I want to thank those who gave me their kind reviews and condolences. They were so sweet, and each one truly touched me. I cannot thank you guys enough.

I wanted to update this sooner, but stress and writers block have gotten the best of me. I apologize for this update taking so long. However, I am trying my best!

Don't forget to review!

Lots of love,

Christine

Christmas had come and gone in a flash. In fact, it had been the fastest Christmas I have ever experienced. But it wasn't like anything had changed. My older brother, Joe, and his fiancee, Emma, came from Rhode Island to come open gifts with me and my parents in the morning, followed by the yearly tradition of a large Christmas brunch, complete with french toast, eggs, homefries, bacon, sausage and toast. My mother always went all out. After enjoying the meal and cleaning up, we spent the rest of the day over at my mother's parent's house where the rest of the family gathered, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. My mother's side of the family was quite large, and my father's was never as big. We always spent Christmas Eve with his family.

Needless to say, Christmas always turned into a late night. When 6 AM approached the next morning, I was not at all happy waking up to my alarm clock, which sounded much too similar to my high school's fire alarm, on my nightstand. I hissed in response, refusing to leave my humble abode known as my bed.

"Rise and shine, Luce!" I heard my dad yell outside my bedroom, "We have a lot to do these next few hours before the Fab Four checks in! Time to get a move on!"

I had not been awake long enough to deal with my father's enthusiasm. Groaning, I reached over to turn off the blaring siren. Instead, I knocked it right off my nightstand and onto the floor.

Today was going to be interesting.

The hours went by quickly as we cleaned the hotel from top to bottom, putting it in tip-top shape. The Beatles were upgraded to our best suite in the place, complete with four rooms, a television, and access to the rooftop, where you could see all of New York city below you.

And now, they were finally here.

I was the one who had to take their dinner order. Not only that, but I had to introduce myself to them. I hadn't gotten the chance to meet them yet, as my father did not want to bombard them with introductions when they first arrived.

"Are you nervous, dear?" My dad looked at me, grinning, as I continued pacing around the kitchen. I was probably beginning to irritate the chefs around me.

"No!" I lied.

I wasn't their biggest fan, but I really did respect the four of them. They were all very talented men, and I was intimidated by them. I mean, who wouldn't be? They were the most famous men on the planet.

I actually took the time to put effort into how I looked. I braided my hair the night before so it fell in loose waves down my back. I put on my best eye-shadow, attempting to perfect the smokey-eye look, attempting to make my sea-green eyes pop, and I wore a dark red lipstick.

I even wore my only push-up bra, although it wouldn't exactly be noticed with the black, long-sleeved button-up shirt I was forced to wear.

"Relax," dad put his hand on my shoulder, "They may be famous but they're still people."

"Right," I nodded taking a deep breath, "They're just people. With lots of money."

"Exactly," he chuckled, pushing me out the door into the dining room, "Relax!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I huffed.

I took a few more deep breaths as I approached their table in a secluded area of the dining room. It was a room separated from the main dining room by large glass doors. It was where businessmen held business meetings, and where others hosted baby showers, parties, rehearsal dinners for weddings, stuff like that.

It was also where we let our most special guest eat so they could be away from everyone else.

I nearly froze as I saw them through the glass doors. There they were, all four of them. They all wore suits, their jackets draped on the backs of their chair, no ties. Their hair had the same long, shaggy look. They were not as clean-cut as they did when they came here two years ago.

All four of them were leaned back in their chairs, laughing about something, and I couldn't help but admire them for seeming so care-free.

Maybe this was one of the few opportunities they had to wind down and be themselves.

I took one last deep breath and walked through the glass doors. They all turned at once to face me.

"Oh hello, hello," Paul said with a smile.

"Hi," I smiled, relaxing a bit after Paul's warm greeting. "I'm Lucy Rockwell, the owner's daughter. I'll be your server for tonight."

"Just our server? That's a disappointment," John said eyeing me up and down, giving me a sexy grin afterwards. My stomach couldn't help but flop. I never really thought of him as attractive, but that smile won me over.

No wonder so many women acted mental around him.

"Well, I'd hate to disappoint you," I joked, "But this is the job I attend to here."

"Oh don't mind him, he's just missing his wife," Ringo teased, kicking him from across the table. John scoffed.

"She could have been here if she wanted to," he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.

"He's a bastard when he's horny," George whispered to me loudly, forcing me to laugh. Overhearing, John then proceeded to kick him hard in shin. George started laughing hysterically, gripping his leg, and Ringo laughed along with him.

"Hey, settle down boys," Paul scolded, "You're all being very obnoxious in front of our lovely waitress here. We haven't even introduced ourselves!"

"Oh, there's no need," I smiled, "I know who you are."

"No, no, no," Paul shook his head. "You introduced yourself, you should get the same respect from us. I'm Paul," he gave me another smile, which was very warm and welcoming. He was just so cute, such a polite man. I had just met him a few moments ago, but he was already making me feel warm and fuzzy.

"Ringo," he winked, "I'm the drummer."

"George. They call me the quiet one when I'm really not."

Both him and Ringo seemed to be the most playful. They all seemed to mess with each other. By the way they were towards each other, you knew they were more than just band-mates. They were best friends.

After all, if you're spending so much time with the same people, you would have to make it entertaining somehow.

"And I'm John," he took a drag from his cigarette, not taking his eyes off me.

No man ever looked at me the way he did and I was already attracted to him.

"It's truly a pleasure to meet all of you," I said, "And my family and I are very happy to have you all here."

"It's not a problem," George said, "We like it here."

"Our suite is fantastic," Paul exclaimed, "Such a wonderful view of New York."

"You should come up and see it," Ringo said, lighting a cigarette of his own, "We're already sick of each other. It would be nice to have some company to keep us in line."

"Yes, you'll have to watch us, we're quite rowdy," George snickered.

"We'll end up tearing the place apart," Paul joked.

"Having us here was an awful idea," Ringo shook his head.

"We're just huge embarrassments," John chimed in.

The jokes never stopped between them. I couldn't stop smiling.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Could you bring us a pitcher of water and a bottle of your finest red wine?" Paul requested.

"Of course, anything else?"'

"Scotch on the rocks," John ordered.

"Bourbon for me," Ringo said.

"Is that everything?"

A pause.

"I think so," George said.

"You will be back, won't you?" Ringo said with puppy dog eyes. I laughed.

"Of course I will."

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