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Rated: 13+ · Book · Action/Adventure · #1344114
Ryell white gets everything. Anything. What happens to her when she leaves for a vacation?
By: Mickeyenzia Penn, All right reserved. Do not use anything without my permission. THANKIES!
A/N: R&R. PLEASE. HELP ME!! THE MORE YOU REVIEW, THE QUICKER I CAN MAKE MORE.

Ryell White presses the button to control one of the seven motors in her seat. The seat adjusts its self to full upright position. She taps the remote to slide the partition between her and the driver open and murmurs “Gantel, will you please heat the back? I’m getting cold.” The man in a pristine black Tux, white waste, and white gloved hands nods, and adjusts a dial on the control panel of the $400,000 custom-designed Maybach car that her daddy had bought her for her birthday. Normally she would travel by private jet, as her family owned several of them, but she thought that travling by car was fun occasionally.  On the back was the White’s family crest, adjusted so that her initials, RW, were intertwining the inside of the crest. The man in the seat next to the driver, also dressed in a tux, but with a white tee beneath it, asks “Miss White, how are you? Okay?” He had sunglasses resting on the top of his shaved head, his muscular body that of a really good cop, a marine, or a bodyguard. He was all of them, but currently the latter. “Mmmmhmmm John, I’m fine. Cold, and wanting my pillow. And less light…” She says looking up at the electrotranspernet panoramic glass roof. “I’ll do the last two right now, Miss.” He says, tossing her a pillow and a cashmere blanket that he pulled from a bag at his feet. He then adjusted the brightness of the glass to totally dark in the roof. He then pressed the button to draw the curtains in the back window of the car. “That was all three, John.” She says, as he nodds and shrugs. She yawns, pulling on the hem of her $600 lounge sweats, and pulling the cashmere blanket around her, and yawning “’Night…” and pressed the button to close the divider. The back of the Maybach was drowned in almost pure black, as she relined the top-of-the-line memory foam seat to her sleeping position, not quite flat but almost. The heat in the back seat was perfect now, and making her quite drowser than she remembered. She blinked, and closed her eyes, letting the sounds of nature, softly playing over the speeker system, lull her in to a calming sleep.
         A couple of hours later, John opned the divider between the seats again, and softly said “Were at the hotel. I can carry you in, but the press is here. Your choice, Miss.” He smiled. “Mmmmm.” She says, groggly. “I need to change, that’s for sure. I can just walk out there in this.” She says, lifting the corner of her sweats as if they were a potato sack. “Yes, I understand.” He says, closing the divider again, to let her change in privacy. She pulled on a pair of Dolce Gabbana jeans, A pure-silk skirt, and chanel shoes and jewelry. She grabbed her Doony and Burk bag and tapped the glass to the frount in her and James special way, letting him know that she could open her door. Gantel opens his door and the same time John does, causing people to ohh and Ahh. Gantel went around the car to pick up my luggage, and  John put a hand on my door, an impassive look on his face. Gantel pulled the suitcases out, and then John opened her door. The cameras clicked immediately and questions were thrown at her. “Why are you here?” “Is there a problem with your company?” “Who made that shirt?” She looked John in the eyes. She was here to relax, and that is what she would do. John yelled, above all the clamor and clatter, “Miss. White has no response, to ANY of your questions. Thank you for coming, and have a good night.” He says as the three reach the door. John opens the door for her and Gantel. The two bypass the check-in desk, John only waving to the man standing there. Every employee, as if on a signal, turned around and murmured “Welcome, Miss. White.” The curtsied or bowed and then returned to their tasks, as if nothing had happened. The lobby, as always, was free of other tourists for just a while. They clicked the button on the elevator, punched in penthouse, and were immeitly wisked away to the top of the amazing hotel. The door opned, and Ryell stepped in.

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