killing me.
Lately, my vibrator just isn’t cutting it.
I start towards the bedroom door when something catches my eye: a pair of women’s red high heels sitting by the couch and a lipstick marked glass of champagne. Panic instantly starts running through my veins, like ice sending chills all over my body. I am sobering up quickly, as my stomach starts to twist into knots.
I slowly tip toe over to the door of the bedroom and stop in front of the door. My hand hovering over the doorknob and all I can think is: this cannot be happening; someone must have slipped something into one of my drinks and I’m just hallucinating.
I can hear a woman giggling on the other side of the door. A million thoughts begin to flood my brain. Maybe Logan gave the room to one of his business partners to use, and I got here before he could let me know. There has to be a logical explanation. A man doesn’t pledge his love to a woman in front of thousands of people, and moments later cheat on her, does he?
That only happens in the soap operas Brooklyn watches. Not in my life.
I finally let out the air I’ve been holding in my lungs. I didn’t even realize I was holding it as I listened to the noises and voices on the other side of the door. I freeze when I recognize Logan’s voice, telling her to go deeper.
This is not happening. This is not happening! I just keep saying those words over and over in my head as tears begin to fill my eyes, feeling like acid on my skin.
Taking a few deep breaths, I finally regain my composure and turn the doorknob. I don’t think there is any way I can prepare myself for what I am about to see. I just need to open the door quickly and face what I am about to find on the other side of it; stalling will not ease the blow I am about to face.