Anything For Ivy Morris, chapter 1
I watched the movers move all of my things into the house. My house. Daddy bought me a house. And it was about time. Seriously, 25 years old, and Daddy still had me living with him. Of course, I did get whatever I wanted then, but really, I still do. 3 credit cards with no limits; a Porsche; and now a beautiful 2 story house with 5 bedrooms, a pool house, pool, jacuzzi, 4 bathrooms, huge living room, beautiful dining room, and a great kitchen. Not that I cook or anything, but it's good to have food in the house. Plus I have a house keeper, butler (so Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, right?) and a once-a-week maid service. And all of it in San Fransisco.
Now, don't get me wrong- I love L.A- it's just becoming a hassle dealing with so much stress, which here was a lot of at Daddy's. I mean, seriously, Daddy is the President, founder, and CEO of Morris Designs, an all-out, totally hip, interior design and decorating company.
Mom helps manage bookwork and things like that for Daddy, but mostly she's one of those wives who flits around town showing off her new Gucci shoes in her convertable, BMW, or Trans-am. Whichever one makes her feel richer that day.
But enough about the parents-and back to me-. The house is fully furnished with Morris, Versaci, Louis Vouiton, and Dooney and Bourke things. Being the good daughter, I get whatever I want.
I have a sister, Elizabeth. She's 28, and skipped off to Italy after she went to art school on a scholarship.
"Miss Morris, everything is put where you said. You need us for anything else?" yelled Jorge, the moving coordinator.
"No, Jorge, I've got it all covered. Thanks!" I grinned. My black stiletto Jimmy Choo's clicked against the tile paved driveway as I skipped to my large oak door. "It'll do," I shrugged, and put my purse in my bedroom, before flipping open my baby pink Razr phone, and calling everybody from Paris Hilton to my friend from boarding school who had just moved to California, Raynee Thompsin.
"Lex, can you hook me up with some music tonight?" I called my DJ friend, Lex King, otherwise known as, "DeeJay King".
"Anything for Ivy Morris. Where;s your new place?" he asked. After persuading Harry, the butler to act as a full bar tender (Oh, what money can do) for the evening, my home warming bash was about to begin.
I changed into a turquois halter top that was about a centimeter above my belly-button; a tight, white mini skirt; and some strappy silver stillettos. I flipped my auburn hair under at the ends, whisked my bangs to the sides, and applied mass amounts of eye make-up around my lime green eyes. As usual, Ivy Morris looked glamorous. Music thumping, bodys pumping, my party was bumping.
"Ivy!" I heard a familiar voice yell.
"Ami!" I screeched in repsonse. I hadn't seen Amelie Luke since 2 summers ago in Paris, but had spoken to her frequently.
"Oh, I missed you terribly, Miss Ivy." She grinned, and hugged me.
"Oh me too, Ame's. How'd you know about my little shin-dig?" I asked.
"I didn't. But I showed up at your fathers house, and he told me you moved, so I came."
"And you look fabulous for the occasion too, my dear."
"Oh, this old thing?" she asked, and pointed to her black camisole,red knee length skirt, and black lether stiletto boots. After a few moments of catching up, Amelie scurried off, because she had a flight in the morning. She was only able to stop and say hello.
"Guess who?" I heard the sexiest voice on a man ever whisper into my ears just moments later.
"Gus?" I asked jokingly. The only guy I knew by Gus was my dad's 43 year old accountant.
"Who's Gus?" my boyfriend asked accusingly.
"Oh, Zach, my goodness." I turned, and kissed him passionately on the lips.
"Hey Ive's." He grinned and kissed back. As we dance to 50 Cent's Candy Shop, the music seemed to be getting even louder, and then my cell began ringing.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Miss Morris, we have someone at the gate requesting to be let in. Says he's your neighbor." said Emanuel, head of my Daddy's house security, and now mine.
"Let them in." I said, not wanting to bother. I walked out the front door to geret my new neigbor, and up to me came the most pissed-off guy I had ever seen.
Now, don't get me wrong- I love L.A- it's just becoming a hassle dealing with so much stress, which here was a lot of at Daddy's. I mean, seriously, Daddy is the President, founder, and CEO of Morris Designs, an all-out, totally hip, interior design and decorating company.
Mom helps manage bookwork and things like that for Daddy, but mostly she's one of those wives who flits around town showing off her new Gucci shoes in her convertable, BMW, or Trans-am. Whichever one makes her feel richer that day.
But enough about the parents-and back to me-. The house is fully furnished with Morris, Versaci, Louis Vouiton, and Dooney and Bourke things. Being the good daughter, I get whatever I want.
I have a sister, Elizabeth. She's 28, and skipped off to Italy after she went to art school on a scholarship.
"Miss Morris, everything is put where you said. You need us for anything else?" yelled Jorge, the moving coordinator.
"No, Jorge, I've got it all covered. Thanks!" I grinned. My black stiletto Jimmy Choo's clicked against the tile paved driveway as I skipped to my large oak door. "It'll do," I shrugged, and put my purse in my bedroom, before flipping open my baby pink Razr phone, and calling everybody from Paris Hilton to my friend from boarding school who had just moved to California, Raynee Thompsin.
"Lex, can you hook me up with some music tonight?" I called my DJ friend, Lex King, otherwise known as, "DeeJay King".
"Anything for Ivy Morris. Where;s your new place?" he asked. After persuading Harry, the butler to act as a full bar tender (Oh, what money can do) for the evening, my home warming bash was about to begin.
I changed into a turquois halter top that was about a centimeter above my belly-button; a tight, white mini skirt; and some strappy silver stillettos. I flipped my auburn hair under at the ends, whisked my bangs to the sides, and applied mass amounts of eye make-up around my lime green eyes. As usual, Ivy Morris looked glamorous. Music thumping, bodys pumping, my party was bumping.
"Ivy!" I heard a familiar voice yell.
"Ami!" I screeched in repsonse. I hadn't seen Amelie Luke since 2 summers ago in Paris, but had spoken to her frequently.
"Oh, I missed you terribly, Miss Ivy." She grinned, and hugged me.
"Oh me too, Ame's. How'd you know about my little shin-dig?" I asked.
"I didn't. But I showed up at your fathers house, and he told me you moved, so I came."
"And you look fabulous for the occasion too, my dear."
"Oh, this old thing?" she asked, and pointed to her black camisole,red knee length skirt, and black lether stiletto boots. After a few moments of catching up, Amelie scurried off, because she had a flight in the morning. She was only able to stop and say hello.
"Guess who?" I heard the sexiest voice on a man ever whisper into my ears just moments later.
"Gus?" I asked jokingly. The only guy I knew by Gus was my dad's 43 year old accountant.
"Who's Gus?" my boyfriend asked accusingly.
"Oh, Zach, my goodness." I turned, and kissed him passionately on the lips.
"Hey Ive's." He grinned and kissed back. As we dance to 50 Cent's Candy Shop, the music seemed to be getting even louder, and then my cell began ringing.
"Hello?" I asked.
"Miss Morris, we have someone at the gate requesting to be let in. Says he's your neighbor." said Emanuel, head of my Daddy's house security, and now mine.
"Let them in." I said, not wanting to bother. I walked out the front door to geret my new neigbor, and up to me came the most pissed-off guy I had ever seen.
