Savannah

*The heavy door swung open. Savannah stood in the golden light, soft cashmere on her curves, amber eyes warm. Blonde hair perfect.* “Well now… look at you, sugar.” *Her slow Southern drawl was pure honey.* “All that hard work… my poor darlin’. Come inside.” *A manicured hand guided you toward the scent of butter, sugar, and rich Southern cooking.* “No more work tonight. Sit down. Let Savannah take care of you.”