I instantly regret turning my laptop on. As soon as my internet opened up I see the news headlines are filled with “Breaking News” announcing my engagement to Logan Sanders. Pictures from last night are plastered all over the internet, with me looking so shocked, excited, and in love.
When I log into my Facebook, my notifications are flooded with wall posts of congratulations. The whole situation just went from bad to worse, as I realize I’ll have to make a statement to the press about the engagement being called off.
Nothing in my life can ever just be private!
I slam my laptop closed and begin repeatedly punching my pillow. Shoving my face into it, I scream until my lungs ache.
“Screw you, Logan Sanders! All your stupid sluts, too.” I scream into the pillow, banging my fist repeatedly onto my mattress and trying my best to let out my frustrations without alerting Brooklyn, who’s only a few feet away. “I hate you! I fucking hate you for doing this to me!”
I continue to scream for a good five minutes, until my throat’s hoarse. I feel a small amount of relief wash over my body from releasing the pent up frustrations, even if it wasn’t actually at Logan to whom every word was intended.
I spend the rest of the afternoon sitting outside on our patio, drinking an entire bottle of wine. It’s almost seven by the time Brooklyn comes strolling out, finding me drowning my sorrows. I’m just finishing my last glass of wine and feel thoroughly trashed, even more so than I did last night on six glasses of champagne.
“Brooklyn…I am sooo happy you are finally up; now I don’t have to drink alone.” I slur at her, as I lay sprawled out on the outdoor lounge.
“What the hell happened to you? Did aliens come down and invade your brain, Savannah? You look utterly fucked-up right now,” Brooklyn blurts out, as she runs over to where I’m sitting plopping down at the foot of the lounge. “Why are you downing an entire bottle of wine? You never drink this much…EVER.” I see panic consuming her eyes as she stares into mine.
“Well if you insist on knowing, I got engaged to Los Angeles' biggest man whore last night,” I wave my wine glass around in front of me, dramatically pointing towards the Los Angeles skyline that’s twinkling in the night sky in front of us. “My romantic night turned out to be…well, not so romantic…I guess you could say.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Savannah? What happened last night? What do you mean you’re now engaged to the Los Angeles’ biggest man whore? You have my head spinning; I need answers...now! No riddles Savannah; just spit it out already. You’re seriously scaring me!”
She runs her fingers through her hair, and looks like she’s about to pounce on me if I don’t tell her what’s going on as soon as possible.
I pull myself up on the lounge and fold my legs behind me. Running my finger around the brim of my wine glass, I tell Brooklyn everything.
It actually feels exhilarating to get everything out there in the open for her to hear. Having all this pain from last night bottled up inside was tearing me apart.
No amount of wine could numb the pain I was going through. The man I had loved and planned on spending the rest of my life with betrayed me, ripped my heart out of my chest, and stomped on it repeatedly.
When everything is hanging in the air and Brooklyn has processed what happened, she just sits there in a daze in front of me. She closes her eyes and drops her chin to her chest. It’s rising and falling quickly, and I know she’s trying to keep herself calm, to be strong for me.
I’m blessed to have her as my friend; I don’t even want to know what life would be like without her in it. It’s hard enough losing Logan, but I think losing her would be unbearable. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she looks up at me with the most terrifying look I’ve ever seen on her face.
“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch. He thinks he can sleep with any little tramp that will spread her legs, while he’s professing his love to you? What the fuck is wrong with him? Proposing to you last night in a room full of women he has had sex with, while he was with you? He is screwed up; he literally has to have mental issues! I’m going to go to his suite, chop his dick off and force feed it to him.”
“Brooklyn, I appreciate your wanting to seek revenge on Logan for this, but it is not worth our time or energy. I would love nothing more than to castrate him…believe me, I would. But it won’t help the pain go away. I want to forget he ever existed. It’s so hard because everything I do, everything I hear and see reminds me of him.”
I can feel tears trickling down my face, one after another, and part of me can’t believe I have any tears left in me to cry.
Brooklyn reaches across the lounge, wraps me in her arms, pets my hair and cries into my neck. We sit there for almost half an hour, just holding each other and crying. I’m grateful to her for being here for me, listening to me vent, and letting me get everything out of my system.
We talk the rest of the night while curled up on the couch and watching reality TV on-demand; it’s exactly what I needed.
We discuss what I’m going to do about the press and telling my parents. I’m terrified to tell my mom and dad, especially my dad. He’ll most definitely go all ‘southern’ on Logan’s ass, driving to his suite and shoving a twelve gauge shotgun in his face, and threatening to blow his head off his shoulders for breaking his little girl’s heart. The idea makes me smile; it’s the first time I’ve smiled since yesterday evening.
Brooklyn suggests I tell my parents and have their PR team handle the press. Then, I can just write a small statement saying the engagement has been called off, and it’s a personal matter; which I do not wish to discuss. Giving the press any other information would just lead to them hunting down Logan and his models, meaning I would have to deal with seeing my personal life plastered all over gossip magazines for the world to see.
~~~
Logan tries to contact me every day for the entire week, trying to get me to agree to see him. He wouldn’t take a hint; he even came to our house and pounded at our door, begging for me to let him in and give him a chance to explain.
