Hollywood Princess by Dana Aynn Levin

Author:Dana Aynn Levin [Levin, Dana Aynn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00N6TOJWM
Publisher: Park-Hill Press
Published: 2014-09-15T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 53 - ELIZABETH

“Skiing in Vermont! When?” I was so excited.

So this was the Valentine’s celebration Danny had hinted at when we separated. A ski weekend certainly was special. Still, Danny’s announcement had caught me by surprise.

“What about Friday’s classes?”

“We blow ‘em off.” Danny shrugged. To him that was no big deal. “I already told Professor Dennison.”

“You told the professor we were missing his class to go skiing!”

Danny’s audacity amazed me, but not as much as his response.

“Owen’s cool with it.”

“Owen?”

“Now that he’s my advisor, he insists.”

I was impressed by their new closeness. I didn’t call Professor Dennison “Owen.” He’d never given me permission.

After the break, Danny had made it official, declaring Political Science and Film as his double majors.

“You discuss us with a professor?” How disconcerting.

“Owen thinks we’re great. Anyway, he brought it up. Owen asked what I was planning, so I told him.”

Thursday afternoon could not come soon enough. I hated waiting for Danny’s last class to end before we could set out for Vermont.

Darkness greeted us when we arrived shortly after six o’clock. The hotel was at once cozy and luxurious. Danny had reserved a suite. The pine-pole Adirondack style furniture was casual yet elegant. Large picture windows in the living room overlooked the slopes lit for night skiing. Both the living room and bedroom contained wood-burning fireplaces with copper barrels stocked with logs seated on the hearth.

Shutters separated the bathroom from the bedroom. Set on a platform, allowing for a view through the bedroom window, was a whirlpool tub large enough for two.

“This is perfect!” I exclaimed after completing my tour. Would I even want to leave this suite to ski?

We found the fireplaces readied, with additional wood waiting in the copper barrels, when we returned from dinner. Danny lit a match and the living room filled with the promised warmth and glow from the orange-yellow flames.

My hopes for an evening of romance were dashed when Danny pulled out a book. “Danny!” I protested. It was only eight o’clock, but I wanted the entire weekend, selfishly every minute, to be about us. Why did Danny have to be so conscientious?

After kicking off my boots, I plopped down on the plush sofa where Danny sat. I leaned against the armrest and settled my feet in his lap. If Danny assumed I was going to quietly comply with his plans, he didn’t know me as well as he thought he did.

I wanted to play!

I tickled Danny with my feet. “Phew,” he teased. Then I tickled him again.

“Cut it out,” he said sternly and held up his book.

I stuck out my tongue. Danny ignored me. I didn’t care. I was content to either cram when we returned or deal with being unprepared on Monday. But not Danny. Anyone who thought he was nothing more than a spoiled party boy did not know Danny.

There was a very good reason why Danny aced every class. He was able to expertly compartmentalize his life. It was why he could spend Saturday night wasted and come to class Monday brilliantly prepared.

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