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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 10, 2007 2:24:42 GMT -5
Whitley exited through the hotel's main doors. Her usually blond hair was now brown with an amazing amount of blond highlights. Her hair color changed more than mascara. Speaking of makeup, the nineteen year-olds emerald green eyes were lined in thick black eyeliner. Thick enough to contrast against her eyes but thin enough so that she wasn't overdoing it. Like always. Along with the eyeliner, Whitley also had on some basic powder, some blush, and of course, her lips were covered in gloss.
The clicking of her brown and bamboo heeled Gucci wedges could be heard as she made her way towards the restaurant. She'd take a cab but she didn't trust those dirty drivers. Or the dirty car, period. It just wasn't worth it. Miss Cooper's attire consisted of a chocolate colored Armani Exchange Halter with a beaded neckline and a pair of dark washed, skinny leg 7 For All Mankind jeans. Sure, they were jeans, but they were fashionable jeans and the management would just have to.. suck it. Yeah.
Entering the restaurant, Whitley Cooper pushed her black and white signature Chanel purse further up her shoulder and held up a peace sign to the hostess. Sure, she wasn't really telling the young girl "peace" she was just simply informing her that there would be two guests in their party. After the waitress nodded and lead her to a table, Coop followed close behind her, running her acrylic fingernails through her straightened hair.
"The boy.. that will be joining me.. his name is Oliver. And if he asks, I'm Whitley. Got it?" Waving the hostess away, Whitley took a seat and set her purse down on top of the table, it was too expensive to have to sit on the ground. Ew. Peering around her, she noticed a guy looking at her and made a face in disgust. He's like what, fifty? Grosss. She immediately stood up and switched chairs so she couldn't see the old guy anymore and tapped her fingers against the table. This boy was late. And that did not make Whitley happy.
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Post by Oliver Young on Jul 10, 2007 21:15:29 GMT -5
Ollie took his damn sweet time striding across the resort to this high-class restaurant he was supposed to meet Whitley at. She was a friend of Daylin's, so might as well, right? Not to mention she was fuckin' hott as.
He entered the establishment moments later, nodding to the doormen and making his way to the hostess' podium. She opened her mouth to object to his fitted Armani vintage-wash jeans but Oliver held up a finger to stop her, then palming her a $20. He might make good money, but there'd be no palming 50's here.
Adjusting the maroon and black tie he wore around the 'popped' collar of his white collared shirt, he revealed that boyish smirk of his. "I'm here to meet a Whitley," he told her, his thick Southern British accent making his speech a tad difficult for a Mexico-native to understand.
His black Vans scuffed along the tiling as he followed the pretty lady to the table that Coop occupied. He took a seat across from her, "Sorry I'm late," he apologised, hoping the charming grin he sported would keep the beautiful girl from growing too angry with him.
"You're looking right fit this evening, love," Oliver complimented, though truthfully, "it's been a while."
He absent-mindedly reached for his light blond hair, mussing it slightly though it didn't help the fact that it appeared he'd just rolled out of bed, his bangs seeming to be the most 'together' part of his attire.
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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 10, 2007 22:38:55 GMT -5
Whitley put on some-kind-of-amazing fake smile as the waiter brought her a menu. That is, until she realized that the idiot only brought her one. What? Did he actually think that a girl like Whitley would go out to restaurant to eat by herself ? "Uhmm, yeah. See how's there's two chairs hereee? Yeah, that's dos. Twoooo. Bring me two menus, damnitt." Miss Cooper annoyingly pointed at the other chair and held up yet another peace sign, only to make her point, of course. Fucking Beaners.
Oh, and hadn't Olive come at just the perfect time? He got to witness the whole fiasco. Lucky him. An actual smile flowed over lips as he sat down across from her. He was such a cutie. But, he was late. And ohh, look at that grin. Well, okay, he could make it up to her by paying the bill. Turning around, Whitley stared at the waiter, who was still standing beside her. "Uhh, how about you go get that for me now? I could've had you fired and out of here in the time you've taken already." Shaking her head furiously, Coop turned back around and fixed her attention on the boy across from her.
You're looking right fit this evening, love. Whatta suckupp. "Awwuh, thankss. You're not too shabby yourself, bayybee. Oh, I know it has. You haven't been over to the suite lately. I've started to worry if you were still alive. What's up with that?" Sure, she had plenty of fun without the British cutie, but Whitley still loved having him over. I mean he was gorgeous and the fact that she actually really liked this boy didn't hurt either. But, boys will be boysss. Standing up, Whitley walked to the other side of the table and leaned down in front of him, wrapping her skinny bare arms around him and kissing his cheek. So maybe she had missed him a little..
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Post by Oliver Young on Jul 11, 2007 14:42:31 GMT -5
"Sorry about that," Oliver smiled apologetically, adding, "I've been working nonstop lately, busting my arse to get us a tour." Ah, yes, Ollie-boy played bass and backup vocals in a British pop/punk band. So what was he doing in Mexico? Nothing productive, that's for bloody sure.
