The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pranks

Chapter 3 - Ivy

Jeremy was smart in not picking us all up at home for our dates. It would have been a dead giveaway if he had.

Which means Jeremy paid for a spa trip for me. Once Low finished telling us what happened on her 'date', I left for town.

Once I parked my tiny, navy blue sports car in front of Sensual Feelings, I quickly learned how much Jeremy spent for me to get pampered.

Now this isn't just a normal spa, it's a high-end one that only services the A-listers.

After a mud bath, facial, manicure, pedicure, two hour massage and hot stones, I'm as relaxed as ever. If I had 50k to blow once a week, I'd totally do it there. Feeling blissful and lethargic altogether is amazing.

Thankfully, they did my makeup as well as I was in no shape to do any of it. I also learned that the dress I brought with me to wear to dinner wouldn't cut it. Oh, no! Jeremy went out and bought me a twenty-thousand--yes a twenty-thousand dollar dinner gown!

Now, I'm normally the calm and rational sister, but 20k for a damn dress?! Who in their right mind would spend that much money on a dress! Not I, that's for damn sure!

Right now, I'm sitting in the back of a Rolls Royce as the driver chauffeurs me around town to no doubt the fanciest restaurant around.

Five minutes later, we come to a stop. The chauffeur opens my door, but it's Jeremy who ducks his head down to see me with an arm out for me to grab. Doing so, I smoothly glide out of the back seat and onto the red carpet walkway.

Hot damn is this man pulling out all the strings for my V-card! Does he believe because I'm the more reserved out of us three sisters that being dolled up will help?

"You look breathtaking, Ivy. I'm the luckiest man in the world tonight to have you on my arm." Jeremey beams, giving me a saucy wink.

Of course, I blush and act the part of a shy, innocent female. I know what you do under the bleachers Jeremy Sinclair, you aren't going to fool me into thinking I'm special in your eyes.

"Thank you," I sigh dreamily.

Don't make me gag!

"You're very welcome." The typical cocky smirk is plastered all over his face. Does he believe he's won me over already because of the spa treatment?

The second we make it through the sliding glass doors, my jaw drops to the floor at the magnificence of the interior. How much does a plate in this place cost? I mean there are chandeliers over every single table, waiters in penguin tuxedos with white towels over their arms and sticks up their asses.

Each table is spaced out with dividers to the point I can't hear what everyone is saying. Soundproofing, possibly?

We don't even have to wait to be seated or asked who we are. A male with ungodly thick muscles steps up and directs the two of us to a corner table out of sight from every single person in the room. There is even a moveable divider to block out the entrance to our little alcove.

It makes me a little nervous to be trapped in here without a way for someone to witness Jeremy touching me.

Jermey stops in front of a chair and pulls it out for me to sit down in. Being the nice person that I am, I take it without giving him any lip. That would be Low's or Vee's job.

He leisurely takes his own seat, placing the pristine white cloth napkin on his lap with a flick of his wrists. "Now, I don't want you to feel intimidated by this restaurant and the prices of the plates. You pick whatever your heart desires. There won't be any expenses I won't pay to be with you, Ivy. You're my type of girl, and now that we are seniors and about to graduate, I need to think about my future."