Brooklyn took much joy in threatening to have his ass arrested for harassment if he tried to come here again. She is my rock right now; the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.
I stay off my laptop because I can’t bear to read all the congratulatory emails I’ve been receiving from everyone. They were just another painful reminder of Logan’s betrayal.
I call my parents on Tuesday following a voice mail from my mother that threatened to come to my house if I didn’t call her back. I guess Logan has shown up at theirs earlier today, pleading with my mother to talk some sense into me and let him try to fix things.
I know for a fact he wouldn’t have told her the whole truth. If my mother knew for a second that he’d cheated on me, especially moments after proposing, he wouldn’t be breathing right now, let alone convincing her to call me on his behalf.
I tell her everything he has done. Well, everything I gathered from what that Cara girl said in the hotel room and from what I had witnessed Saturday night. I tell her about the phone calls, text messages and emails from him and how I had deleted them all without reading. I was finished with him, and there was nothing he could say or do to change my mind.
He made his bed, and he can damn well lay in it and suffer for all I cared. I have no sympathy for him and the heartache he brought upon himself. She sat on the other end of the phone, not saying a word. She was speechless; something I had never before witnessed.
I repeatedly yell into the phone for her to say something, and she finally does, “I’m so sorry. So, so sorry, Savannah. I would have never pushed for you two to be together had I known he was like this. He always seemed like a responsible, respectful, intelligent young man.” She sobs.
I hate that she was hurt; Logan didn’t realize that he was not only hurting me but everyone around us.
“Mom, please don’t cry.” I beg her. It’s tearing me up i
nside hearing her cry for me. I sit on my bed and trace the zebra stripes on my comforter with my finger tip, trying something…anything to keep me from falling apart again. The last thing I want to do is shed more tears over him. I’m all cried out, and my eyes feel like they need to be iced because they ache so much.
“I’m sorry honey, the last thing I want to do is upset you. Your father is pulling in from the meeting with our tour manager. We leave Thursday for NYC to kick off the new tour. Oh no, that’s in two days. I hate to leave you while you’re tryin’ to deal with all of this.”
She continues to sob into the phone, and I can hear her trying to calm her breathing to a regular rate. Tears begin to run down my cheeks. Don’t cry…don’t cry, I plead over and over in my head as I squeeze my eyes shut. I mimic my mom’s deep breathing pattern, trying to calm myself down too.
“I have to go. Are ya gonna be okay Savannah? I’ll talk to your father for you, so you don’t have to rehash this all over again. I’ll call Juliette in the mornin’ and have her prepare a statement to release to the press for you. I love you honey; if you need anything’ just call me.”
I can hear my father talking in the background, and asking her why she was so upset. I quickly say goodbye and get off the phone. I’m grateful she would handle telling my father; I just want to forget this ever happened. Explaining to people just reopens wounds I’m trying so hard to heal.
I take Monday and Tuesday off work, having explained everything to Eloise on Monday morning. She told me to take all the time I needed. Everything she needed me to work on she emailed to me. It was nice having the distraction to help keep my mind off Logan.
Chapter Seven
My first, post break up day, back at work, went smoothly; although, I felt like I was just running through the motions on autopilot.
I worked with Eloise on The Most Influential Man of 2012 issue. We had to organize photos, get the interviews edited and write them up the way she wanted.
We were so busy that I didn’t realize when it was time to head home. We had gotten a good chunk of the issue completed today, ahead of schedule, which made Eloise very pleased.
When I get home in the evening, there’s a bouquet of flowers sitting on the marble counter-top in the kitchen. It’s an exquisite posy of bright tulips, sunflowers, daisies, roses, and hot pink lilies. They remind me of springtime. I know they can’t be from Logan, as Brooklyn would have tossed them in the trash before I got a chance to see.
I’ve been receiving flowers from friends, family, co-workers; basically anyone my parents know or have known. Each bouquet comes with a similar note, expressing their deepest apologies for my break-up with Logan. I have a magnificent display throughout my house; it looks more like a florist shop than a home.
I finger the card; twirling it between my fingers as I walk outside, and dip my feet into the warm water of our pool.
It’s finally a warm, sunny day in Los Angeles, following days of rain. It felt like the universe had been crying right along with me. I slide the card out of the tiny envelope and am shocked when I read who sent it. The card reads:
To Savannah,
I hope these flowers can bring a smile back to your angelic face. He is a fool to let you get away. My deepest condolences to you during this difficult time. - Kayden Knox
“Holy shit.” I mutter to myself, as I stare down at the note. Kayden Knox sent me flowers and his condolences? I’ve only met the man once; I can’t fathom the idea that he actually cares about what I am going through right now. I guess compassion is another reason he won that number one spot.
I pace alongside the pool and stare at the Hollywood sign in the distance, contemplating what to do. What would be the polite thing to do? Call and thank him? Email a quick thank you? I don’t have his contact info on hand…I could call Eloise and ask for it.
