Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1)

by Taylor, Drucie Anne

  “We all have our burdens to bear,” I answer quietly, and look down at my hands.

  “What’s yours?”

  “A few losses, but that’s not so important.”

  “Who or what have you lost, Madeleine?”

  I shake my head. “I just want to have a nice evening and not think about it.”

  Gavin puts a hand on my shoulder. “No problem. I just . . . want to get to know you better.”

  I glance at him shyly, and then look away. Sitting so close to him is unbelievably wonderful, but difficult at the same time, because my body wants more. It’s no wonder, after that kiss this morning. I can still feel his lips on mine when I think about it; I taste his tongue and feel his hardness pressing against my middle. I involuntarily press my legs together to hold back the excitement that I feel. “Are we almost there?”

  “I’ll ask.”

  I hear the driver’s answer and nod. I went to the last premiere with Brooke, because Jonah didn’t feel like going. It was the last time I saw her alive, only three days before her suicide. I miss her so much that it hurts. Her loss tore a much bigger hole in my heart than losing Jonah did.

  Almost half an hour later, the limousine stops in front of the theater. I can’t wait to see how Macey does. Of course I’m convinced she’ll be fantastic, as usual. She’s such a good actress, and her voice is so beautiful that it’s made me cry more than once. She surely could get a record deal if she wanted one, but she wants to keep singing in musicals.

  “My friends are already here,” Gavin says suddenly.

  “Which friends?”

  “The guys from the band. They got tickets for the premiere, too.”

  “Oh!” I say, surprised, as someone opens the door for us. Gavin gets out and offers me his hand. I take it and follow him. Strangely enough, there are a lot of photographers and reporters here, which is why I’d like to hurry into the theater. I hate getting my picture taken when I’m not expecting it. Gavin takes my arm and we set off. “My friends are over there,” he whispers in my ear.

  “Do you want to go say hello?”

  Gavin walks a little faster, but not too fast. “I’ll do that soon, but first I’d like to walk past the paparazzi with you.”

  “Mr. McLeod, one question!” a reporter calls, but Gavin waves him off. “Please, Mr. McLeod!”

  “No comment today,” he finally responds, and we walk into the theater. “That was fun, to say no for a change. They can wait. I’ve got the evening off.”

  “I’ve never been in that kind of situation before,” I say thoughtfully as I look around. “Maybe we should take our seats.”

  “I’d like to wait for my friends, if you don’t mind. I haven’t seen the guys in a few days.”

  “OK. Then I’ll get something to drink for us.”

  “Champagne, sir, madam?” a waiter asks. It’s never been this posh at Macey’s premieres before. Maybe it’s because the musical is a worldwide hit. I take one of the glasses of orange juice, which outnumber the champagne flutes on the tray, and look at Gavin expectantly.

  He reaches for champagne. “Thank you,” he says to the waiter, who leaves with a smile on his face. “So . . . cheers, Madeleine.”

  “Cheers,” I say and clink my glass against his.

  “Gavin, you old sausage dick!” someone calls, and I look around with annoyance.

  “That’s Azer,” Gavin says. He nods at him, and then looks back at me. “Azer is the comedian of the band. He gave us all idiotic nicknames.”

  “Oh . . . sure,” I stammer, feeling a little overwhelmed.

  The two of them greet each other with a complicated-looking handshake. “Who’s the hot dish with you?” Azer asks.

  My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. I really hope I misheard that. I clear my throat. “Hi, my name is Madeleine.” I offer him my hand, and he takes it and pulls me into a hug. I let my arms hang uncertainly.

  “Hey, why so shy?”

  “Um . . . could you please let go?” I gasp, because he’s holding me so tightly and his hands are too low on my back.

  “That’s enough, Azer,” Gavin says with a strict tone in his voice. His friend lets me go.

  “Calm down, I was just being friendly,” he says with amusement, defending himself.

  “There you are! We just saw you walk past quickly, and then saw you run inside just as fast,” a guy says. “Hello,” he says to me. “My name is Linden Priest, and the dazzling vision of loveliness by my side is Thalia Leroux, my girlfriend.”

