I had never paid much attention to celebrity gossip or what was going on in Hollywood because that was so far from the lifestyle I lived as a poor college student, working as a barista to save up for my own house after graduation. But then, without...
I woke up to the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore and the call of seagulls outside the patio door I had forgotten to close last night. I sat up and took a deep breath in, stretching my arms overhead with a groan.
Looking out from the bed, I could see the sparkling blue ocean stretching all the way along the full wall of floor to ceiling windows. I couldn't believe there were people who actually got to live like this. Dylan was so lucky to get to wake up to this view every single day. I couldn't even imagine.
I reluctantly climbed out of the soft, comfortable bed that felt like being swallowed up in a cloud and took a long, hot shower in Dylan's guest house bathroom that had a huge marble shower enclosed in two-way glass. You could see out, but people couldn't see in. At least I really hoped they couldn't.
After getting out, I dried off and got dressed, putting on one of the dresses I had borrowed from Ellie for the trip. Her Dad's a wealthy doctor and her Mom is into fashion, so she has always had cuter clothes than me and luckily she loves to share. She insisted that I take a bunch of her clothes with me this week and she even helped me put together the outfits and accessories to go with them.
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After getting dressed, I curled my long blonde hair into smooth tendrils, making sure I stashed a hair tie in my bag in case the California humidity made the frizz come roaring back. Since I looked like such a wreck yesterday, I wanted to look nice today because I wasn't sure if the film crew was going to be following us around again. I figured it was a good idea to prepare as though they were, just in case. After I finished getting ready, I looked in the mirror and was satisfied.
I walked out of the guest house, pulling my phone and the concierge's business card out of my purse. I dialed her number and she answered on the first ring.
"This is Rita," she said in a cheery sing-song voice. She had obviously already had her coffee this morning and I was jealous.
"Hi Rita. This is Brenley, the person staying in the guest house this week. I'm awake and dressed. I'm not really sure what I should do now, and I was wondering if you know? Dylan told me to call you if I had any questions."
"Of course! Go ahead and come into the main house through the back door. I just finished whipping up some homemade waffles for breakfast. You like waffles don't you?"
"I LOVE waffles," I said with a smile.
"Perfect! I'll see you in a few then."
I walked around the pool and through the back door of the main house, smelling the aroma of waffles and syrup as soon as I came inside. I followed the smell down a hallway that led to a huge, ultra-modern kitchen that looked like it had to have cost a million bucks. There was an enormous island in the center with a black marble counter top that Rita was using to put the waffle maker on. Behind her were kitchen cabinets that had see through glass doors with all white matching dishes inside them, and all the appliances and cabinet knobs were chrome and the flooring and backsplash were white subway tile.
