Savannah Series Boxed Set: Four Full Novels and One Novella

by Jamie, Danielle

  Brooklyn starts laughing so loudly in my ear that I have to pull the phone away before she blows my eardrum. “As usual, your boyfriend is a stuck up snob, even at the beach. Hopefully he gets annoyed sooner rather than later so you can get your butt home. Oh, and before I forget, Reagan texted me earlier wanting to know if you were still down for shopping. He wants to find new cufflinks to wear to the gala, and figured we could buy our dresses too.”

  “All right, I’ll ask Logan if I can take a rain check on our lunch date, and I’ll send a text to Reagan to see what time he wants to meet up. I’ll see you in a bit.” I hang up, and start getting my stuff together.

  I’m curling my toes that are buried in the warm sand when I notice Logan strutting out of the water, carrying his board under his arm. The beach bunnies have begun their prowl now, running their wandering hands up his arms as he walks along the beach. They’re so desperate; it comes with the territory when you’re dating one of the most well-known men in Hollywood.

  I smile to myself as I see them flashing their puppy dog eyes at Logan, and watch as he points over to me and smiles.

  “Sorry ladies, but Logan Sanders is all mine.” I say to myself, as he jogs in my direction.

  He greets me with a devilish smile, “Hey babe, you enjoying the view?”

  “Why, yes I am, and it’s a mighty good view at that,” I say playfully. “Reagan and Brooklyn want to go shopping this afternoon for the gala. Is it okay if we take a rain check on that lunch date?”

  He stands his board up beside him, “That’s fine, I have so much work to do as it is, it’s probably best I get home and tackle the stack I have on my desk.”

  I stretch up onto tiptoes and rest my hands on his warm, glistening stomach, landing a quick peck on his lips and savoring the salty water that lingers on my skin.

  “I’ll be sure to get something ravishing so you won’t be able to take your eyes off of me at the party, even with all those goddess-like models walking around.” I joke.

  “I can’t wait to see what you end up getting. Just, please, promise me you won’t get something that makes you too damn sexy; I don’t want to have to punch anyone out for trying to steal my girl,” he says, slapping me gently on my butt.

  “I promise,” I murmur, rolling my eyes to show him what I think of that. I pick up my purse and towel, and slide on my flip flops. When we get to Logan’s car, I set our beach bags and towels into the back of his Lexus SUV LX 570, while he attaches the surfboard back onto the roof racks. His sparkling, silver car is breathtaking. It’s filled with every gadget known to man and is so comfortable you never want to get out of it. I am in love.

  I’ve tried to get Logan to “break in” the backseat, but he said he prefers sexual acts in the bedroom, not in a car. He can be such a prude sometimes.

  Logan drops me off at my house about twenty minutes later, and Brooklyn is already waiting impatiently by the door. She looks flawless, donned in high rise cut off shorts, black tank and aviators, with an arm full of bangle bracelets. It’s depressing to know this is her version of “dressing down”.

  “Reagan sent me a text, saying he’ll meet up with us at Dee’s Café so we can grab a quick lunch, and I can finally get my coffee. After that, it’s time to shop until we drop,” she says, pulling her cell phone out of her purse. “I’ll send him a quick text letting him know the Queen has finally arrived, and we are on our way.” She says, as she grabs my arm and yanks me out the door. We’re at my car before I can protest.

  “Brooklyn, I just got back from the beach. I haven’t even showered yet, and you want to go NOW? Seriously?” She exasperates me sometimes.

  The world runs on ‘Brooklyn Time’, and she thinks I’m the queen? I shake my head and smile a little.

  “You look amazing, you have that sun kissed glow to you. You wear the beach well Savannah! Now, stop being a drama queen; get your little ass in the car and drive.”

  We pull up to Dee’s Café around one o’clock to see Reagan sitting at one of the outdoor tables. It’s a beautiful fall day in Los Angeles, so eating outside will be wonderful.

  Reagan is one of the most attractive men in Los Angeles, and he knows it. He is about six feet tall with a runner’s muscular body. He has dark brown hair that he wears short with a little faux hawk on top. This sits on top of a magnificent oval face with a sharp chin and nose. He has piercing blue eyes that look like they could cut through ice, probably the most striking I have ever seen. To top off his sexy look, he always has a day old beard making him scruffy, yet irresistible.

