“If you say grilled …” Kellie says. I look over at her, and she has one sauce open and is dipping a chicken bite. “We should end this right now.”
Shaking my head, I laugh. “I’m good with whatever.” Pulling out a chair, I sit down while I watch Kellie dip another piece of chicken in the sauce. Cori sets a wrapped sandwich in front of me with waffle fries. “I don’t want any fries.”
“Ugh,” Kellie says, shaking her head. “You’re missing out, Brian.” I unwrap my chicken and see that I got the grilled one, and I don’t mind. I eat it without anything. Kellie doesn’t talk; she just eats and sounds almost as if she’s humming. “What time is it?”
“You have time for a one-hour nap, and then I have someone coming to do your hair and makeup,” Cori says, and Kellie nods. I don’t say anything and neither do the girls. Kellie gets up, grabbing a water bottle. Opening it, she drains half of it.
“That was the best meal I’ve ever had in my life,” Kellie says, and Cori laughs, looking at her.
“You’ve had meals at Michelin-starred restaurants, and you pick Chick-fil-A?” She gathers the garbage, cleaning up the table.
“I’m just a simple country girl at heart.” She grabs her own garbage and tosses it in the bag as she gets up. “Now it’s time for me to take a nap. Starfish style.”
Cori and I watch her walk back inside, and I look at Cori. “Where is this dinner again? What should my wardrobe be?”
“Bad and Boujee,” she says, and I grab my phone. “Are you googling Bad and Boujee?”
“Pretty much.” Answering her honestly, I say, “Did you know it’s also a slang word and means high class ballin’?” I shake my head. “What time do I need to be ready?”
“Reservations are at eight.” She walks inside, and I get up and follow her. “We are leaving here at seven thirty.”
“Wait, isn’t it a date?” I ask her, confused, and she nods her head. “Then why isn’t he picking her up?”
Cori laughs, tossing the stuff in the garbage. “Brian, this is Hollywood. The only time he picks her up is if it’s for an award show or they are in the same house.”
“Good to know,” I tell her, and she grabs her bag and walks out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her. “I guess chivalry is dead in Hollywood,” I say to myself, going into my own room and getting ready for the spectacle to come.
Chapter Nine
Kellie
I close my eyes while the glam squad adds the finishing touches to my makeup. We are in my private bathroom while she does my face; the hair lady just left. When the woman stands away from me, I open my eyes and see what she’s done. She has done more of a smoky eye than I usually do, making my green eyes pop. My long blond hair is curled perfectly. “Thank you so much.” I get off the chair and step into the bedroom and find Cori sitting on the bed with my outfit laid out next to her. She gets up, and I see she is wearing a long-sleeved black one-piece dress with a thin gold belt around her waist.
“I have two outfits,” she says, “but I like the pants better.” I look at the leather skirt combo, and I agree with her. Pants will be more comfy. Nodding, I grab the silk pantsuit and step into it, pulling it up over my hips and putting my hands through the arm holes. It goes up to my neck in the front, but once you turn around, my whole back is open. I tie the gold belt around the waist and then walk to the long mirror, taking in my whole look. The pants are tight around the ankle, so I grab my black shoes with the strap across the toes and tie around the ankle. “You need to add bracelets and stuff.” I nod at her, going to the choices that she put on the dresser. I grab the five gold bangles and also the matching watch. “Perfect.”
“Yeah, I’m ready to go,” I tell her, grabbing my Yves Saint Laurent black purse in my hand and walking into the living room. Cori walks over to Brian’s door and knocks.
“We are ready when you are.” She looks at me. “You forgot earrings,” she says. My hand goes to my ear, and I realize she’s right. “I’ll get the diamond ones.” She goes back into the room to get my diamond earrings when Brian’s door opens, and he steps out. I’m not sure I’m ready for it, and I just stand here. He walks out in black dress pants that mold to him, his hand fastening the cuff at his wrist of the deep purple dress shirt buttoned up to the middle of his chest. The collar is open, showing you the smooth skin underneath, and his hair is perfectly done. I may be going to dinner with the hottest actor in Hollywood tonight, but he’s fifty times better looking.