by Marie Astor
But eleven months ago, all Claire knew about David Lawson was that David was a handsome heir who charmed his way through life. His womanizing reputation preceded him, so when David approached her at one of Amber’s mixers, Claire had pretty much blown him off. She had been polite, but that was where it ended, and when David tried to get her number, she feigned an excuse and left the party.
Her surprise was too big for words when, upon coming in to work the next morning, Claire found two dozen white roses on her desk with a note from David. Her fingers trembling, she dialed Amber and shared the mind-boggling news. Somehow, the idea of receiving flowers from David Lawson did not quite fit into Claire’s mind. Who sent flowers these days? Of all the men she had dated (granted, there had not been that many) this was a first for her.
“That’s because David is a true gentleman,” Amber had countered, “and it was really stupid of you to blow him off last night. He really liked you, you know.”
“Somehow I doubt that David Lawson has a shortage of dates,” Claire had retorted. “And I’m not about to become his next one-night stand.”
“Well, I think you’ve made that perfectly clear. Hence, the flowers. Just don’t overdo it, okay?”
“You mean there’s more to come?”
“I imagine he’s going to ask you out. That’s how men usually act when they like a girl, not that you’d have any idea with the hermit lifestyle that you’ve been practicing.”
“I’m very happy with my life, thank you very much.”
“Just go out with David already, okay? I’m a PR agent, not a matchmaker. It’s bad enough he had to call me to get your phone number. I don’t want to be the messenger between the two of you.”
“Fair enough. I’ll go out with him to get him off your back, but that’s where it ends.”
“Aha. Let’s wait and see what you’ll be saying after your date with him.”
At the time Claire had scoffed at Amber’s reply, but her friend’s words turned out to be prophetic after all. It had only taken a handful of dates for Claire to fall for David Lawson.
Lost in her reminiscences, Claire did not notice that the cab driver had already reached the destination and was waiting to be paid. She quickly handed him the fare, ran her hand over her hair one last time, and opened the car door.
“Claire. I was looking forward to seeing you all day.” David was by her side as soon as her feet had reached the curb.
“David.” Her heart surged as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s neck.
“I’m so sorry you had to trudge over here in a cab. I was stuck at the office.”
“That’s all right.” She smiled dreamily at him, thinking that as long as she wound up in David’s arms, she did not care how she got there.
“Let’s go inside before it gets too crowded.” David pulled her closer to him, and feeling secure with his arm on the small of her back, Claire followed.
“Claire!” Amber air-kissed her on both cheeks. “Isn’t this a great turnout?”
“As usual, you’ve outdone yourself.” Claire surveyed the vast crowd, spotting familiar faces she remembered from ads and magazines.
“By the end of the evening, Club Metro is going to be the hottest club in town.” Amber shook her platinum blond hair with exuberance. “And, of course, I have to thank two of my closest friends for supporting me.” Amber flashed David a playful smile. “Having David Lawson as a guest at an event immediately raises the hotness status by two hundred percent.”
“Well, you’re looking hot enough to light this place up all on your own, Amber.” David pinched Amber’s cheek.
“Such a tease!” Amber giggled, her lashes batting playfully over her sky-blue eyes. “You two go upstairs, into the VIP lounge. I’ve got to work the grind here.”
“We’ll see you later, Amber.” David flashed one of his dazzling smiles, reaching for Claire’s hand.
“By the way, Claire, you look awesome in this dress,” Amber whispered. “Aren’t you glad you let me talk you into buying it?”
“Thanks, Amber. You’re looking great yourself.” As usual, Amber was not to be outdone. Dressed in a sequined mini-dress that clung to her lanky, model-like body, she looked like she was wearing a gown of melted silver.
Upstairs, they were immediately whisked into a VIP booth, where a bottle of Dom Perignon awaited them in an ice bucket.
“Pretty swanky, huh?” David uncorked the champagne without so much as a whisper of a sound. He poured the sparkling liquid into Claire’s glass and filled his own. “Here’s to my girl.”
Claire smiled and lifted the glass to her lips. She loved it when David called her his girl - there was something so sweetly old-fashioned about it.
“So, how was your day?” she asked him.
“There was only one good thing about it: looking forward to seeing you.” David squeezed her hand, and Claire thought she was going to literally melt under his gaze. He had had this effect on her ever since they met, and at times, she wondered if she would ever start taking David for granted. At the moment, it seemed impossible. “And that’s all I care to say about my day at the office on a Saturday. How was your day, baby?”