I decide to go inside; I grab my laptop and head to the living room. Plopping myself down on the sofa, I pull up my Twitter and search Kayden’s account. I’m not allowed to message him as we don’t follow each other, so I decide to chance it and send a thank you tweet.
If he sees it…he sees it, and if not, I’ll ask Eloise for his email tomorrow and thank him then.
I type quickly, @Kayden_Knox I received the flowers you sent; they’re beautiful. I just wanted to send you a quick thank you.
Hopefully my, oh, so original twitter alias, @SavannahLivingston, will make it clear who’s sent the tweet.
I scroll through his Twitter images and tweets wondering how many girls this playboy has sent flowers to. He has photos of himself and friends on four-wheelers, and plenty of him on the beach. He also has pictures of himself riding horses, reminding me of my childhood and making me miss my horse, Cheyanne, back in Memphis.
He has a ton of photos of friends, places he’s visited and random funny quote pictures, but nothing of him with other women. Of course, it makes sense, because he doesn’t “do relationships”.
I finally understand why now; relationships just make you vulnerable and open you up for heartbreak and disappointment. This, I’ve learned the hard way.
I wonder if he has too…is that why he is the way he is now? My own heartbreak has helped me view things from another perspective.
I decided to check my @connect to see if Kayden has seen my tweet, heavily doubting that he had. My jaw falls open when I notice not one, but two tweets from him. Holy crap that was faster than I’d anticipated.
@SavannahLivingston I’m happy to hear you received your flowers today, and that you liked them so much
@SavannahLivingston Also, I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks at the Envy magazine party. It’s going be a night to remember.
What the hell just happened?
I didn’t expect to get any response, but two is just insane. In five minutes I’ve gained over two hundred new followers, most of them asking why Kayden Knox was sending me flowers. I know that my name will soon be trending because of this.
“Oh Crap! I didn’t think this through at all,” I chastise myself and set my laptop down. I begin pacing the living room floor; what did I just do? Why couldn’t I just wait until tomorrow and write to his personal email?
In the space of a few weeks, I’m going to go from the front cover of magazines for announcing my engagement to my engagement being called off, and NOW to me being the “mystery woman” that Kayden Knox is sending flowers to!
I really didn’t think this through. Damn you Logan, this is your fault. You’ve sent my entire world into a whirlwind of gossip and speculation.
I decide the best way to take attention away from me is to tweet Kayden back. I can just imagine the headache he is going to have because to me. You can’t even glance at someone in this industry without people speculating about your sex life.
“You gotta love Hollywood,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head as I type a new tweet to Kayden.
@Kayden Knox - I look forward to the party, Eloise is thrilled with how the January issue of Envy is coming along. Thank you again for the kind words. It’s a difficult time for me; it means a lot.
There…hopefully that will clear some things up, and stop the rumor mill from going into overdrive. My stomach flutters as I read that the hunk is now my follower; now we can communicate in private.
As I admire his profile picture, a smile creeps across my face. He is beyond handsome, and I can only imagine the number of broken hearts he’s caused with that mega-watt smile of his.
Hell, if my heart wasn’t shattered right now, I might actually be able to add myself to that list. Nevertheless, at this moment in time, I don’t ever want to open my heart to another man. I don’t think I can cope with this type of betrayal again.
~~~
I lie low over the next several weeks, trying to ride out the media storm. Thankfully, Logan gave up on trying to convince me to take him back, possibly due to the fact my father threatened to snap his neck if he came near me again.
I spent every day in the sam
e routine - going to work, going to the gym and returning home; before I know it, the end of October is already approaching.
Brooklyn has started asking me to go out dancing over the last few weekends, but I don’t feel up to putting on a fake smile. It’s hard to act like everything is fine while my life is falling apart around me.
I can’t deal with the paparazzi hounding me every time I step foot out of my house. There are more important things they should be worrying about, like our economy, or world hunger…not how I feel after discovering my boyfriend has slept with half of Los Angeles.
My parents have been touring the last few weeks, so no more Friday family dinners, which, oddly, I missed. I could really use their wisdom right about now.
We’ve been trying to stay in touch by using Skype once a week to talk. I thought people would have lost interest in the break up by now, but boy was I wrong. The reporters from all those cheesy magazines have resorted to harassing my parents, turning every tour promotion into a question and answer session about me.
Thanks to a few of the models at Logan's agency, interest has skyrocketed over the last few weeks. They quickly realized they could make money off of my turmoil by selling their stories to the tabloids, and now the entire world knows my ex-boyfriend had a vast amount of affairs while we were together. Typically, instead of hurting Logan, it’s actually helped his career. This industry is so twisted, the more the media talks about him, the more attention he gets. Megan’s career is developing rapidly, too; having Logan as a manager right now apparently draws attention to all the right places.
I’m grateful for the distraction that comes with my job, and I’m especially grateful Eloise is so incredibly understanding about everything.
Having paparazzi camped outside our building on numerous occasions, waiting to bombard me with a swarm of questions, can’t be easy to deal with as a boss. Plus, I haven’t exactly been the most entertaining person to be around; tending to avoid any type of socializing, as talking about things makes the pain worse.
Savannah Series Boxed Set: Four Full Novels and One Novella Page 7