Once she stood up to come give him a hug and kiss, Oliver gladly returned the gesture, appreciative of the European greeting style. Plus, what red-blooded male would mind a kiss /anywhere/ from the gorgeous Whitley. "I'll be sure to come by the suite more often, okay?"
For someone who spent so much time dicking around in Cabo, he actually had never been to this place. Pena alta? That means like tall pineapple, right? Sure. Ollie took a look at the menu. Pricey, but nothing he couldn't afford. "So, d'you know what's good here?" he asked Coop, looking back up at her curiously.
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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 11, 2007 15:19:31 GMT -5
After Whitley was content with their little reuniting hug, she sat back down in her seat and adjusted the halter top around her neck, her eyes still glued on Oliver. "Ohhhkay. But I'm holding you to it. You better come over like.. three times a week. Including tonight." Flirty much? Always. Especially around cute boys.. like Oliver.
The good for nothing waiter returned with the other menu and Whitley took it from him, not bothering to say thank you or even look at him. Well, her green peepers did meet his but only after he asked what they wanted to drink. "Uhmm, whatever he has." Her gaze went back to the menu and she shook her head. "Truthfully, I haven't been here yet. But Daylin said the grilled cheese was good." A playful smile spread across her lips as she looked up at Oliver. She hadn't had grilled cheese in.. too long. And she'd be totally down with eating some.
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Post by Oliver Young on Jul 11, 2007 15:42:13 GMT -5
Ollie raised his eyebrows. She was quite the little firecracker, eh? And so very eager to spend quality time with our chap, Mr. Young here. "Three times a week? Ain't that a bit much?" he questioned, but nodded affirmatively regarding her request that he come over tonight. "Is Daylin going to be around?" he asked her, purely out of his own curiosity.
Looking up at the waiter, Oliver thought it over a moment before deciding on his beverage of choice for the evening, "We'll have two Coronas." Then, figuring he might as well order supper too considering it would speed up the food delivery, he added, "And I think we're ready to order." He took a glance at Whitley, looking for approval at the conclusion he'd just jumped to. "I'll have the grilled cheese, then."
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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 11, 2007 20:25:12 GMT -5
"Well, I suppose it depends on what exactly we do while you're over. I mean, three times a week might not be enough.." Ooh, was Whitley on top of it or what? She deserved some kind of trophy. Ohgod. Way to kill the mood, Ollie. "Uhmm, I don't know." She replied, honestly. With Daylin, you really never knew. She was a party girl. So, it was quite possible that her gorgeous roomie wasn't going to be there.
Corona. Yummy. Whitley nodded her head, "Grilled cheese from me too. Porrr favorrr." Oh you roll those r's honey. Running her fingers through her hair, Whitley gave the waiter back her menu and searched through her purse. Pulling out tube of lip gloss, she glided it across her lips and then pushed it back in her purse. "Sooo, how's the band-thingy?"
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Post by Oliver Young on Jul 11, 2007 20:41:05 GMT -5
Oooh. Was Coop suggesting they have sexual intercourse? Hope so. AND Daylin might not be there? Raising his eyebrows curiously, he leaned forward in his chair. "Good, I'll have you all to myself." He gave her a flirty wink. Okay, so maybe Oliver was a bit cheesy, but the accent makes up for it, eh? Plus, music is his 'thing', not flirting. But who was he kidding, he may be after Daylin, but this Cooper friend of hers had some serious potential. Something about their overly-bitchy attitudes... he just couldn't seem to get enough.
He couldn't resist the urge to chuckle lightly at her attempted Spanish. Not that he was Ricky Martin or anything... but her attempt was cute. "Ace language skills there, love," he teased her, grinning as he watched the disgruntled waiter walk away. "The band-thingy's... good, I suppose. We're cutting a new record. It's in post-production right now."
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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 11, 2007 21:04:43 GMT -5
Whitley let out a laugh, I'll have you all to myself, nice. Coop rolled her eyes and shifted in the chair, she could feel the old guy staring at her again and that just made her want to puke. As the waiter brought the two bottles of Corona to their table, Whitley eagerly took the beer and lifted it to her lips. She needed the alcohol if she was gonna have to deal with pervy over there.
Turning her attention back to Ollie, Whitey smiled and nodded her head excitingly, "Ooooh, I know righttt? I'm like pro." Setting the condensation glass bottle down on the table, Whitley furrowed her eyebrows, she was obviously lost in what he was saying. Post-whattie? Tilting her head to the side, she tried comprehending what he was saying. Don't hurt yourself. She decided that it would just be best if she nodded and acted like she knew what he was saying. "Yeah? That's coolll." Whatta-freaking-pro. Or.. not.
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Post by Oliver Young on Jul 11, 2007 22:31:03 GMT -5
Oliver silently nodded a 'thanks' to the waiter as he picked up the ice cold bottle of Corona before him. A lime inside the neck of the clear glass, he took a sip. "Man, I love Mexican beer," he commented with a grin.
He couldn't help but sense that he was boring her with his music-talk, so he decided to end it right then and there with a simple "Yeah."
