“Except everyone doesn’t quite seem happy,” Riley said.
“Meaning?”
“Well you don’t seem pleased, is all.”
“Oh, I’m only delighted. I’m just one of those that believe in focusing on the music.”
“Okay, Conor, tell me about the music. Tell me about the writing process.”
Conor took a deep breath and was happy to launch into a heated description of how the band worked together to create their music. Gavin joined in and the two inadvertently demonstrated the fluid way they played off of each other. Riley learned that their childhood bond had developed over the years into an indispensable music partnership.
Gavin was so involved in the conversation that he was startled when his cell phone rang.
“Really, Gav?” Conor said with frustration. “You should have switched it off.”
“I’ll do it now,” Gavin said. But when he took the phone out of his pocket he saw that it was Sophie calling, no one in the room, least of all Riley, could mistake the change that came over him. His posture straightened, his shoulders pulled back, and an excited gleam came to his eyes as a broad smile lit up his face.
“It’s Sophie,” Gavin said. “Just—”
“Don’t you even think about it,” Conor said. “We’re in the middle of a fucking interview.”
Riley watched Gavin struggle for a moment over whether he should listen to his friend and bandmate. He got the sense that it was unusual for Gavin to question Conor’s directives.
“I’ll be just a second,” Gavin said and got up.
Conor seethed as he watched Gavin walk out onto the balcony. He could just imagine the impression Riley had now and the article that would be written. It would be all about the whipped singer of the up and coming Irish band that could have made it big time, if only their Yoko hadn’t taken over.
“So, Conor,” Riley said, “do you get along with Sophie?”
It wasn’t easy, but Conor thought he did a good job of hiding his temper over the question.
“Sure. She’s grand. Listen, I have to excuse myself for a minute.” He nodded at the reporter and headed to the bathroom.
“Sorry about that,” Gavin said as he returned.
“Anything wrong?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. Thanks.”
“So, Sophie lives in Los Angeles. You live in Dublin. How does that work?”
“We’ll figure it out. It’ll work.”
“How?”
“Love conquers all, doesn’t it?” Gavin said with a wink.
As Conor returned, James suggested they end the interview so the band had could get ready to go to the Craig Kilborn taping.
Riley shook hands with Gavin and Conor and then pulled James aside. “Listen, I can turn this article into an in-depth piece if you let me come along tonight. I’d love to meet Sophie.” The reporter hadn’t planned on a heavy focus on the love story until Gavin himself had gone from calling Sophie his “very special friend” to saying “love conquers all.” There was more to the couple than he had seen so far and his gut told him to pursue it.
“Cover story?” James asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Have your editor guarantee it and it’s a go,” James said without hesitation.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Gavin asked.
He was blindly following Sophie up a dirt trail in the Hollywood Hills. They had caught the last remnants of a warm orange sunset and were rapidly losing light as night came on. The buzz he had from the sake at their sushi dinner was beginning to wear off as he heard creatures scurry in the brush.
After the taping of the Craig Kilborn show, Sophie had insisted on taking everyone—including John Riley—to the acclaimed Japanese restaurant Matsuhisa in Beverly Hills for an early dinner. It was the first time any of the Irishmen had tried sushi and with the exception of Martin, they enjoyed the exotic offerings. The sake had been especially well received and served to make for a round of lively conversation as the group forgot about the reporter’s presence and reminisced about the “old days” with Sophie.
They had all playfully teased Sophie when she nonchalantly used a black American Express card to pay for the meal, even though she explained that the bills went straight to her parents. For reasons he couldn’t quite understand, Gavin was uneasy at this nonchalant display of wealth, but he took pains to dismiss it.
After settling the check, Gavin was willingly taken away by Sophie, even as the boys responded with good natured whistles and knowing grins. He was happy to see the easy familiarity she had regained within the group, though he suspected it came in part from the fact that Sophie was once again only a temporary player. Just as when they were in school together, the underlying understanding that she wouldn’t always be there lent a confessional nature to their interactions. They could safely share of themselves without worrying that it would somehow come back to haunt them.
Gavin had been too busy talking, hyped up from the band’s television performance and the dinner, to take note of where Sophie was driving them in her sporty white BMW 325i. She wound around the narrow, densely populated streets up into the hill until pulling in front of an upscale home toward the end of Beachwood Drive.
“What’s this? Don’t you live at the beach?” he asked, as the street name contradicted the fact that the ocean wasn’t anywhere in view.
“This isn’t my house, silly. We’re going on an adventure. Come with me,” she said and pulled a backpack out of the backseat.
Now he was following her past the hum of electrical equipment caged along with a red and white radio tower, her flashlight bobbing along the path.
“We’re almost there,” she told him.
The wind picked up as they reached the peak but it was a warm evening. She had promised him the trek would be worth it, and he had seen glimpses of city lights beginning to burn bright in the deepening darkness that confirmed this. As they went, she told him about her classes at USC and the fact that she had taken her last final the same day as calling into the radio station. The summer break was upon her and the only plans she had were to possibly travel with her parents. He had been about to interrupt her careful talk about the future when she stopped walking.
