Bad Enough for You (Currently Editing)

Sorry I Slept With Your Son Cupcakes

Hello, loves! Thank you soooooo much to everyone who's reading, voting, and commenting. It seriously means so much to me:) And to thank you for reading, there is a very attractive boy on the right hand side waiting for you...That would be Milo. Also, just on a side note: I reccomend every song that accompanies my chapters. Seriously. You should listen to them. 

3.] Sorry I Slepy With Your Son Cupcakes

While my father had made his claim to fame in the business world with his international chain of hotels and resorts, my mother had only recently returned to her job. In the nineties, she had worked in Hollywood, producing a television drama that lasted for five years. When the last season had ended, she turned to producing talk shows. It hadn’t been her favorite job until two years ago, she had been asked to take over the production of a talk show directed at teenagers was being moved from New York to California.

There were many perks on my part of being the producer’s daughter. At first, I was a little flabbergasted that my mother wanted me to show the hosts, Milo Dunkin and his new co-host, Cecilia Reynolds, around Jessamine, which was the location they had decided on for the show. It was a little intimidating being in the same room with Milo  for his looks were enough to make any girl’s knees turn to Jell-O. Not to mention, standing next to Cecilia made me feel like the wallpaper, for despite her shy personality her smile was what stole everyone’s attention.

In the past two years, we had become rather close. It was a little strange, though, when Cecilia and Milo had started dating only after a few months of producing together. It hadn’t added any type of strain on our relationship; it had just made it harder to go out in public with them for the paparazzi was constantly on their heels, awaiting the day that Milo and Cecilia would just break it off.

All I can say about that, though, is that they’re probably going to be waiting quite a long time.

For the first time since I had become friends with them, they weren’t the center of attention at a party. In fact, I hadn’t seen Milo or Cecilia in quite some time, which led me to believe that they were probably using the abandoned coat check room to their advantage. Instead, Georgia was in the spotlight, looking absolutely ravishing in her white lace dress. Her hair was falling in dark brown curls all around her face, which was glowing. No matter how beautiful my sister looked, it wasn’t necessarily her, but the ring on her finger that was attracting all of the attention.

The day that Georgia had given me that gift was the same day that Owen got down on one knee and made all of her fairytale dreams come true. I had been the first one she called when she was able to slip away to the bathroom after their romantic dinner on the terrace overlooking the San Francisco Bay. I had squealed with her, laughing the entire time as she related the events to me of how Owen had gone about it, making sure that it all came as the surprise of her life.

Admittedly, my heart had melted into a pile of goo. I had known all along about Owen’s plans of proposing, mostly because he had forced me to go shopping with him a month prior at Tiffany’s. I had to admit that Owen knew more about my sister’s taste than I did. While I had been thinking a single diamond, something simple yet elegant that would still sparkle whenever it caught the light, Owen had known all along what he wanted.

Now at their engagement party a week later, I watched as all of the women who approached my sister fawned over the ring. It was a band of flowers, each of them set with a pink diamond. I was even jealous of how elegant, yet extraordinary the ring really was. The best part was that you could just tell just how much Georgia truly loved Owen and just how well he actually knew her.

Leaving my sister and Owen to their mingling, I walked across the room, the clicking of my heels muffled by the classical music wafting around us. Passing a waiter, I snatched a flute of champagne, heading to the other side of the room where Milo and Cecilia had slipped in. Noting the slightly rumpled look to Milo’s hair, I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the two of them.