The Bennett Sisters

Chapter 4 - Savannah Bennett

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4 – Savannah Georgia

I am a selfish girl with double standards and white lies. But at least I'm being up front about it. Others might not give you this sort of blunt confession; make you spend a lot of time wondering what the truth is. I'll just save us all a little time and get it out of the way, because it'll make it a little easier when all's said and done and you can go about your business and decide if you hate me or not. Most people would. Not that I blame them. I could have had just about any guy I wanted, but I had to pick Andy. I only ask that you not forget that he had to pick me too for all this to happen and spiral out of control.

"Writing America's next best-selling novel in your mind?" Andy's deep, raspy voice tickled as it vibrated through his chest. His chest, covered in dark hair, was not his best feature. It was his eyes; his crystalline blue, deceitful, lying eyes. They swallowed you up like the ocean before you knew you were drowning.

"Something like that," I said. He pushed my dark tresses out of my face, tucking them behind my ears. I couldn't help but notice the gold band on his left ring finger. My stomach tightened.

"I better get going, Sav," he said, sighing.

"No," I whined.

"I know, I don't want to leave this bed either," he said.

"But reality calls," I finished, and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he kissed me, letting me know he knew what I was referencing. He'd read it; that surprised me. I mean, my whole family had read Speed Dial, my novel, but I hadn't expected Andy to read it. I didn't know what he thought of it. He hadn't told me he'd even picked it up. Now I felt like I was dying. I was always in a constant state of dying to know what was going on in Andy's mind. But I didn't get to know what was going on in Andy's mind. I only got to know what was going on in Andy's pants. That's all you ever get when you're the other girl.

I watched him get out of bed and pull on his nice black dress pants and white dress shirt, the tie his wife had probably picked out for him. I pulled my silk sheets down, exposing my bare and naked body, and smirked at him as he tied his tie. He'd only had to restart three times because he'd gotten flustered when looking at me.

"You're a heathen, Miss Savannah," he said.

"Here, let me," I said, getting out of bed and reaching for his tie. I tied it while keeping eye contact with him, and folded his collar around it when I was done. I pat him on the shoulder.

"There," I said, "I'm going to go take a shower. You can let yourself out."

"Savannah, don't be like that, you know I can't help it. I have to go. You know the rules," he sighed, pulling his wedding ring out of his pocket and slipping it back onto his left ring finger.

"Just because I know them doesn't mean I have to like them," I said and I shut the bathroom door behind me. I ran a boiling hot bath and sunk into the tub slowly. The hot water was painful and cathartic and it left my skin red.

It wasn't easy being the other woman. I knew it was going to suck when it all started but the heart wants what it wants. And my heart wanted a married man, even if it hurt me.

I got out of the tub and pulled on some panties and a bra and sat down at my desk. My publisher was breathing down my neck. After the success of Speed Dial, I'd been signed to a three book deal, and I was having trouble writing the second book. It wasn't a sequel, as Speed Dial was a standalone novel, but everything I wrote felt more wrong than the steamy affair I was having.

My doorbell rang, and I got up from my desk, the blank white page taunting me, the black flashing line waiting for some letters and works to be forced onto the screen was a reminder that I had three weeks to churn out America's next favorite novel, and I had less than a hundred pages.

"I know it's late, and I know you need to be writing, but I know how you get when you're like this sometimes, and you need to eat," West said at the door. He was holding a box of pizza and a bottle of wine.

"God I love you," I said to my best friend, literary agent, and manager. He was essentially the only person that knew everything about me. He'd toured the country with me on my book tour, and he was the reason that my life didn't fall apart. He kept track of my schedule and made sure I'd eaten. He was also the only person that knew about my relationship with Andy. I let him in and we sat in the living room, watching a Grey's Anatomy re-run as we ate pizza and drank wine.

"How much do you have written?" he asked.

"Less than a hundred pages," I said, and he winced.

"Ouch," he said, "What made you finish Speed Dial? How did you get through to the end? It's brilliant. Did you struggle this much then?"

"I did for a while," I said.

"What changed? Did you take a trip? Do I need to fly you to China to see the Great Wall? Did you get your heart broken? Do I need to make you fall in love? What can I do to make it come back?"

I looked at West with his permanent five o'clock shadow and warm chocolate eyes and gave him a small smile.

"I started sleeping with Andy," I said, "It wasn't love, though. It was just sex."

"Just sex?" he asked, and something clicked. How had I never noticed how attractive West was? Had I seriously been so caught up in Andy that I'd never noticed? I turned to West and smirked.

"Just sex," I confirmed.

"What's that look for?" he asked. I climbed into his lap and his face looked shocked

"Just sex?" I offered.

"Just sex," he nodded, kissing me.