The First Crush Is the Deepest

by Nina Harrington

  Amber focused her gaze on the terrace. Bright flowering plants and conifers spilled out of colourful planters in front of a panoramic view across the London city skyline.

  ‘Yesterday I was feeling down in the dumps so I pulled out my favourite music scores. If I have a spare hour or two on tour I can usually visualise the performance in my head and it is the one thing that is always guaranteed to cheer me up and have me bouncing with excitement.’

  She paused and sighed low and slow. ‘But not this time. I didn’t feel a thing. There was nothing that made me want to tear off this plaster cast and play. Seriously. It’s as though all of my passion for the music has gone out of the window.’

  She paused and looked from Saskia to Kate and then back to Saskia again. ‘And that’s scary, girls. I don’t know how to do anything else.’

  The silence echoed between the three of them before Kate put her mug down on the metal mesh table with a dramatic thud.

  ‘Amber? Sweetie? It might have something to do with the fact that you have just spent months in hospital recovering from the infection you caught in India. And yes, I know that it is still our secret. We won’t tell anyone. But you have to give yourself time to recover and get your mojo back. Maybe even be kind to yourself and let your body heal, instead of running from place to place at top speed. How about that for a crazy idea?’

  Amber blew out long and slow. ‘You’re right. This is the first time in years that I have been in London long enough to take stock. I just feel that I am lost and drifting on my own. Again.’

  Saskia slid over to the end of Amber’s lounger and wrapped her fingers around her arm. ‘No, you’re not. You will always have a home at Elwood House. And don’t you dare forget that.’

  Amber smiled into the faces of her two best friends in the world. Friends who had somehow got pushed lower and lower on her priority list over the past few years, and yet they were the very people who had come running the first time she asked.

  ‘I don’t know what I did to deserve you two. Thanks. It means a lot. But I won’t put you out too much.’

  ‘Decision made, young lady,’ Saskia said in a jokey serious voice. ‘You are coming to stay with me at Elwood House as my birthday present, and you are going to be cosseted, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds good,’ Kate said, and snuggled back further onto the soft cushion of the patio lounger. ‘Can I come over and be cosseted in exchange for making curtains and cushions? I could use a good cosset.’

  ‘You and your needlework skills are welcome any time.’ Saskia laughed and gestured towards Amber with her head. ‘I’m going to need some help keeping this one from wearing herself out getting ready for her birthday party.’

  Amber dropped her head back and closed her eyes as bright warm sunshine broke through the light cloud cover. Then she turned back to face Saskia and Kate, who were looking at her. ‘It’s going to be like old times. The three of us, camped out at Elwood House. But at least this time I’m not running away from home to spite my mother by eloping with Sam Richards.’

  Saskia peered at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Ah, yes. Sam.’ She nodded. ‘Were you okay? With seeing him again? Because I still cannot believe that you went there on your own.’

  ‘Ah. So you think I would be safe from the evil clutches of the teenage boy who broke my heart and betrayed me with one of my best friends if I stayed here in my ivory tower penthouse like a fairy tale princess waiting to be rescued.’

  She laughed and said with a snort, ‘Not a chance, gorgeous. I refuse to be turned into some kind of recluse just because the press want to know why I decided to retire. Besides, I’ve been working with reporters like Sam Richards for years. He doesn’t bother me.’

  Kate shuffled to the edge of her seat, her bottom jiggling with excitement while Saskia just chuckled softly to herself. ‘Really?’

  Amber pushed out her famous moisture lipstick slicked lips. ‘Oh, yes. My musician friend Parvita runs a wonderful charity in India who could certainly use the fee, only...’ she sighed with a slight quiver in her voice and Saskia and Kate instantly leant closer towards her ‘...I’ve had enough of that circus who think that they can make up any kind of story and get away with it. I have helped the media sell newspapers and magazines for the last ten years. And now I’m done with it. I am not playing that game any more. And they are going to have to get used to the idea. This time I call the shots.’

