It is five o’clock by the time I park my car outside my parents’ house. I head up the driveway, and Frederick opens the door before I can even knock. I don’t know how he does that. He must sit by the door watching the driveway; I swear.

He greets me with a smile, “Good evening, Miss Savannah, we were not expecting you tonight.”

“I know. I was in the area, working, and decided to stop by and see Mom and Dad. Are they here?” I hope they are, because I’m starving.

“Your father is out, but your mother is in her office on the phone with her tour manager, I believe.”

“Thank you Frederick, I’ll head up and see if she’s up for some dinner with her favorite daughter.” I head down the hallway toward my mother’s office.

Their house is huge; I could easily get lost. It was always fun playing ‘hide and seek’ with my friends here because I knew all the best hiding spots, and no one was ever able to find me.

“Hey, Mom, You busy?” I ask, leaning in the doorway of her office.

She holds up her hand, gesturing for me to hold on a moment. She is talking to her tour manager about their upcoming U.S. tour, which kicks off next week and runs until the end of July. I quickly sit down on the sofa and flick through a Rolling Stone magazine she has sitting on the coffee table.

After five minutes, she sits her cell phone down on the desk. “I’m surprised to see you tonight; I thought you and Logan weren’t coming because of the Gala tomorrow night?” she asks, looking a little puzzled.

“That was the plan, but we had a photo shoot in the area for the magazine, so I decided to stop by and see if you wanted company for dinner. Logan will be gone all night working on last minute details for tomorrow’s party, and Brooklyn has plans tonight with that Trey guy she met last Friday.”

“I believe Mrs. Trinton made lasagna tonight. I would love for you to join me, sweetie. Your father left to pick up our outfits for the party tomorrow. He said he’s just going to warm up a plate when he gets back.”

I follow her back down the hallway to the kitchen, and can smell the lasagna before I even reach the door. My stomach is rumbling continuously, begging to be fed.  My mother takes two plates out of the cupboard, dishes up the lasagna, and joins me at the marble island.

“You excited about the gala tomorrow?” she asks, as she sets my plate and fork down in front of me.

“Yes, but nervous though. I hate going to events where I don’t really know anyone. It’s pretty much Logan’s co-workers and business associates, and then of course all of the models and actresses that are with the agency. The only one I know is Megan Nelson; the one that was just in that romantic comedy, ‘How You Love Me’…”

Sitting next to me, she takes a bite of her lasagna and smiles, “You’ll have a blast; I know it. You’ll have Brooklyn and Reagan there and you three can dance the night away.”

It was nice visiting with my mother and it being just the two of us. I prefer having small lunch or dinner dates with either parent alone. I always get really stressed out when we have a fancy sit down dinner with Logan over. I feel like they’re always watching us; voicing their opinions so loudly, not with their mouths, but with their eyes.

My father believes Logan should have proposed by now; we’ve been dating for four years, and he thinks that’s long enough to figure out if you will or will not spend the rest of your life with someone.

My mother just hates the idea of my having premarital sex, even though it’s 2012, and I know maybe a handful of people who actually waited until marriage.

We talk about her upcoming tour for about an hour, and I tell her all about the interview and the photo shoot. She’s so proud of how well I am doing with my new job; I can see it in her face when she smiles at me.

After I help her clean up the kitchen, I decide to head home. I want to get my things ready for the gala. I wouldn’t have much time to do it tomorrow because Brooklyn and I are having a salon and spa day.

As I get into my car, I pull my iPhone from my purse and notice I have ten messages: eight from Brooklyn, and two from Eloise.

Brooklyn’s are all asking about Kayden and the photo shoot, and Eloise has left me both a voice mail and text raving about how thrilled she was with today’s results.

I put my cell back in my purse and start the car. Cranking up the stereo, I try to drown out all of the thoughts floating around in my head.

I finally pull into my drive at six thirty; Brooklyn has already left, so I decide to take a bath and get my dress, mask, and accessories ready for tomorrow. Today has been a long stressful day, but thankfully I survived, with a very happy boss. I decide I should probably reply to Eloise, and do so as I run my bath.

“Hello Savannah, about time you called me back,” she teases. “You were amazing today! Kayden called my office as soon as he left the shoot. He said you and Reagan were wonderful, and he truly enjoyed the whole experience.”

“That’s wonderful, Eloise. I think Reagan got some really great shots today. Women all over the world are going to be dying to get their hands on the magazine when they see those photos.”