  Almost every woman who meets Reagan is instantly drawn to him, hell most men are drawn to him, too. I think Brooklyn, and I are the only two women on the entire planet who have been able to resist the “Reagan Charm”.

  Lunch goes by quickly as Reagan chats incessantly about all the shoots he has scheduled over the next few weeks for our upcoming Most Influential Men of 2012 issue. He says Eloise has been on a rampage, practically decapitating anyone who causes a bump in her schedule. She wants this issue to be perfect and wants nothing to affect our meeting the deadline.

  This issue is the most prestigious publication of the year. It goes to press in the middle of December, and the deadline for everything is right before Thanksgiving. So Eloise has everyone on red alert, trying to make sure we stay on schedule with no hiccups getting in the way.

  Only the ‘who’s who’ of Hollywood gets put in the magazine: top actors, singers, writers, philanthropists and billionaires. Anyone that America wants to read about is in this issue.

  One of the reasons I love working alongside Eloise is that she lets me sit in on a lot of meetings, interviews, and photo shoots; I get to see first-hand the nitty-gritty work she has to do for these articles. I mean, who wouldn’t love it? It’s not every day you get to sit a few feet away from America’s “Sexiest Men”.

  We first stop at Tiffany’s & Co. so Reagan can pick up some new cufflinks to wear to the gala. He’s taking Brooklyn as his date, and she is ecstatic that she gets to go.

  It was invite only; mainly models and actors represented by Logan’s agency and anyone who works with them, such as photographers, get invites. The dinner costs five thousand dollars a plate, with all the proceeds going to homeless shelters in the Los Angeles area.

  To spice things up and earn it the “Party of the Year” title, the event organizer put in place a masquerade ball theme. She thought it would be fun, seeing as everyone in Hollywood loves a bit of competition, to put on a contest where the person with the best costume will win courtside seats to a Los Angeles Lakers game.

  We find the perfect dress for Brooklyn and adorable matching stilettos at the third shop we visit. It’s hot pink, strapless cocktail dress with rose effect fabric along the top and a layered chiffon skirt. It stops mid-thigh and fits her figure perfectly.

  The heels are to die for, hot pink again, this time suede with ruffled chiffon across the strap. The whole outfit screams Brooklyn and I easily persuade her to buy it.

  Reagan met an amazing designer at fashion week last year who is going to make us bespoke masks to match our dresses.

  “Damn Brooklyn, you are going to have every guy at the gala salivating. I’ll be the envy of the party showing up with you on my arm,” Reagan gushes at her. I’m sure tossing compliments her way is tripling her ego.

  He has been trying for two years to get into Brooklyn’s panties, and she insists on keeping the relationship platonic. She’s worried that if they sleep together it would cause tension, and put a rift in my friendship with Reagan, which would tarnish our work relationship.

  “Well, when they say ‘dress to impress’, I take that very seriously,” she giggles, twirling so the dress swirls around her thighs.

  “Now, we need to find something just as mind blowing for Savannah,” Reagan said, grabbing my hand and leading me down Rodeo Drive.

  We visit five more boutiques before I finally spot the most gorgeous dress ever at Pomellato Boutique. It was
a peacock theme cocktail dress, with a similar shape to Brooklyn’s.

  “Oh. My. God! Look at that dress,” I squeal, as I run over to the display at the back of the store. It has feather like details covering the entire top of the dress, arching towards the left side and trailing down towards the skirt. The colors are breathtaking with layers of gold and teal chiffon; I didn’t think it was possible to love it any more than I already did, until I tried it on.

  Reagan and Brooklyn let out a loud, synchronized whistle, “Now that is a dress,” Brooklyn cries, as she circles around me, admiring all its magnificent detail.

  Reaching for my hands and twirling me around, Reagan gushes over me, “With your drop dead gorgeous body, and that dress, you are going to be causing cardiac arrests all over that ballroom. We better pray there is a doctor in the house next Saturday, because, girl let me tell you, we are going to need one! My heart is dancing in my chest just from looking at you in that dress,” He says, eying me up and down.