  Kate’s eyebrows lifted. ‘I knew it! You’re going to charge them megabucks for a full page nude shot with you sitting at a white grand piano with only discreet pieces of sheet music and fabulous jewels to cover your modesty? That could be fun.’

  Amber and Saskia both turned and stared at Kate in silence.

  ‘What? So I have a vivid imagination?’ Kate shrugged.

  Amber frowned at Kate for a moment and then blinked. ‘Not exactly what I had in mind and no, it wouldn’t be fun, not even for the megabucks. But do you know what? The more I thought about it, the more I got to thinking that maybe Sam does have something we can trade with after all.’

  Kate drew back and squinted at her suspiciously. ‘Go on.’

  ‘I need to get the past off my back. Parvita’s charity and my birthday party are going to take all of my time and energy, and the last thing I need is a troop of paparazzi making my life even more of a nightmare.’

  ‘You really are serious about retiring?’

  ‘Totally,’ Amber replied and smiled at Saskia. ‘But talking to you two has reminded me where my real priorities lie.’ And then she reached out and squeezed Saskia’s hand for a second. ‘Your aunt Margot gave me a sanctuary at Elwood House, and I haven’t forgotten it. I owe you. This is why I’m thinking of doing something rather rash.’

  ‘What do you mean by rash?’ Saskia asked in her low, calm, gentle voice.

  Amber took a long drink of coffee, well aware that both of her friends were waiting for her to speak.

  ‘When you told me all about your plans to convert Elwood House into a private meeting and dining venue I was amazed that we hadn’t thought about it before. Your dining room is stunning.’

  Her voice drifted away dreamily. ‘I gave my first piano recital in that house. I’ll never forget it. The crystal chandeliers. The flickering firelight. It was magical. This is why I want to do as much as I can to help make Elwood House a success.’

  Saskia shook her head. ‘You have already invited half the fashion models in London, their agents, their posh friends and the music industry to your birthday party this week. I couldn’t ask for better publicity.’

  ‘And yet you still don’t have a decent website or booking system or photo gallery to showcase the house. And that. Is where I come in. And you can stop shaking your head; I know that you won’t take my money. So I am going to ask a professional photographer to come over and put together your full marketing package and organise the website. Free. Gratis. Won’t cost you a penny.’

  ‘Really?’ Saskia replied and lifted her mug towards Amber in a toast. ‘That’s fantastic. Is he one of your fashion pals?’

  Amber licked her lips and took a sip of water before answering.

  ‘Not exactly. I think Sam Richards is calling himself a photojournalist these days. More tarts, anyone?’

  Amber paused and looked at Kate, who was groaning with her head in her hands. ‘Don’t worry about Sam. He knows that he has to be on his very best behaviour if he has any chance of that interview. Saskia needs those photos and Sam seems to know which end of a camera to point. And no, I haven’t forgiven him yet. Think of this as part of the payback. So please don’t kill him. At least not in front of the party guests. Saskia does not want bloodstains on her nice carpet.’

  The words had barely left Amber’s mouth and the shouts were still ringing in her ears when the oven timer bell rang and Kate shook her head slowly from side to side before diving back into the kitchen to get fresh supplies of snacks.

  ‘Don’t burn your mouth b
y eating them straight out of the oven,’ Saskia called out to Kate, but then her mouth relaxed into a half smile. ‘Payback. I suppose that is one way of looking at it and I have no doubt that he would do a good job. But sheesh, Amber. I am worried for you.’

  Amber was just about to rattle off a casual throwaway remark, but instead she paused before answering one of her few real friends in the world. The old Amber would have laughed off her friend’s concern with a flippant gesture as some sort of silly joke, but the new Amber was slowly getting used to opening up to people she loved and trusted. ‘You always did like Sam, didn’t you?’

  Saskia gave a brisk nod. ‘I suppose so. Not in any sort of romantic way, of course, nothing like that, but yes, I did. His dad had driven my aunt Margot around for years and sometimes he brought Sam along with him. I suppose that’s why I suggested that your mum use his limo service to take her to venues.’

