Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1)

by Taylor, Drucie Anne

  “I hope so, but that depends on my dance partner’s fans, too.” It’s typical that I think of Gavin again. Based on the jury’s points, he would be somewhere in the middle of the field, but both times he was immediately voted into the next round. It’s actually very good for him, but it will be that much more difficult to dance with any of the other candidates and win. Collum Dougal—a TV host who’s also a candidate—isn’t a fantastic dancer, but he had no trouble getting into the next round, either.

  Wayne Peters, a struggling actor who’s had parts in various soap operas, had more difficulties. Only two female celebrities had to leave: a beauty contest winner from a couple of years ago whose name I can’t remember, and an aging singer who can hardly smile because her face is so full of Botox.

  “You have fans, too, Madeleine. Get your friends to call in for you. You know that we certainly will.”

  “I’ll ask them if they’ll do it. But first, I hope the candidate I have to dance with won’t send me to the hospital like his last partner,” I joke.

  “Let’s hope he doesn’t throw you across the studio.” My dad laughs and leans back in his chair.

  I grin as he shakes with laughter. “I should check if Mrs. Greene already sent me the information.”

  “You have time for that after we eat, Madeleine.”

  He’s right. “OK, then I’ll stay here . . . By the way, will you and Mom be staying the weekend in the city, or will you drive back on Saturday night after the show?”

  “I think we’ll be driving home on Saturday. Shall we take you with us?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I was hoping.” I laugh softly. “It would be great if I could ride with you.”

  “I think we’ll take two cars, then. You know how impatient your mother can be, she doesn’t like to wait around.”

  I nod. The next moment, the doorbell rings and I hurry to the door. “Hi,” I say to the pizza guy.

  “Hi, Lane. Here’s your order,” says Gus. I’ve known him since high school.

  “Super.” I smile and take my pizza and Dad’s salad. “Dad, the food’s here!”

  “I’m coming!” he answers.

  I turn back to Gus. “How are you doing?”

  He smiles widely, showing me a row of perfect white teeth. “Really well. And you, Lane?”

  “I can’t complain.”

  “What brings you here, anyway? I thought you were in the city, dancing in that show.”

  “I am, but during the week I’m staying with my parents, because New York is pretty hot right now. And a little depressing.”

  “The big city is depressing? For you? I find that hard to believe.”

  “It’s true, though.”

  “Hi, Gus,” my father says as he appears in the door next to me. He hands Gus thirty dollars and takes the food from me.

  “I’ll get your change, Mr. Dubois,” Gus says.

  “No, it’s fine like that.” Dad smiles and goes back to the living room.

  Gus looks at me curiously, and I shrug. “My dad seems to feel generous today.”

  “Tell him thanks from me, Lane.”

  “Sure thing . . . Have a nice evening, Gus.”

  “Bye. It was really nice to see you again.”

  “Bye.” I smile and close the door.

  When I come into the living room, Dad is sitting on the floor, fishing the tomatoes out of his salad. “Gus was really flirting with you.”

  “Was he?” I ask, surprised. I sit down across from him, and pull my pizza over and open the box.

  “He was looking at you like he was very interested,” Dad says teasingly.

  “He can be interested if he wants, but I’m not, and that’s not changing anytime soon,” I counter.

  “Still because of Jonah?”

  I sigh. “A little, but mostly because I just want to be single for a while.”

  “So, my daughter wants to experiment,” he says, needling me.

  I laugh. “No, your daughter just isn’t interested in guys right now who don’t take relationships seriously, anyway.”

  “Touché,” he says.

  We fall into a comfortable silence as we eat. I’m happy my dad and I are so close. I’m closer to him than I am to my mother. Mom and I tend to quarrel about meaningless things, which takes too much energy and is totally unnecessary. But that happens when two people both have a lot of temperament.