  “I’m pleased to meet both of you,” I reply warmly.

  Both of them smile at me. “And who are you?” Thalia asks.

  “Madeleine Dubois, but please call me Lane.” I look at Gavin. “You should, too. I like it better than Madeleine.”

  “By the way, I’m Alexis Kingston, and this is Mike Johnson,” another good-looking guy says, introducing himself and his friend.

  “Nice to meet you.” I smile, but their curious glances make me feel a little insecure.

  “You don’t have to look at her so expectantly. She may know a few of our songs, but not us. She’s not a groupie,” Gavin says to his friends with amusement.

  “Actually, we’re waiting for you to tell us where you met Madeleine . . . Sorry, I mean Lane,” Alexis says with a smirk.

  “She’s a colleague of my dance partner, and she invited me here. We clicked as soon as we met,” Gavin says.

  They nod and look at me again, so I stammer, “Uh . . . I’ll go sit down now.” Then I give Gavin his ticket and hurry off. It was just too uncomfortable for me to stand there any longer. It’s not so bad to dance in front of an audience—then I work hard to get everybody to look at me. But with someone who’s standing right in front of me checking me out, it’s really torture.

  When I look at the tickets, I realize that we have box seats, in a small, exclusive box with space for two only. “Damn,” I mutter, and make my way to the stairs. I pull the scarf tightly around me so my back remains covered.

  “Good evening, ma’am,” an usher greets me. He must be responsible for the boxes.

  “Good evening,” I reply, passing him my ticket.

  “This way, please.” He turns and walks ahead, and I follow him like a terrier. This is not how I imagined the evening turning out. Gavin will probably want to stay with his friends until the show starts, so I can forget about us getting to know each other better, like he suggested before.

  “Here you are, ma’am,” the usher says, opening the gate of the box for me.

  “Thanks,” I answer and sit down in the left-hand chair. I have a perfect view of the stage, which makes me happy. The last time I went to an opening night of Macey’s, I was with Brooke; we had to sit in the parterre, and I couldn’t see anything because a tall man sat right in front of me.

  I take my cell phone out of my bag and set it to silent. It’s happened to me before that it rang in the middle of a performance, and other members of the audience shot annoyed looks at me. Since then, I’ve been very careful that it’s either set to silent or completely switched off.

  Gavin arrives in the box just a few minutes before the show begins and sits down next to me. “Sorry, I had to sort something out.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “What do you think?”

  “Well, yeah, your friends really seemed to be curious and may come to the wrong conclusion about you and me . . . ,” I say.

  “Exactly. Sorry Azer was such a pain in the ass.”

  “What do you mean?” Then I remember. “Oh, that . . . It wasn’t so bad, I just thought it was because he’s that type of guy. At least, I hope that’s why.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean, but if you weren’t upset, I’m glad. He’s kind of . . . unusual.”

  “Well, so am I, so I’ll probably get along fine with him if I see him again.” I giggle a little.

  “Probably,” he says, and looks down at the stage, where I realize the show is about to start. />
  The show is introduced, a prologue is read out loud, and then the premiere begins. I watch excitedly as Macey gives the part of Belle her own personal touch. Her colleague who plays the beast and the prince is also wonderful to watch.

  The show ends, and the cast comes back on stage for a bow. I give my best friend a standing ovation. Gavin follows suit, and then the whole audience begins to stand. I whistle through my fingers, and Macey looks up at me and smiles. As I predicted, she did a wonderful job as Belle.

  Afterward, we stand in the foyer waiting for her, and a few moments later she appears, still in her costume. “How’d you like it?”

  I smile widely. “That was fantastic! You really rocked the stage.” Then I give her a hug.

  “Lane had tears in her eyes,” Gavin tells her. “And I loved it, too. You have an excellent voice.”

  She looks at him with her eyes wide, and blushes so much you can see it through her stage makeup. “Uh . . . Wow . . . Thanks . . .”

  I shake my head. “Gavin, this is Macey, my best friend, and a huge fan of Downstair Alley. Macey, meet Gavin.”