  Saskia lifted one hand. ‘I think I might even have introduced you. So blame me for what happened. But yes, I thought he was okay.’ Her brow squeezed together. ‘Why do you ask me that now?’

  ‘Because it was so weird. Over the years I sometimes imagined what I would say if I met up with Sam unexpectedly at some airport or hotel, or if he came to one of my performances. But when I saw him yesterday? All those clever, witty put-downs just fled. He was still the same Sam, working in his dad’s garage. And I was right back to feeling like a gawky, awkward, six feet tall seventeen-year-old with big feet who was trying to sound all grown-up and clever around this handsome, streetwise city boy.’

  Amber looked up at Saskia and shrugged. ‘I trusted him then and he let me down just when I needed him the most. How do I know that I can trust him now? The orphanage in India is too important to me to see the real message buried under some big celebrity exposé which is around the world in seconds. Can you imagine the headlines? “Brave Bambi DuBois cheats death from meningitis. Career in tatters.” Oh, they would love that.’

  ‘Which is why you are taking control. Maybe there is too much history between the two of you for him to be objective. But we agreed that we would give him an audition for the job, and that is what we are going to do. Okay?’

  ‘Absolutely okay. If he can stand it, then so can I.’

  ‘Right. And on the way you can make sure that Sam gets the message that you have moved on to even more handsome and successful boyfriends. But fear not. Kate and I will make sure that we rub it in at regular intervals that he made a horrible mistake when he let you go and you are so totally over him.’

  ‘Saskia! I didn’t say anything about being cruel. And as for being over him? Sam only had to smile at me yesterday and I got the tingles from head to toe. Which is so ridiculous I can hardly admit it. The last time that happened I ended up on a plane to Kathmandu with a suitcase full of evening wear and piano music and no clue about what I was going to do when I got there.’

  ‘Mark the mountaineer?’

  Amber nodded. ‘And three years before that it was Rico. Racing car driver. One kiss on the cheek and a cuddle in the pits and I smelt of diesel fumes for months.’

  Amber sighed dramatically and slumped back. ‘I am a hopeless case and I know it. I mean. A mountaineer? What was I thinking? I got the tingles and that was that.’ She blinked a couple of times. ‘The only scientific explanation is that I was cursed at birth. You know how it goes. The good fairy godmother blesses me with some musical talent, and the evil one says, “Oh, that’s sweet, but in exchange you are going to fall for men who will only ever be interested in their obsession. So you had better get used to the idea.”’

  ‘You weren’t thinking. You were taking a chance on love with remarkable men,’ Saskia replied wistfully. ‘You know. Not all of us have had a chance to be cuddled by racing car drivers or kissed at Everest base camp. I envy you for having the courage to take that risk.’

  Amber instantly sat up and wrapped her arm around Saskia’s shoulder. ‘You’ll meet someone—I’m sure of it. Especially now you’re opening up Elwood House. Think of all the handsome executives who will be queuing up to sample your tasty treats.’

  ‘From your lips... But in the meantime, where does that leave our Sam Richards? Because, to me, this little plan of ours could go in one of two ways. Either you keep your cool and freeze out his tingle power so that you can finally get Sam out of your system and your life. Or...’

  Saskia smiled and pushed out her lips. ‘You might be tempted to try out the new and improved version to see if the quality of those tingles has improved over the years. And don’t look at me like that. It’s a distinct possibility. Dangerous, scary and not very clever, but a possibility...and that worries me, Amber. I know how much you cared about Sam. I was there, remember? I don’t want to see you running back to Elwood House in tears over Sam Richards.’

  ‘Sam?’ came a squeaky voice from the bedroom and a second later its owner appeared on the patio and she was not carrying more snacks.

  Kate was wearing a huge fascinator in the shape of a red tropical flower on her head and several strings of huge beads cascaded below bundles of silk scarves. ‘You don’t have time to think about boys, woman!’