“You go first,” she told him and pointed with the flashlight up a steep dirt hill.
Now he knew why she had changed out of her strappy sandals and into running shoes at the car. His own lace-up boots were covered in dirt and he had had several near-misses with horse manure.
“Come with me, then,” he said and pulled her hand.
As he came to the top of the trail, he was astounded by the view. They were directly above the huge white letters of the iconic Hollywood sign, with the entire city spread out and lit up before them. The downtown buildings to the left stood tall amongst the sprawl. To their right, a reservoir glittered under the moonlight. He tried in vain to see where the lights ended, and the enormity and beauty of the golden glow brought a smile to his face.
Sophie put her arm around his waist and leaned into him as he held her in return.
“What do you think?”
“It’s brilliant,” he murmured.
It was hard to wrap his head around the view. They were alone, with only the sound of crickets and the odd rustling of small animals. The warm air smelled of the pleasantly pungent combination of earthy shrubs and cooling dirt. It was peaceful and invigorating at the same time. He couldn’t imagine a better way to see Los Angeles.
“I’ve never been here at night,” she said. “I’m pretty sure we’re trespassing. But I wanted to do something memorable for one of your last nights.”
He turned to her and kissed her, long and softly. The ache in his chest soon spread throughout his whole body as he held her to him. The effort she had made was not lost on him. It reinforced what he had believed back from their time together before, that she was an extraordinary girl, unlike any he would ever find again. The fact
that she had planned out this adventure, as she called it, to create a unique memory for them to share was all he needed to confirm what he had felt the moment he saw her at his hotel room doorstep. She was the one.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said in a whisper.
He knew without looking that there were tears in her eyes. She was feeling the same thing he was of not wanting to say goodbye.
Pulling away, he took her face into his hands and made eye contact. “I never loved a girl before you, and I haven’t loved anyone since. I still love you something desperate. There’s no way I want this to be one of our last nights.”
She nodded and blinked away the tears.
“You didn’t take me seriously the first time. Take me seriously now.” He took a deep breath. “Marry me. I want you to marry me.”
He couldn’t read her in the thirty seconds of silence that followed as her eyes left his and focused beyond his shoulder. The sensation of sinking was either his heart or his suddenly unstable knees.
“Gavin—”
Before she could refuse him, he pressed his lips to hers once more. He closed his eyes tightly, not sure whether he wanted her to feel the disappointment in his kiss or not.
“Baby,” she said as she pulled away.
“Darlin’, I’m not able to hear you say no or laugh it off. So, don’t say anything, okay? We’ll just enjoy the view.” He turned back to gaze upon the lights.
“But the answer is yes,” she said.
He was slow to understand and turned to her with a look he knew expressed his disbelief. “For definite?” he asked.
She nodded and smiled, tears once again filling her eyes.
Their next kiss was filled with a mixture of giddiness and awe at the audacity of what they had done.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was the distinctly noticeable noise one makes when they are trying to be quiet that woke Sophie the next morning. Gavin was dressing while on his cell phone as he looked out the hotel window, his voice hushed but insistent.
Staying as still as she could, Sophie wondered if this meant he had taken to heart the out she tried to give him before they fell asleep. After returning to the Chateau Marmont, Gavin had ordered champagne through room service. It once again surprised Sophie that they hadn’t had any difficulty being served alcohol. They had enjoyed the entire bottle together in celebration of their engagement.
But as they lay together on the verge of sleep, Sophie’s more prudent nature finally came to the forefront. She knew that agreeing to marry Gavin was reckless. She would be twenty in July, but that didn’t mean she was ready for marriage. Marriage to a rock star, no less. Her more fantastical side wanted to dive deep into the sheer romance and nostalgia of the evening they had shared overlooking the city lights. But she also feared that he had been giving into that good feeling, too, and that the practicalities of what he was proposing hadn’t been even remotely considered.
“Gavin,” she had said softly. Her head was nestled into the crook of his arm, her naked body pressed against his.
“Hmm?”
“I know that this—us—feels good. But it doesn’t have to be marriage. I mean, I’m not going to hold you to that. Everything has happened so fast. I understand if you want to just see how things go.”
Gavin shifted slightly but didn’t respond.
“Baby?”
“Let’s talk later, darlin’,” he said in a sleepy mumble.
Now he was busy making some sort of plan and she realized she had better get up. But doing so seemed like waking herself up from the best dream she had ever had, and so she stayed curled up in bed instead.
“Darlin’? Wake up for me,” Gavin said.
She reluctantly opened her eyes and saw him crouched down by the bed, watching her. His face was covered in stubble from the last few days, giving his usual disheveled appearance an even sexier edge.
“I need your help with something.” He held up a piece of paper with scribbled notes. “Will you drive me?”