  “Happy to meet you, Macey,” Gavin says with a smile.

  “Me, too, Gavin.” They shake hands and immediately dive into a conversation about singing and breathing techniques. I listen with interest, but don’t really feel like a part of the discussion, so I look around to see who else is here. “I’ll be right back,” I tell them when I see Jake and Rick.

  “Sure,” Macey says, still concentrating on the conversation.

  I go over to my boss and one of my colleagues. “Hey, how’d you like it?”

  “Madeleine, I mean, Lane . . . I thought it was great! Macey’s voice knocked my socks off,” Jake says.

  “I’m so amazed, I don’t know what to say.” I grin. “Hi, Rick.”

  “Hey, Lane.”

  “What did you think, Rick?”

  “I’m not a fan of fairy tales,” Rick says, “but Macey did an incredible job. Now I finally understand why everyone likes the Disney film,” he says with a laugh.

  I agree with him. “And do you know what the moral of the story is?”

  “Guys should be hairy?” he asks, annoyed.

  I poke his upper arm. “No, that true beauty comes from within.” I laugh, and when the waiter comes by with his tray again, I take a glass of champagne.

  “Where’s Macey, by the way?” Jake asks.

  “She’s chatting with my date.”

  “You mean she’s flirting with Gavin?” Rick guesses.

  “Probably, but that’s not so tragic,” I respond, and hope I don’t sound as jealous as I feel at the moment. If the two of them are into each other, I’m screwed, because Macey is more than pretty. She’s a true Belle, inside and out.

  “You aren’t jealous, are you, Lane?” Jake whispers in my ear, so Rick doesn’t hear.

  I bite my lower lip, and then shake my head. “I’m just a little pissed off because the two of them ignored me completely when they started to find each other so fascinating.”

  “Ah.”

  I drink my champagne and listen to Jake and Rick talking about the dance school. I comment on their conversation every now and then, but I keep looking over at Macey and Gavin and his friends, who seem to have joined them. He glances over at me, but I shyly look away. This guy makes me totally dizzy. When I’m close to him I don’t know which way is up, but close to him is exactly where I want to be. On top of him, next to him, under him . . . Stop being ruled by your libido, I say to myself.

  “What do you think? Shall we all get changed and go dancing?” Rick asks.

  “Count me in,” Jake answers and looks at me expectantly.

  “I can’t just skip out on Macey.”

  “Macey’s busy batting her eyelashes at Downstair Alley. Linden Priest’s girlfriend doesn’t look exactly thrilled about it, either, if you ask me,” Rick says, offering his opinion.

  “How did you know she’s his . . . Forget it. Clearly, you read gossip magazines, too,” I say and look over at her. I wave at her, and then she whispers something to Linden and comes over to us.

  “Hi, I’m Thally,” she says, introducing herself to my friends.

  “We know,” Rick admits, and shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too.” Then she introduces herself to Jake, and they exchange pleasantries. She glances back over at Linden, Gavin, and the others.

  “The star of the show seems to be a real groupie.”

  “She’s my best friend, too,” I say with a sigh.

  “Oh, sorry, no insult intended.”

  I take a good look at Thalia. Her black hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders. She’s wearing a dress that has thin pink spaghetti straps and also descends in soft waves to her knees. “We were going to get changed and then go dancing. Would you like to come with us?”

  “Definitely. That would be much more fun than staying here and being at the mercy of the paparazzi.” She smiles. “I’ll tell Linden.” She turns around to look over at the group again, and raises an eyebrow as she sees Macey practically throwing herself at him. “Hmm. I’ll just send him a text. He’ll have to come find me anyway; I have the key to our hotel room.”

  I laugh softly. “Do you want to come over to my place for a few minutes before we have to be . . . where?” I say, looking over at Jake.

  “At the Delano. The cave,” he answers.

  “Super, then we can meet there in an hour.”

  “Good.” They both nod. Thally and I walk past Downstair Alley and Macey, and to my relief, they don’t notice us.

  “Isn’t my dress too fancy for that?” she asks me.

  “No, it’s just right,” I say happily. I’m so glad to be going out dancing again.