  The atmosphere in the room swiftly heats up, as everyone flashes me smoldering looks and raves over my dress. I start to feel a little uncomfortable, and Reagan chastises me as I blush red.

  “Okay Savannah, go get that dress off, we have to find you some shoes and accessories,” Brooklyn saves me, as she fingers the bracelets and necklaces hanging on the display case.

  We finally make it to the parking garage at seven thirty to retrieve Brooklyn’s Jeep. I am exhausted, and I suddenly don’t feel so guilty about skipping the gym the last two days. I’m guessing I’ve walked about ten miles and am thinking how ready I am to pour a very large glass of wine and soak in the tub. That sounds heavenly right about now.

  Chapter Three

  The week passes in a blur and I cannot believe today is Friday already, and tomorrow is the gala! Every day at work Eloise keeps us extremely busy planning phone, Skype, or face to face interviews with the men from our Most Influential issue.

  I sit in on all of them, witnessing first hand, Eloise’s poise and professionalism. She keeps perfectly composed while schmoozing with some of the most famous and not to mention, gorgeous, men in the world. This is a skill I have yet to acquire; turning into a clumsy, stuttering mess every time a young stud enters the room.

  Put me in a room full of country stars, I don’t even break a sweat. Put me in a room full of hot A-List movie stars, and I can barely form a sentence.

  This week Envy finally revealed their Top 100 list to the employees at the magazine, and today is the shoot with the #1 Influential Man: Kayden Knox. Eloise will be doing a face to face interview with him this afternoon.

  Reagan was beaming from ear to ear when he found out we would be doing a cover shoot instead of using a photo from a publicist like many others chose to do. Only a handful of the men who made the list came to L.A. for professional photo shoots.

  I sit at my desk and nervously pick at my lunch, worrying about my trying afternoon. Kayden Knox is a billionaire oil tycoon and business entrepreneur. He runs a chain of five star hotels owned by his father, and he has a successful chain of nightclubs in cities like Houston, L.A., Las Vegas, Miami and NYC.

  He’s even guest starred on hit TV shows, and I’ve even seen YouTube videos of Kayden singing. Not only is he completely gorgeous and filthy rich, but he can sing. I don’t think there is anything he can’t do.

  I had spent the morning on Google, attempting to learn everything there was to know about him before the interview. However, I didn’t get much done because I couldn’t tear myself away from admiring the gallery of photos, this man was beyond gorgeous.

  He has to be about six foot three and nothing but solid muscle; I swear one of his biceps has to be as big as my head. He has the most intense emerald green eyes I have ever seen, very strong jaw line, and narrow nose. There isn’t an inch on him that isn’t perfect; everything about Kayden Knox screams sex.

  I hear the click clack of stilettos on tile floor as Eloise approaches my desk. She is wearing solid black dress slacks, a bright red sleeveless button up blouse, and leopard print heels. She always looks like she just stepped off the runway when she was at work.

  I take a quick sip of my water to wash down my chicken salad, and greet her with a smile, “Good afternoon, Eloise.”

  “Good, you’re finished with your lunch. Kayden Knox’s plane landed earlier than expected, so he wants to move his interview up. I’ve already talked to Reagan, and he has all of his gear ready over at the location for the shoot. He said that once we’re finished, you should escort Kayden to Greystone Park and Mansion.” She declares, smiling back at me.

  “Okay. I’ll freshen up and meet you in your office.” I throw my salad in the trash can under my desk, grab my purse and head straight for the ladies room.

  I cannot meet Kayden Knox with salad breath.

  I walk to Eloise’s office and take a seat by the window, gazing down on a busy street below.

  My stomach is churning with a mixture of excitement and nerves, and I contemplate turning around and running.

  I give myself a good talking to; I know this is a great experience for when I’m editing my own magazine. A few moments later, Eloise returns to the office, sits at her desk and gets her laptop ready for the interview.

  “They should be here any moment; the front desk has called my cell to let me know they are in the lobby. Do you want to come over by my desk?” Eloise asks, motioning to a chair near her.