  Kate gestured with her head towards the dressing room, which had long since given up any hope of being used as a second bedroom. ‘Amber DuBois, you are officially one of the worst hoarders I have ever seen. And I make clothes for women who are still wearing their mother’s hats. You have been crushing stuff into those cupboards for years. I am frightened to open those wardrobes in fear of avalanche.’

  Amber waved one slender hand in the air. ‘I know. I spent most of yesterday trying to root out casual day clothes to wear and ended up going to the shops. I have got so used to just dumping my stuff here that when I want something I cannot find it.’

  Amber frowned and pushed her lower lip out. ‘Is it normal to have more performance dresses than pants? I love dressing up for my audiences, but I find it so hard to refuse when designers start giving me free gorgeous things to wear. Most of those dresses have only had to survive one recital. It does seem a shame to just stash them until they gather dust. Unless, of course...’

  She grinned and looked from side to side. ‘Ladies. I have been looking for some way of raising funds. What do you say to a spot of dressing up in the name of decluttering? I am talking Internet auctions and second-hand designer shops.’ A wide grin creased her face as she was practically deafened by shrieks from Saskia and Kate. ‘I’ll take those screams as a yes. Right. Then let’s get started on those ball gowns. But girls—there is one condition. You do not touch the sacred shoes. Okay? Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll race you.’

  SIX

  Sam Richards leant against the back wall of the elevator, propped his camera bag against his foot and crossed his arms as he enjoyed the view.

  Two tall, very slender brunettes dressed from head to toe in black had rushed in at the last minute from the cream and caramel marble reception area to Amber’s apartment building, gushing thanks and flooding the space with giggling, floral perfume and an empty garment rail which took up the whole width of the elevator. Judging by their sideways glances, indiscreet nudging and body language, they were not too unhappy with being crushed into the space with him, and any other time and place he might have started chatting and enjoying their company.

  But not today.

  His morning had already got off to a poor start when his dad had phoned from France saying that he was going to stay on a few more days because for once the weather in the Alps was perfect for a spot of touring.

  Perhaps it was just as well. His dad had not exactly been sympathetic when Sam had told him about Amber’s little scheme. In fact he had laughed his head off and told him to behave himself.

  As if he had a choice.

  Sam pressed his hands flat against the cool surface of the elevator wall.

  Amber had the upper hand and he was going to have to go with it, but it didn’t mean to say that he liked it. One. Little. Bit. He had stoppe
d being at other people’s beck and call the day he’d left London and there was no way he was going to step into the role of Amber’s fool and like it.

  But he would get through it and move on. He could survive being pulled back into Amber’s high class life as a diva for a few days.

  If she could stand it—then so could he.

  Sam inhaled the perfumed air, which was suddenly overheated and cloying. He had no interest in this world of fashion and celebrity—he never had. The A-list party and clubbing circuit had long lost their appeal for him. It was his job and he worked hard to create something interesting and new out of the same old shallow gossip and the relentless need for fame and riches fuelled by the public obsession for celebrity—an obsession he helped to foster, whether he liked that fact or not.

  Past tense. He had paid his dues and earned the right to sit behind that editor’s desk, doing the job he had been trained for. And he wasn’t going to let that slip away from him without a fight.

  He had come a long way from the raw teenager with a fire in his belly that Amber had known.

  Man enough for the job? Oh, yes, he was man enough for the job all right.

  Even if he had no clue what the actual job was. Her text message had asked him to bring his camera bag and a screwdriver over and they were all the clues she had given him.

  Sam rolled his shoulders back as the elevator slowed and the girls starting fidgeting with the clothes rail.

  The elevator doors slid open on the floor number Amber had given him but, before he could stride forward with his bag, the girls swept out into the wide corridor of pale wood and pastel colours.

  Interesting.

  Unless, of course...

  With a tiny shoulder shrug Sam slowly followed the girls towards the penthouse apartment. Lively disco dance music drifted out through an open door towards him, the beat in perfect tune with the rattle of their high heels on the fine wooden floor.