“Oh, I know! Reagan was editing some tonight, and he sent a few to me. That man is fine!” she said. “He’s invited me, Reagan, you, and everyone else working on the issue to stay at his hotel the weekend after Thanksgiving. He’s throwing a party to celebrate being on the cover of Envy. It is going to be so much fun!”

“Wow,” I breathe. “I heard him mention something about it when he was getting ready to leave today. He said he hoped to see me at the party he was throwing in Houston. It sounds like it will be a lot of fun; great publicity for the magazine too.”

“Yes, it will be. Exciting, eh? Well I’ll let you go my dear; I know you have a big day tomorrow. Goodnight.”

I toss my phone onto my bed, and head to the bathroom with my iPod. My muscles instantly relax in the warm water, and I lie back with my headphones in, trying not to think about tomorrow. I know how much Logan has riding on this new deal with Sunset Modeling, so hopefully everyone has a fantastic time, and all goes smoothly.

After my bath, I climb into bed and flick through my phone. I assumed I’d have heard from Logan today, but there’s been no news. I’m a little upset that he couldn’t even be bothered to send me a quick text seeing as he knew what a big day I had today. This was the thing with him; I was always supporting his career and he just couldn’t seem to return the favor.

He was busy though, so I guess it was understandable. I decide to send him a quick message and head to bed. Brooklyn and I have a massage and facial appointments tomorrow morning before heading to Quinn’s hair salon in the afternoon and I needed the sleep.

Me:

Just getting ready to go to sleep, wanted to say goodnight and let you know today went fantastically. Hope your day went well. See you tomorrow xoxo

I set my phone on my night stand, and try to sleep. Logan never replied.

I wake to the sun beaming through my window, filling the entire room with rays of sunlight. Brooklyn is still sleeping, so I decided, like the best friend that I am, to run to Starbucks and grab us both iced coffees. By the time I return, she is just staggering out of her bedroom.

I sit at the barstool, smiling at her, “Good morning, Sunshine. Are you in need of a caffeine fix?”

“Yes, oh, my God, yes! You’re amazing Savannah. I feel like something crawled into my head and kicked the crap out of my skull. I need to remember NOT to drink so many tequila shots. I don’t know how I’ll survive this party tonight with the hangover I have.” she says dryly, taking the coffee out of my hand.

“Well, you’re lucky you have a best friend who loves you so much. Take some aspirin, because there is NO WAY you’re getting out of going to this party tonight. I need you and Reagan there to keep me from losing my mind. You know how much I hate these stuffy events.”

“Well, I suppose after some pain killers and a deep tissue massage, I should feel well enough to attend.”

I’m already dressed in cutoff jeans, flip-flops and pink spaghetti strap top, my hair tossed up in a messy bun from my coffee run. Brooklyn throws on a sundress and heels, and we were off to the spa.

We had the complete spa package: wax, facial, pedicures, manicures and massages. We were getting pampered to the max. Brooklyn looked like she was in heaven; it was definitely helping her forget about the hangover.

The spa was amazing. When we finished, we headed over to the salon to let Quinn and one of his stylists make us look flawless. His salon is right on Hollywood Blvd. and he styles hair for tons of celebrities. He’s actually becoming really successful; just last year he won a few awards, and launched his own brand of products.

We don’t even get a foot inside the door, before Quinn is walking over to us, giving hugs and air kisses. “As I live and breathe, I have missed you girls! Come, sit, we are going to work our magic on you. Every camera is going to be on you two tonight. We are going to make you hotter than you already are, if it’s possible.” He winks at us as he steps up to his salon chair.

“Oh stop, I bet you say that to all the girls.” Brooklyn giggles. She loves attention, and when she gets it she bathes in it.

“I’m thinking up do for Brooklyn, high bun with curls popping out all over. For Savannah, we have to show off that goddess like hair of yours. Leave it all down, but we will do a French braid from each side by your temples and have them come together in the back with curls everywhere!” he says, leaning against his chair and tapping his right cheek thoughtfully.

When we’re finished, I have to agree that his ideas were perfect. “Oh my, I love it Quinn. You were so right; it looks amazing!” I say, admiring myself in the mirror.

“I love what you have done with mine Fiona; it looks hot, sexy and sophisticated, just like me.” Brooklyn plays with the ringlets around her face.

“You look smoking hot Savannah. Every guy at that party tonight is gonna wish they were Logan.”

“Whatever you say,” I laugh. “You look freaking stunning, Brooklyn. Poor Reagan, he’s going to have every guy there trying to steal his date.”