~
Sophie was distracted as she followed Gavin’s directions, driving through West Hollywood and along Santa Monica Boulevard. As they neared Beverly Hills, palm trees began to line the streets neatly against the backdrop of the clear morning sky.
Meanwhile, Gavin toyed with the radio and when he heard “Last Night” followed by “All My Life,” and “Fell In Love With A Girl,” he regaled Sophie with his theory that they were experiencing a rich period in music with the likes of The Strokes, Foo Fighters, and The White Stripes, respectively, making their mark. “Clocks” by Coldplay came on and that sent Gavin off on a rant about how close Chris Martin was to being a good front man but that he was clearly lacking confidence. He declared “Toxicity” by A System Of A Down too heavy handed, but thought Chris Cornell’s efforts with Audioslave was one of the better transitions of a singer into a new band that he had seen.
As his commentary went on, her doubts about his commitment to her grew. He hadn’t mentioned their engagement once, and seemed more interested in this random errand he had to do than making the most of their last full day together.
“Here. Turn here,” he told her.
When she realized that he was taking her down Rodeo Drive, she rolled her eyes. When had he become the kind of person who wanted to do this kind of sightseeing?
“Park around here. Any spot is good.”
It was still early, not yet ten in the morning and only a handful of people were on the sidewalk. She found a vacant metered spot and pulled over.
“You know, nothing’s going to be open yet,” Sophie said as he took her hand and led her down the street.
“Guess what? Turns out my limited celebrity actually has some perks.”
“What does that mean?” She knew there was an edge of irritation in her voice that came off as petulance. The romance of last night had been an incredible high and now it was like crashing into banal reality.
“I was on the phone earlier, before you got up, with our business manager. She’s helping me sort this out.”
Sophie stopped walking, now completely confused. “What are you even talking about, Gavin?”
He laughed. “Listen, darlin’, I’m told this is the place to get what we need. And they’re willing to open up early for us.”
She looked at the gray stone building in front of them on this manicured street. The fact that it was Tiffany & Co. didn’t register. Had he really dragged her out here to get a gift for his business manager?
“I don’t—”
“We are here, sweet girl, to pick a ring.”
She took in a quick breath, feeling both thrilled and stupid. How had she managed to mangle this incredible gesture?
Gavin stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I heard what you said last night, Sophie,” he said. “And I know what you mean. I know how scary this all seems. You and I have spent years apart and it’s fair to worry that we don’t know each other anymore. The thing is, I have no doubt that I love you. I love you for what you were and I know I’ll love you for what you’ve become. I absolutely want to marry you. What do you say?”
Wiping at the tear escaping her eye, Sophie smiled. “You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”
Gavin laughed and kissed her. Pressing his forehead to hers, he whispered, “Will you marry me, Sophie?”
“Yes,” she whispered back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Gavin said as Sophie led him inside her family’s Malibu home.
A clear view of the ocean was visible through the entry hallway. The large sliding glass doors were open and the sheer curtains fluttered softly in the breeze. The sound of the waves crashing filled both his ears and his chest.
“You like?” Sophie said, smiling.
“It’s amazing,” he replied. He turned to admire the colorful modern abstract artwork on the walls. They were real pieces, not prints, and the first paintings he had ever seen in someon
e’s home. He had always known her parents were wealthy, but knowing and seeing was a different story. As he took in the warm, elegant front room with the plush living area to the right and pristine dining area to the left, he thought of how shocking Ireland must have been for Sophie. Not that his country had been in bad shape then. It had been on the cusp of the prosperous economic Celtic Tiger era, and none of the boys had come from impoverished or rough backgrounds. They’d grown up middle-class on the tame Southside of Dublin. The thing was, though, she had apparently come from a kind of wealth he hadn’t even come close to fathoming. She had never presented herself as “better than” despite his insecure jabs at her when they first met. Instead, he was the one to feel that he wasn’t worthy of her, always fearing in the back of his mind that he didn’t deserve someone so refined.
“Is that you, Sophie?” a female voice called.
“Yes, we’re here,” Sophie replied and pulled Gavin deeper into the house.
The hardwood floors carried through to the kitchen where they found an older, if less vibrant, version of Sophie.
“Mom, this is Gavin,” Sophie said. She couldn’t contain a big smile. “Baby, this is my Mom.”
“You can call me Maggie,” she said and offered her hand.
Gavin took her hand into both of his and shook it with warmth. “I’m so pleased to meet you,” he said, keeping eye contact.
Her eyes were also hazel, but didn’t quite have the spark Sophie’s did. Tall, with blond hair and high cheekbones, she was a natural beauty, but it was clear that her appearance wasn’t a priority. She was dressed casually in shapeless khakis and a cotton top, her hair pulled into a hasty ponytail. She had been working on a laptop set in a nook in the kitchen and her reading glasses were now hanging from her neck on a beaded chain.
“Well, it is certainly nice to meet you! After all this time of hearing your name, and now here you are!” Maggie said with a smile.
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