  When Thally and I are at my apartment, she helps me choose an outfit. “What do you think of this one?” she asks me after examining the contents of my closet. She’s holding out a black pleated skirt and a tight red crop top.

  “I think the top would look better if I wore my red miniskirt with it.”

  We dig through my closet together. “This one?” she says, pulling out precisely the skirt I had in mind.

  “Exactly.” I take it from her. “With my red heels, it will be perfect.”

  “It would really be perfect if you wore your hair down. That should get the guys lining up.” She smiles.

  “Do you think so?”

  “I’m totally certain.”

  “OK.” I change at top speed, and free my hair from the barrette. It falls heavily over my shoulders, so I grab a brush from my dresser and give it a few strokes.

  “How’s that?”

  “Great. How about a little more makeup?”

  I’m not wearing much makeup, because I don’t like to look like I’m trying too hard, so I shake my head. “I’m fine like this.”

  “Sure, you look good anyway. I just thought a little more lipstick or lip gloss wouldn’t hurt,” she suggests. “Can I ask you something?” Thally says.

  I nod. “Sure.”

  “Have you got something going with Gavin? The guys have been trying to figure it out all evening. I hardly heard your friend singing, they were whispering so much.”

  I laugh. “No. There’s nothing going on. He’s dancing with a colleague of mine in the show, and he practices at the dance school where I work. We met, got along well, and now he’s taking my salsa class. I invited him this evening because I like him, but he only seems to have eyes for Macey.”

  “Actually, I thought he only had eyes for you, because he kept looking over at you, wishing you’d join us,” she says.

  So that’s why I felt like I was being watched. “Then why didn’t he notice that you and I slipped out?” I grin at her impishly.

  “Probably because he was too busy looking in the other direction so the guys wouldn’t notice,” Thally says with a laugh.

  I like her! She’s so nice and direct, and I really appreciate that in a person. “Maybe we c
ould play a little hide-and-seek with him. I assume Linden’s going to call and ask where you are.”

  “Could be, but he hasn’t tried yet.”

  “Is your cell phone set on silent?” I ask.

  She digs through her bag. “Oh, fuck . . . Sorry. Yes, it is, but I’m turning it on now.” I hear a familiar ping as she flips the switch. I recognize the sound; I have exactly the same model. “Oh, he tried to call twice. I’ll text him to let him know where we are when we get to the Delano. I’ll let him sweat a bit since he ignored me.” She grins diabolically, and I burst out laughing.

  “All right, let’s go. I called a taxi ten minutes ago, it should be here any—” The sound of the doorbell interrupts me. “It’s here.” I grab a jacket and slip into it. “Can you dance?”

  “I can manage a few standards.”

  “Great. The Delano always has theme nights. It’s tango and salsa tonight, because it’s Friday.”

  “I can do the salsa. The basic steps, anyway. I’ll just skip the tango.”

  I grab my handbag, and we leave the apartment in a great mood and head down the stairs and out to the sidewalk. We get in the taxi, and I give the driver the address of the cave. It’s not really a cave or an underground club, it’s just a nickname. The neon sign has been broken for years, and it’s still hanging there, but you can’t even read it. I just know it as the cave and can’t get used to calling it anything else.

  Chapter 4

  “Is it always so crowded here?” Thalia shouts over the music.

  “Yeah, people want to dance, but it usually thins out a little after midnight. Then they go to other clubs,” I answer.

  We stand at the bar while Jake and Rick are dancing with some other girls. Thalia and I want to have a drink before we start getting sociable. I’m holding a vod-bomb, vodka mixed with energy drink, but it’s not a particularly explosive mixture—the barkeep here knows me. It’s just a pinky’s width of vodka, and the rest is filled up with Red Bull and ice. Definitely not dangerous. I didn’t want to drink any alcohol tonight at all, but now I’m feeling kind of frustrated that the evening with Gavin didn’t work out as I’d imagined. Actually, I hadn’t even planned to spend a lot of time with him, but I didn’t think Macey would turn on me like that. My best friend stole the show. I certainly don’t believe he only had eyes for me!