As if on cue, the waiter returned with their grilled cheese. Score. He unfolded his napkin, setting it on his lap in anticipation. He watched as the warm plate was set before him containing the sandwich, chips, and a pickle. He picked one up, testing the temp with his finger before taking a bite. Americans called them "French fries", but there was nothing French about a baked potato wedge.
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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 11, 2007 22:50:40 GMT -5
Coop grinned, ohyes, the beer was good and having Ollie in her company was good too. Of course, she would never admit it because that would mean she was being somekindof clingy. And with Oliver, that was a no-no.
Mmm, she could smell the fatty food from a mile away. Nothing like a couple million calories to flaunt down the runway, right? Whitley made a mental note to remember to excuse herself before she left so she could go and do the "daylin". Ohyes, she had named her little acquired hobby after that ohso amazing best friend of hers.
Looking down at the food before her, Whitley waited until she was sure the food wouldn't burn her mouth and then proceeded onto the grilled cheese. "Oooh, yummy!" So, she probably sounded like some five year old but she was on vacation and didn't have agents breathing down her neck. Sue her for letting go a little. Okay, with the amount of calories in this, a lot. "So, any new girliess I should be aware of?" Random, sure but it would start a conversation.[/color]
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Post by Oliver Young on Jul 11, 2007 23:35:52 GMT -5
Watching Coop just about attack the grilled cheese was quite comical. But, to tell the truth, it was cute. Even nice, for a change. Because when he'd spent so much time around girls like Daylin who puked after every meal, it was nice to go out to eat with a 'normal' chick for a change. He knew the two girls were best friends and pretty much inseparable, but he couldn't help but think (more like hope) that she's different than Daylin and her band of bulimic Barbies.
He took a few bites of his grilled cheese. It was pretty good, no lies. Probably the best he'd ever had. Oliver shrugged in response to her question, stalling his response until he swallowed his food. "Nope. No girlies here. Too busy with the band," he answered truthfully. "What about you? Any lucky blokes get to hold you every night?"
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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 11, 2007 23:56:18 GMT -5
After polishing off the grilled cheese, Whitley made her way to the fries. She was eating at an alarming rate but, hopefully, Oliver didn't notice. She just, wouldn't let that food settle, it would be more painful. Wow, did Ollie just say he had no girlies? Ohmygawddd, he did! That was a first. He was just.. always a ladies man, he should have millions of girls lined up just to get to see him. Well, he probably did.. he just didn't realize it.
Any lucky blokes get to hold you every night? Yeah, sure, unfortunately they usually happened to be different 'blokes' each night. It would be nice just to have one, for once. A little.. balance. But what did Whitley know about balance? Nothing. Nada. Zip. Blah. Looking down at the table, Whitley shook her head no, somewhat ashamed. Whatever, she'd get over it. Looping her arm through her purse's handles, Whitley grabbed hold of her beer and stood up. "I hafta pee. Be-are-bee." And by pee she, of course, meant puke her pricey dinner up. With that, she made her way to the ladies room walking a little slow, but, in the heels she was in, that speed was perfectly fine.
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Post by Oliver Young on Jul 12, 2007 0:14:20 GMT -5
Ollie watched her stand up and take her purse. He nodded, "All right. I'm not goin' anywhere." He smiled up at her as she turned and walked away. He couldn't help but watch that model-worthy arse of hers as she strutted along. Man, she was so fuckin' hott. Oliver was lucky to be in her presence.
He made busy with finishing his Corona and raised his hand, motioning for the waiter to come back over to the table. "Refill?" he requested, holding up the Corona. The waiter nodded before skittering away to fetch the beer.
His mind wandered to their post-supper plans. Would Daylin be there? He'd hung out with the two ladies before, it wasn't like it was awkward or anything, but he kind of wanted to get to know Coop a little better, one-on-one.
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Post by Whitley Cooper on Jul 12, 2007 0:32:09 GMT -5
Emerging from the restroom ten minutes later, Whitley headed back to the table. Sure, she had taken awhile, but she had thrown up two times, then brushed her teeth, two times, and washed her hands, reapplied lotion and lip gloss, and popped a piece of gum in her mouth. She had eaten more than she thought.
Running her manicured fingers through her straightened hair, Coop took a seat and set her purse back down on the table. "Heyy love. Sorry it took so longg. There was a linee. And I was having hair mishaps." Lies. All lies. Bad Whitley, bad girl. Her gaze fixed on the waiter, watching him hand Oliver another beer and then turn to her, asking if she wanted another one also. Shaking her head no, she smiled at the waiter and continued watching him, until he left the table. Then, she was all about Oliver all over again.
Tangling her fingers together, she put her hands in her lap and stared over at Oliver, batting those long and curly eyelashes at him and biting her lower lip. She was deciding whether to play naughty or nice with this boy. If she should just tackle and rape him right then or wait until they got to her hotel room, where Daylin probably was. Oh god, Daylin. What if Daylin wanted Oliver. That would make Coop the worst friend ever. Ah, she would just wait for him to do something and go from there.
Grabbing her purse again, she pushed the straps up on her shoulder and ran her fingers through her hair yet again. She was ready to leave.. so he should just hurry up and make her happy.
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