“I had the craziest morning.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“I got a new neighbor, and he was playing his music really loud...” The image of Alec’s bare torso materialized in Claire’s mind as she remembered him moving to the sensual tango music. Flustered, she halted into silence. Here she was, sitting across from the most desirable man in all of New York and most likely in the world, having ridiculous thoughts about her impertinent neighbor.
“So the two of you thought you could slink away, did you? I know all the hiding places.” Amber sidled into the seat next to David.
For once, Claire was glad of Amber’s interruption.
“Aren’t you two going to dance?” Amber asked.
As if on cue, a deafening blast of techno filled the room.
Claire glanced at the empty dance floor and shook her head. “Oh, you know us, Amber. David and I don’t dance.”
“That’s right.” David nodded. “I can think of far better things to do with my girl than grinding on the dance floor.”
Even David Lawson had an imperfection. It was his utter lack of rhythm and musical timing - a flaw that Claire had found most endearing when she had overheard David singing in the shower. David took care to stay off the dance floor, and Claire adored him all the more for it.
“Suit yourselves.” Amber rose from her seat. In her usual devil-may-care fashion, she approached a Calvin Klein underwear model whose picture Claire remembered from a billboard. In no time at all, the two were in the center of the dance floor. Amber’s body slithered this way and that as she pressed herself against the taut, muscular body of the underwear hunk, undaunted by the fact that they were the only couple dancing. Of course, that did not remain the case for long. Ever since her cheerleading days in high school, Amber had possessed an uncanny ability to get people to do what she wanted, and she did not fail now. In a handful of moments, the dance floor became flooded as everyone in the room rushed in to follow Amber. Everyone but David.
“What do you say we call it a night, baby?” David glanced at Claire across the table.
Claire nodded with relief. That was another thing she adored about David. Most people would have never suspected that despite all the publicity and the flashy events he had to attend, deep down David Lawson was a homebody.
Chapter 3
Upon waking up the next morning, Claire arched her back, relishing the feel of the satin sheets against her skin. Beside her, David lay breathing evenly, still asleep. It had only been a couple of months since she had finally gotten comfortable enough to actually be able to sleep with him in the same bed. Before, Claire would always find an excuse to go home after they made love, but David had gotten onto her. One night, he insisted on staying at her place, and ever since then, they had been taking turns between his and
her apartments. Granted, David’s split-level junior four apartment in a full service luxury building in Battery Park was a lot more glamorous than Claire’s place.
Claire rose on her elbow and checked the time: it was ten a.m. She snuck out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She might have gotten comfortable enough to sleep in the same bed with David, but she still wanted her breath to smell fresh when he woke up.
A few minutes later, she tiptoed back into bed and snuggled next to David. Usually, David was always the first to wake up, and together they would go for a four-mile run. No doubt, upon waking up, David was bound to get upset for oversleeping, but Claire was not about to nudge him. She wanted them to spend the morning reading newspapers over breakfast instead of gasping for breath in sweat-soaked clothes. David muttered something incoherent as he flung his arm across Claire’s chest. Careful not to wake him, she maneuvered out of the way and tucked the comforter up to her chin. She loved lounging in bed like this.
“What time is it?” David mumbled groggily, reaching for the clock on the bedside table. “Ten-thirty? Claire, are you up?” He turned toward her.
“Huh? What?” Claire could be a good actress when she needed to be.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” David smooched her. “Well, since we’ve overslept our run this morning, I think there are a few other activities I can think of for us to make up for missed exercise.” He reached underneath her lacy nightgown.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” Claire asked, thinking that her plan had worked perfectly. After all, she much preferred making love to jogging.
Over breakfast, holding the morning newspaper in his left hand, David shook his head as he lifted a forkful of eggs to his mouth.
“You don’t like your eggs?” Claire worried that her cooking was not to David’s likening. Usually he opted for cereal and milk, but this morning she had prepared the full spread: scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. She had specifically instructed David’s housekeeper to stock up on provisions to surprise him.
“No, baby, the eggs are superb, although, if you keep this up, I’m going to have to double my morning jogs.” David patted his washboard stomach. “It’s the news that worries me.”
“Yeah? What’s wrong?” Claire poured herself a cup of coffee.
“I just saw something in the paper that might affect my father’s new development plans.” David frowned, his mind still focused on the article. “But I won’t let it spoil our morning.” He smiled at her. “Thank you for making breakfast.”
