Savannah Series Boxed Set: Four Full Novels and One Novella

by Jamie, Danielle

  “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.

  Chapter Five

  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 fathe
r 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.