  “No, no, no! This can’t be true!” I moan, covering my face with my hands. The e-mail I was waiting for arrived, and it turns out my partner is none other than Gavin McLeod. That’s the worst thing that could have happened. Tomorrow I’m supposed to go see him, which isn’t really a problem, because he doesn’t live very far away, but it still feels like a slap in the face. I would really prefer to cancel, but I really need the money. So I’ll just have to bite the sour apple.

  For the last hour, I’ve been trying to decide if it wouldn’t simply be easier just to jump out the window. Gavin and I are supposed to dance together? This is going to be a catastrophe. Maybe he’s already forgotten what happened between us, but I definitely haven’t.

  After I print out the information I need, I close my laptop with a resigned sigh and go into the bathroom. A cold shower will probably calm me down. Or even better, a cold bath. In any case, I need a shower because I practiced after we ate. When I was a kid, my dad converted the cellar into a little dance studio for me so I could practice there. I still enjoy using the room, because I can relax better there than anywhere else. OK, on the roof of the building where Macey and I live, it’s also very relaxing. From there, there’s a great view of the stars, which is why I often sneak up to the roof at night. No one but me goes up there, and no one but me knows that I like to hang out up there.

  I undress and step under the shower. I turn the water to hot, against my initial intentions, to relax my tense muscles. I let the water flow over my head and try to banish Gavin from my thoughts. It’s enough that I’ll have to see him tomorrow, and from then on every day. I want to win this damn show—I really need the prize money. Gavin will get most of it to donate to charity, but a place in the next season’s shows would be guaranteed to me. Besides, I’d be getting a nice financial bonus, too.

  I step out of the shower, dry myself off quickly, and slip into my nightshirt. Then I flip through the stack of papers I printed out earlier and find the contract. I sign it right away so I just have to bring it to the post office tomorrow morning.

  “You stupid piece of junk!” I shout at Tiffy as she gives up the ghost right before I reach Gavin’s house. I pop the hood and get out and try to see what’s broken, but I have no clue about cars. I’ll never buy a Ford again, that’s for sure. White smoke is rising from the engine. Unfortunately, I canceled my AAA membership a couple of months ago because I couldn’t afford it anymore. I kick the bumper. “You idiotic vehicle!”

  A car stops and parks in front of me. “Madeleine?” someone says, and I turn around. It’s Linden Priest.

  “Hey,” I say in greeting. Then I turn back to my smoking Ford.

  “Breakdown?” he asks, and comes to my side, peering under the hood.

  “Yeah . . . I was just on my way to see Gavin, because I’m Julie’s stand-in, and Tiffy took her last gasp.”

  “Shall I have a look?”

  “Sure, but I doubt she’s fixable.”

  “Did you call AAA yet?”

  “I canceled my membership, so no, I didn’t.”

  Linden eyes the engine. “Did you check the radiator fluid?”

  “No, could that be what’s wrong?”

  “No clue, but I can have a look.” He bends down to look more closely and then straightens up again. “It has to go to the garage. The radiator fluid doesn’t seem to be the problem, but maybe it’s the water pump, or maybe there’s a leaky hose.” He gestures to his car. “I’ll take you with me and send one of the security guys to see that your car is towed to the next garage.”

  “That would be really nice of you.
Let me get my bag.”

  “Sure, I’ll wait in the car.”

  I grab my handbag and duffle out of the car and lock it. Then I sigh and get in Linden’s car.

  He starts the engine immediately. “Be glad this didn’t happen to you on some deserted road.”

  “Somehow I would prefer that,” I say, considering. It would be less embarrassing, anyway.

  “Believe me, you wouldn’t like it. I once woke up in a ditch in the middle of nowhere, and I have no idea how it happened. To this day, I have no memory of how I got there,” he explains. “The only positive thing that came out of it was that I got to know Thalia that evening.”

  “You really don’t know what happened?”

  “No. The doctors at the hospital thought the memory loss was due to dehydration at first, but apparently it had something to do with a traumatic experience. My subconscious had to have its reasons to bury the memory so deep.”

  “That could be true.”

  “Another problem was that I was engaged at the time.”