We pay Quinn, and head home to get ready; not believing it was already five o clock. I’ll be way too nervous to eat anything at the party, so we order Chinese takeout. I know I’ll regret it later though; the girls Logan manages are beautiful, and I know I’ll feel like a fat, ugly duckling in the middle of them.

“Hot damn! You look amazing, Savannah!” Brooklyn says, eyeing me up and down. I put on black glitter heels, gold bangles with peacock feather detailing, turquoise feather earrings and turquoise glitter eye shadow.

“Thanks, love, you’re looking mighty fine yourself. That dress is gorgeous; I’m so happy you got it. Girl, it shows off those assets of yours well.” I say, raising my eyebrows at her.

“You’re awful,” she laughs. Our compliments are cut short by the sound of the doorbell, and we run to answer it, finding Reagan on the step with a bouquet of flowers. He’s so sweet. Brooklyn doesn’t go for sweet, one of the many reasons she will not date him. She loves boys who are trouble with a capital T.

“For you, Miss Brooklyn Bennett.” Reagan says dramatically, handing her the bouquet of bright pink roses to match her dress. His smile is reaching both ears, and the sun is sparkling across his pearly whites. He is too handsome for his own good, and he knows it.

Following Brooklyn into the kitchen, Reagan plops down on a bar stool and watches her put the flowers into water, when the doorbell rings again. I hurry to answer it as I know it has to be Logan; he said he would pick me up, and we could walk the red carpet together.

Swinging the front door open, I bounced into Logan’s arms. I’d missed him so much. Only seeing each other a few times a week to go out to dinner isn’t sufficient enough for me. I needed to see him every day, and spend every night together. Everything’s better when I’m with Logan.

“Whoa, I’m happy to see you too,” he says, hugging me back. “You look absolutely divine tonight Savannah, that color is breathtaking on you.” He kisses me passionately, before walking into the house.

“Hey now, don’t mess up my makeup.” I tease.

“So, you ready for your big night?” Reagan asks Logan

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. The party planner went above and beyond what we expected; you won’t even recognize the ballroom at the Roosevelt. It’s like you’re walking into another world. There’s going to be tons of press there, which is great publicity for the agency.” Logan replies.

When we arrive at the Roosevelt, it’s completely chaotic. There are photographers crammed in on both sides of the entrance barricades. I slide my mask on, as does Logan, and step out of the limo into a lighting storm of camera flashes.

We pose for a few photos and give the press a few statements; I’m taken aback when Logan tells them that one day soon he hopes to have me as his bride. This goes against everything we’ve discussed about establishing our careers first.

When we enter the ballroom, we are all speechless. The Roosevelt ballroom has been completely transformed with white and black fabric draped across the ceiling. Tables covered with monochrome table cloths and decorated with breathtaking floral arrangements of black and white lilies, surrounded by the occasional burst of color from a deep red rose.

With a quick peck on my cheek, Logan leaves me with Brooklyn and Reagan to rub shoulders with all of his business associates.

“I need a drink.” I state to Brooklyn, and drag her over to get glasses of champagne. Three glasses later, I was finally feeling my anxiety fade away. Brooklyn pulls me out onto the dance floor, helping me relax more, and Reagan joins us soon after. Before I know it, I’m laughing and having a wonderful time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice my parents walk in, virtually oblivious to being surrounded by cameras.

“My parents are here, I’m going to go over and say hello,” I whisper into Brooklyn’s ear.

Brooklyn is slow dancing with Reagan, “Okay, you want me to go with you?” she asks.

“No, stay with Reagan, I’ll be right back.” When I approach them, my parents are talking with a few of Logan’s models and actresses.

These women look like Greek goddesses. All the models are five feet ten or taller and almost all of them look like they should eat a burger before they completely vanish. I love being slim, but there’s a difference between being slim and fit and being just so thin that you look like skin on bones.

“Hey Mom, Dad. So what do you think? Logan’s party planner did a fabulous job; this place looks magnificent.”

“That it does,” my mother replies. “It literally took my breath away when we walked in.” 

“Logan’s party seems to be a success; the paparazzi are lining the street trying to get shots of anyone who arrives. I imagine we will be seeing all of this on the gossip blogs tonight.” Dad exclaims, as he walks over and hugs me. “By the way Savannah, you look wonderful tonight; I imagine you took Logan’s breath away.”

“Thank you Dad.” I say, my cheeks flushing about ten shades of red.

I talk with my parents for just a few more minutes before I decide to go find Logan. I’ve hardly seen him for more than a few minutes at a time tonight because he has so many guests to see.