Post by Rachel Louise on Feb 14, 2007 18:22:49 GMT -5
Rachel had heard of a million 'queen bees' that were all about public displays of affection, but as she watched impending relationships and such unfold right in front of her, she decided that she was not one of them. She could carry a title with class, and planned to until the day she... got wrinkles. Something like that. So she gave Jimmy a quick kiss on the lips--and it still managed to give her goosebumps. Hey, that was the mark of real attraction, she figured. Then she reached down to grab his hand, pulling him a little closer to her. Nothing obvious, hopefully. She could feel eyes on her, though, and her attention turned to all her friends... and the people that were just 'there.'
Her huge, dark brown eyes slipped over the crowd with ease, and she tossed a quick smile at Elizabeth, who had just made an entrance. Faces that she hadn't known prior to this little event blurred in front of her, namely newcomers that had barely made it onto the A-list, and they should be grateful that they had at all... but Rachel would keep those thoughts to herself. It wasn't her job to be a bitch. That was Lauren's. She realized that she was being quite rude, though, and decided to allow them inside the palatial beachfront mansion they had only seen the doorstep of.
"Oh! Sorry, I've been rude. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Rachel." She flashed a quick smile, her hand still interwined with Jimmy's as a random ocean breeze blew back her hair. The feeling was a familiar one in Orange County. "Welcome to the Conrad... err.. home, because I guess a lot of you have never been here." When Rachel spoke, there was a lot that went unsaid--and a lot that was just plain understood. They'd learn to get it in time. "Come on in." She swept her arm backwards, Vanna-style, before stepping again inside the cavernous foyer.
Mexican-style red tiles were on the floor, an a lovely pale beige pearl paint covered the walls. Intricate, gold-leaf-edged mirrors hung at intervals on the walls, and a not-so-comfortable-looking wrought iron-and-cherry bench sat up against the far wall. All in all it was refined while still showing off amazing wealth. The interior designers had done a good job, suffice to say, but there was no point in hanging around in the front hall all day.
She continued through the house--kitchen, second living room--before reaching the door to the patio and flinging it open, hearing footsteps behind her. It felt good to be leading the way again. Lauren glanced over and waved briefly at everyone, though she appeared to be going through a mental checklist. Rachel knew her best friend was probably freaking out, and that was fine. Hell, as long as nobody exploded or died, this trip could rock. It was Milan. Clearly.
"We've got people to bring your stuff on the plane. It should fit everyone comfortably. Just pick a seat and then we can go."
Her huge, dark brown eyes slipped over the crowd with ease, and she tossed a quick smile at Elizabeth, who had just made an entrance. Faces that she hadn't known prior to this little event blurred in front of her, namely newcomers that had barely made it onto the A-list, and they should be grateful that they had at all... but Rachel would keep those thoughts to herself. It wasn't her job to be a bitch. That was Lauren's. She realized that she was being quite rude, though, and decided to allow them inside the palatial beachfront mansion they had only seen the doorstep of.
"Oh! Sorry, I've been rude. For those of you who don't know me, I'm Rachel." She flashed a quick smile, her hand still interwined with Jimmy's as a random ocean breeze blew back her hair. The feeling was a familiar one in Orange County. "Welcome to the Conrad... err.. home, because I guess a lot of you have never been here." When Rachel spoke, there was a lot that went unsaid--and a lot that was just plain understood. They'd learn to get it in time. "Come on in." She swept her arm backwards, Vanna-style, before stepping again inside the cavernous foyer.
Mexican-style red tiles were on the floor, an a lovely pale beige pearl paint covered the walls. Intricate, gold-leaf-edged mirrors hung at intervals on the walls, and a not-so-comfortable-looking wrought iron-and-cherry bench sat up against the far wall. All in all it was refined while still showing off amazing wealth. The interior designers had done a good job, suffice to say, but there was no point in hanging around in the front hall all day.
She continued through the house--kitchen, second living room--before reaching the door to the patio and flinging it open, hearing footsteps behind her. It felt good to be leading the way again. Lauren glanced over and waved briefly at everyone, though she appeared to be going through a mental checklist. Rachel knew her best friend was probably freaking out, and that was fine. Hell, as long as nobody exploded or died, this trip could rock. It was Milan. Clearly.
"We've got people to bring your stuff on the plane. It should fit everyone comfortably. Just pick a seat and then we can go."