  “But you didn’t betray your fiancée with Thalia, did you?”

  “No . . . It hadn’t been going so well with Trish anymore anyway, and I think we were both looking for a reason to end it,” he replies. “At least, it was she who left me, after we met Thally on the boardwalk in Miami. According to Trish, I looked at her like it was love at first sight.”

  “That’s a pretty dumb reason to break up, if you ask me. ‘Oh, you looked at another woman . . . I’m going to leave you and break off our engagement,’” I say in a squeaky Barbie voice.

  “That’s about how it happened, but it’s probably good that way, because then I was free for Thally, and I definitely didn’t want to lose her,” Linden says with a grin as he turns into a private driveway.

  “But she’s not from here, is she?”

  “No, she lives and studies in Miami, but originally she’s from Texas.”

  “How do you manage to keep it together? I mean, you’re surely on the road a lot and don’t have much time, do you?” I ask.

  “We see each other at least once a month for a weekend. Either I fly to her, she comes here, or she visits me wherever the band goes. But fortunately I’m on vacation right now, and I don’t have a lot to do, because Gavin is on Celebrity Dance Hall,” he says cheerfully.

  “Is she here now?”

  “She’ll come again this weekend, and stay for two weeks. Then we’ll have a week apart, and then I’ll fly to Miami to meet her again.”

  “I wouldn’t mind going to Miami sometime.”

  “Then join us,” he offers as he parks in front of an intimidatingly huge villa.

  “Unfortunately I don’t have time, but thanks anyway.”

  We get out of the car, and Linden heads for the house. “Come on, I’m sure Gavin is already wondering where you are.”

  I put my bag on my shoulder and follow him. The house is built of red brick, and the grand-looking front stairs are flanked on either side by stone lions on raised plinths. A bit stuffy looking—and not typical for the Hamptons—but I only have to come here to practice, so I don’t mind so much.

  “Stop! Miss Dubois, I’d like to film your arrival!” calls Felix, the guy who’s responsible for filming the backstories for Celebrity Dance Hall.

  I turn around to face him. “Have you been waiting here all morning?”

  “We didn’t know when you’d be coming, so Mrs. Greene told us to be here as early as possible,” he answers breathlessly. “Where’s your car?”

  “Half a mile down the road, because it broke down,” I explain. “Linden was so kind as to give me a ride.”

  “By the way, I’ll organize a tow truck now, Lane . . . Felix knows where the practice room is,” Linden says.

  “Thanks.” I look at Felix. “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “We’ll follow you with the camera when you go to find Gavin, film your meeting, and then we’ll be done.”

  “Then let’s go,” I say with a sigh.

  The film team makes me up, even though I’m already wearing some, and then Felix leads me through the house.

  “Are you excited, Madeleine?” he asks suddenly.

  “Of course. How often do you get a chance to meet the famous Gavin McLeod?” I answer with the lines I practiced for the role.

  “Probably not very often. Are you happy that you get to dance with him, after Julie’s terrible accident?” he wants to know.

  “I’m happy I can fill in, but I’m not happy about Julie’s injury. I hope she’ll be better soon,” I answer honestly. I really can’t stand Julie, but I never would have wished injury on her.

  “You know that you and Gavin really have to shine with the rumba, don’t you? How do you think it will be to practice with him?”

  “I imagine it will be a lot of work, but Gavin will surely be a good dancer, because he has to learn choreography for his shows, anyway.”

  We come to a door, and Felix stops. He gives me a sign, and I knock.

  “Come in!” I hear Gavin call.

  I take a deep breath and turn the doorknob. I suddenly hope he already knows who he’ll be dancing with. “Hi, Gavin. I’m Madeleine Dubois, your new dance partner.”

  He looks at me as though someone had just smacked him in the head at light speed. “Hi . . . Nice to meet you,” he stammers as he comes toward me.

  I drink in the sight of him. He’s wearing a black muscle shirt and white sweatpants. Both fit perfectly and show off his toned body. “I’m glad to meet you, too. I’m taking Julie’s place so you don’t have to leave the show,” I explain. I’m still speaking the rehearsed lines that I was given before I entered the house.

