o l i v i a
The bright morning sun warms my face causing my eyes to flutter open. Basking in the comfort of the sheets, I turn my head to the right and rest my cheek on the fluffy pillow. The masculine scent of sandalwood fills my nose, and that's when I become aware of the weight on my stomach. Confused, I look down and see a muscular arm resting on my naked body. I abruptly sit up, and my head to throbs. At my sudden movement, beautiful blue eyes that belong to the figure beside me blink open.
The events of last night rush through my mind: Parker inviting me to his place, me saying goodbye to Annalise and Hayden, me sending a quick text to Harrison that I wouldn't need a ride home, Parker caressing my thigh in the car, us stumbling into his condo and ripping each other's clothes off... and his skills in bed. Let's just say that memory will be on repeat in my brain.
"Morning," his voice raspy from sleep.
I bite my lip resisting the urge to go for round two... or was it round six? "Good morning," I say groggily.
He props himself up on his elbows and looks over at the clock on the nightstand. "Wow, it's only 7:30."
7:30! "Uh oh! I'm going to be late to my shoot!" I curse myself.
Hurriedly, I jump out of bed and search for my clothes that are scattered across the room. As I run into the living room to look for my dress, I realize there are floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. Wow, imagine waking up to this, I admire the view. The shoot, Olivia! I shake my head and continue searching for my clothes.
I hop back into my dress and grab my purse lying on the couch. When I take out my phone, I see eight missed calls from Annalise asking where I am. We both were invited to a shoot with Louis Vuitton. "Shit, shit, shit!" I mutter under my breath.
I'm about to phone Harrison when I see Parker enter the living room. He leans the side of his body on the kitchen island and crosses his arms over his shirtless chest. It takes every cell in my body to refrain from gawking at him. Thank God he put some joggers on!
"Leaving so soon?" He quirks an eyebrow.
"Yeah, sorry. I'm late to a shoot. I'm calling my driver," I tell him.
Without responding, he goes back into his room and comes out seconds later with a fresh white shirt on. Mmm. "I'll just take you there." He swipes his keys off the kitchen island.
"Oh no, it's fine. I don't want to bother you," I shrug my arms into my coat.
Parker walks toward me and my breath quickens. His blue eyes stare into my soul. His face comes closer to mine, our lips almost touching. He teases me with a smile and reaches for the door handle. "I'm not taking no for an answer," he says. Assertive, I like it.
When we get into his car, I plug in the location of the photoshoot onto the GPS. I try my best to fix my appearance and make myself look more decent with the mirror on the sun visor. I run my fingers through my tangled hair and grab makeup wipes from my purse to remove the remnants of mascara and eyeshadow from last night.
"You look beautiful, by the way," Parker steals a quick glance at me. Like a lovesick teenager, my heart flutters and my cheeks flame.
He parks on the curb in front of the building, and before I can open my door, Parker gets out and jogs over to my side. Such a gentleman! I get a warm, tingly feeling in my stomach as I look into his eyes.
"Thanks for the ride," I say.
"Thank you for the ride, last night," his voice a little deeper. This man! "When can I see you again?"
I chew on my bottom lip. "My schedule is kind of hectic right now," I admit.
Hiding his disappointment, he nods. "Bye, Golden Babe." He pecks me on the lips.
Before my face turns into a tomato, I say a quick goodbye and rush into the building. Last night was one of the best nights of my life, but I can't afford to get tied into a media frenzy with an NHLer. Especially not when I am at the peak of my career.
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Cameras flashing. Girls changing. Hairspray fumes drifting through the air. Ahh, Saturday mornings. I walk into the dressing room and finger through the racks of garment bags for the one with my name on it. "Ollie!" I hear Anna call. I turn my head to the makeup station and see her wave me over.
"Olivia Monroe Windsor! Spill," she demands.
I grab the robe they had set aside for me and go behind the changing partition next to the vanities. "I don't kiss and tell," I tease.
She laughs humorlessly. "Oh, I know you did a lot more than just kiss."
When I don't respond she says, "At least tell me if he's good in bed!"
"Anna!" I scold her for saying that in front of the makeup artist. I tie the black, silk robe and step out from the divider. "If you must know, yes, he was good. Very good," I emphasize.
My friend sighs, "I am so jealous of you."
I sit in the chair beside her and another makeup artist comes over to begin the glam process. "What'd you and Hayden do after I left?" I look at her through the mirrors.
"Nothing much. Another hockey player came to our table, but I wasn't really feeling it."
"Still hung up on Jake?" I ask her. She gives me a sad nod.
Jake is a male model that Anna dated last year. Their relationship was casual but steady for six months. That is, until Anna caught him cheating with another model. She was devastated. One thing you should know about my best friend is that she wears her heart on her sleeve.
"At least one of us is getting some," Annalise jokes.
I roll my eyes. "Got some. Past tense."
Anna chuckles. "Whatever you say, Olivia."
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"Java for lunch?" Annalise asks as we head out of the building.
"Yup, I am starving!" I reply. My stomach was growling the entire shoot.
The little restaurant is a few blocks from our current location, so we decide to walk. I have to admit, my body is a bit sore from last night, but the pain brings a smile onto my face because it reminds me of Parker kissing my—
"Did you hear the designer bashing Carly because the dress didn't fit properly?" Annalise interrupts my day dream.
"Poor girl," I shake my head. The irony of the situation is that Carly literally has no meat on her skin. It goes to show that the model is always to blame for a piece not fitting to the designer's liking.
"Miss Windsor, Miss Coleman!" A group of paparazzi block the entrance to Java. They shove their cameras into our faces and berate us with a million questions.
"Anna, are you still booking up with Jake?"
"How was your trip to Paris last month?"
"Can you tell us anything about Fashion Week?"
"Olivia, you were recently photographed with Lennon Nilsson. Are you guys dating?"
The last question makes my blood boil. Lennon is a friend of mine and a fellow model. We had a shoot for Gucci and were photographed together exiting the building. I swear, the media believes any two people standing next to each other are a couple.
"Please, excuse us," I say. I grab Anna's hand and weave my way through the crowd.
Once we're safely inside, I squeeze her hand. "You okay?"
She nods. "I don't why people are so fascinated with my sex life," we both chuckle.
The waitress leads us outside to a table with a cute umbrella over top.
Perusing the menu, my mouth waters when I see all of the delicious foods listed that I can't indulge in. Growing up my eating habits weren't terrible, but they definitely wouldn't pass model standards.
"What are you ladies having today?" The waitress gets her small note pad and pen out from her apron.
"I'll have the tossed salad. Could you replace the ranch dressing with balsamic vinaigrette?" I ask.
"Sure can. What about you, Miss?" She turns to Annalise.
"I'll have the same."
Once the waitress leaves, Anna's lips droop down. "I really wanted the chicken pesto panini," she says.
"Same," I reply glumly. As little as the matter seems, models sacrifice their pleasure for their job. Well, most times, I think of last night with Parker.
After lunch, Anna and I part ways. Harrison picks me up and drops me back off at my apartment. I am so relieved to finally take my heels off of my aching feet. When I remove my coat, a small piece of paper falls out of the pocket. My eyes widen with surprise when I unfold it.
Parker's phone number is scrawled across it, accompanied by a short note reading Till we meet again, Golden Babe. I can't help the giddiness that I feel. I adore his persistence and sweetness.
Even though I turned him down this morning, I can't stop thinking about him—his blue eyes, his dimples, his boyish smile. Maybe our paths will cross again.