  “If you think I should, I don’t want to be in your way. I appreciate you letting me sit in on all of these interviews. It’s fascinating to watch the way you fire off the questions so matter-of-factly. I don’t know how you don’t get nervous.” Standing, I walk over to sit down next to her.

  “Oh, my dear, dear Savannah,” She says, shaking her head. “I get nervous…believe me, I do.” She laughs. “I just try to remember that this is a business, and I’m here to do the job; not ask for autographs and become doe-eyed as soon as an attractive gentleman walks into my office…No matter how rich and famous he may be.”

  “Well, you’re doing a fantastic job being professional; I’d never have known you were nervous in a million years.” I’m smoothing my skirt across my lap, praying I’ll keep my lunch down, when I look up and lock eyes with Kayden Knox.

  “Holy shit!” I mutter and slap my hand over my mouth.

  Oh, my God, did I just say that out loud?

  I quickly glance over at Eloise, and she doesn’t seem fazed. At least she didn’t hear my embarrassing slip of the tongue. I turn my head to look back at Kayden standing in the doorway. He smiles at me. Great, he heard me…of course. I quickly stand up beside Eloise as she extends her hand to Kayden. I hold my hands together in front of me and continue to smile goofily at him.

  “Nice to meet you Kayden,” she greets him cheerfully, “We are so appreciative you were able to clear your schedule to come and do this interview face to face.”

  Shaking her hand, he reveals a mega-watt smile. Wow, I could look at that all day!

  "It was no trouble at all. I am honored to be named The Most Influential Man of 2012, so flying into do a photo shoot and interview in person is the least I can do, Ms. Fisher."

  “Please, call me Eloise, Mrs. Fisher is my mother-in-law. This is my assistant editor, Savannah Livingston. I imagine you know her parents; I’ve heard you’re a huge fan.” Eloise says, as she rests her hand on my forearm.

  “Hi…” I manage to squeak out.

  This is going from bad to worse; I suck at this - suck very, very badly, and I’m regretting my decision not to observe the interview from a safe haven at the back of the room.

  I glance up at Kayden, and I do mean up. He seems even taller in person, and if possible he’s even more attractive than his photos.

  “Yes, I am a fan of Maverick and Paisley’s music. I had the honor of meeting them a few years ago at a charity event in Memphis. You’re very lucky to have such wonderful parents, Savannah.” He says, as he reaches out to shake my hand.


  The electricity that shoots through my hand and throughout my entire body is overwhelming; I’m convinced I’m going to pass out on the spot.

  I need to get a grip; this interview is crucial to the magazine’s issue. I cannot screw this up. I just need to remember this is a normal person and like Eloise said; we’re here to do a job. Who am I kidding? He isn’t just a normal person…he’s the sexiest man on the freakin’ planet, with enough money to buy the whole country if he wanted to.

  Thankfully, I don’t have to speak to him during the interview. I only have to observe…that’s it.

  “Thanks, my parents will be thrilled to learn you’re such a huge fan. They love your hotels. They stay at the one you have in Hawaii every time they vacation there.” I mentally congratulate myself on managing an entire sentence without embarrassing myself.

  “That’s great to hear, next time they’ll be staying, let me know, and I’ll make sure they receive complimentary spa passes.”

  He flashes me a quick smile again before sitting down in front of Eloise and me. She shoots off a list of questions, and he responds to each with short, predictable answers.

  If I didn’t know better, I would assume he anticipated each and every question and had an answer planned for each one. He’s probably been asked the same thing thousands of times before this.

  “You’ve appeared in numerous movies and television shows; do you plan on making a career out of acting?” Was her first question.

  He responds quickly, “No, I like my life the way it is now. I do some acting here and there, but it’s not something I wish to pursue professionally.”

  “You are known for your charity work, is there any one charity that’s extra special to you? If so, why?” She shoots her second question fast.

  “I think they’re all important in their own way, but if I had to choose one that’s special to me, it would be the Melody Knox Foundation. It’s the foundation I started in honor of my sister who passed away from leukemia at the young age of ten.” As he says this, I can’t help but notice the sadness in his eyes, though it disappears in seconds.