  “Thanks for agreeing to do that,” he says.

  “Cut!” Felix calls, and I sigh with relief.

  Gavin comes toward me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was asked to replace an injured dancer in the show. If I’d known it was Julie, I wouldn’t be here, believe me,” I answer softly, so the camera team can’t hear me.

  “Super.” His disappointed expression speaks volumes. My hope that he forgot what happened in his suite evaporates.

  “Believe me, I’m not very happy about it, either, but I need the money, and I don’t want to break my contract,” I tell him. “We only have to see each other to practice, and during the show.”

  Gavin nods, but the dark look he gives me shows that he’s not happy about the situation. “OK.”

  I clear my throat as Felix comes closer. “Where can I change?”

  He shows me a door. “There’s a bathroom back there.”

  “Thanks,” I say with a shy smile, before I escape for a moment. “What a fiasco,” I whisper to myself as I put on my practice clothes. It’s the same outfit I wear for teaching, a top, a pleated miniskirt, and leggings. All in black. At least that looks good on camera. When I enter the room again, Gavin is talking to Felix. I stand next to the cameraman and listen carefully to what they’re saying, because it’s about the next scene.

  “OK, now you have to dance together. It’s enough if you let Miss Dubois show you the basic steps of the rumba. Maybe a few outtakes, and then we’ve got it,” Felix says.

  “Why should I pretend I don’t know what I’m doing, when I already know the basic step?” Gavin asks.

  “Little mistakes are an advantage for the candidates, it makes them seem more human and gives people a better connection to them.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “We’ll see what we can do,” I say.

  Gavin looks at me expectantly, and I wonder what’s going on in his mind. “Shall we begin, Madeleine?”

  You know very well how much I hate to be called Madeleine, and now you’re surely doing it to annoy me, I think uncharitably. “Of course, Gavin.”

  He holds out his hand to me, and I take it. “So, we’re doing the rumba. Can you show me the basic step?”

  “They’re rocking steps. You start with the left foot forward, I go backward w
ith the right, and then you rock back onto your right foot. After that there’s a side-step for two measures that you lead with the left foot. Does that make sense so far?”

  “Yes,” he says.

  “The camera is rolling,” Felix reminds him.

  “Your arm should be higher,” I tell Gavin and lift mine, so our arms touch. “All right, let’s go.”

  He takes the first step forward, and I go back, then he goes back on his right foot. Then we sidestep, and I slide forward a little.

  “You need to hold yourself with more tension,” I say as we repeat the basic steps a few times. And then it happens. He steps on my foot so hard that I suck in my breath and my eyes go wide. “Holy sh—” Fortunately I pull myself together the next second.

  “Sorry,” he murmurs.

  I shake out my foot, which is in a black high-heeled sandal. “That’s OK. Shall we try again?” Bastard.

  “Please.”

  We repeat the basic step. “Almost perfect. Just use your hips a little more,” I lecture, being careful to give Gavin a smile at the same time.

  “How about the spin?” he asks.

  “Are you ready?”

  He nods determinedly. “Sure thing.”

  “As soon as I go into the spin, you stretch out your hand, because you’re leading.”

  We go through the sequence four times, until Gavin stretches out his arm, but he spins me way too fast, and I stumble and fall against him. “Oof . . . Oh, jeez!”

  “I guess that was fast enough,” he jokes, and I giggle.

  “Cut! That’s all we need. We’ll come again on Thursday to interview you both so we have enough for the introduction clip,” Felix says.

  I separate myself from Gavin immediately. “Thanks, Felix.”

  “My pleasure,” he answers.

  I go toward him with my hand stretched out. “See you.”

  He smiles and shakes my hand. “Then I’ll see you two on Thursday.” He and his team pack up and leave.

  When the door finally closes, Gavin turns to face me and takes my hand. “Why didn’t you cancel when you found out?”