“You’re welcome.” Claire took a bite of her bacon. If there was one thing she wished she could change about David Lawson it was to make him forget about work on weekends.
“So what do you want to do today?” Claire asked after she had loaded the dishes into the dishwasher. She had replaced her evening dress with indigo jeans and a peasant blouse. That was another recent change: David had suggested that she leave a few of her things at his place, so that she would not have to rush home to change when spending the weekend with him.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Didn’t I tell you? I have to get back to the office. I’m working on a major deal that is due to close on Wednesday and I’ve got to go over the financials one more time to make sure everything is in shipshape.”
“Oh.” Claire fought back the disappointment. She had been looking forward to seeing David all week, and already, their time together was over.
“I tell you what. Why don’t you go to the pool downstairs, maybe do some shopping? I should be back around seven or so.” David reached for his wallet and handed Claire his credit card. “Do you forgive me?”
Most women would jump at the chance, but Claire wanted David, not his credit cards. Plus, if she knew anything about men, it was that you could not let a man think that you sat around moping for him.
“That’s all right, David. Actually, I’ve just remembered that I have a few work things to catch up on myself.”
“I’m really sorry, baby. I swear I’ll make it up to you next weekend.”
A short while later, as his chauffeur held the black Mercedes door open for him, David asked, “Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off at your apartment?” “Positive. I’ve got a few errands to run on the way.”
“Oh?” David arched an eyebrow and Claire sensed his eyes lingering on her neckline. “Is this blouse supposed to be open like this?” David buttoned the top button Claire had purposely left undone. “Oh, and let me know if that new neighbor of yours gives you any trouble.”
“I don’t think he will be bothering me anymore.” Claire stammered, wondering what on earth prompted David to bring this up.
After David’s car pulled away, Claire considered her options. She had planned to spend the day with David, but as it had unexpectedly turned out, she now had the entire Sunday to herself. Truth be told, these occurrences were becoming disconcertingly frequent. Lately, she had noticed David spending a far greater number of weekends at the office than Claire would have liked to admit. Of course, she could have taken David up on his offer and hung around to spend a few precious evening hours with him, but as much as she had been tempted to, she knew that she had been right to resist. She was not about to manifest her growing attachment to David by sitting around and moping for him.
Claire smiled with self-satisfaction, remembering the protective way David had buttoned up her blouse. Men, even a man like David Lawson, were highly predictable. The minute you let them think they knew everything about you, they were liable to take you for granted, but as long as you left some mystique, they would keep coming back for more.
Claire headed toward the Subway, thinking that she might take a stroll through SoHo. Then she reached for her cell phone and dialed her best friend Lindsay. Lindsay always worked late on Saturday nights, covering some big event, and Claire was fairly certain that she would be just getting ready to get breakfast.
“Hello?” Lindsay’s groggy voice croaked in the receiver.
“Good morning, sunshine.” With a great effort, Claire stifled a chuckle. “Did you sleep well?”
“I did until you woke me up.”
“Well, good morning to you too. Actually, it is almost two o’clock, so good afternoon.”
“I don’t see anything good about this morning or afternoon.” Lindsay grumbled.
“How about if I buy you breakfast?”
“Well, if you put it that way…”
“I’ll meet you at the crepes place in half an hour.”
“Bye…” Lindsay’s voice trailed off as Claire heard a crashing noise on the other end of the line.
With a guilty grin, Claire hung up. If she had to stay up until all hours of the night to collect society gossip that would be forgotten less than a half hour after it went into print, she would be grumpy too. Yet Lindsay loved her job, and she was damn good at it too. Even in high school Lindsay had always been the first to know all the news.
“Hey!”
In the crepes place, Claire saw Lindsay, already seated with a huge cup of coffee in front of her, wave at her.
“Someone looks awake.” Claire took a seat.
“Yeah.” Lindsay grinned. “Sorry for barking at you earlier.”
“Rough night?”
“Very. I had to cover three openings last night. I got home around six a.m., and then I had to organize my notes so that I could get the report out to my editor. I finally crashed at around eight and then had the pleasure of being woken up by you.”
“Geez, Lindsay, I’m sorry for dragging you out today.”
“Never mind. That’s the life of a tabloid reporter, and ever since the new editor took over, it’s gotten even more intense.” Lindsay shrugged. “But don’t you worry. One day I’m going to write for the New York Times, and then everything will be different. No more sweaty nightclubs or teenage celebrities; instead, I’ll be covering museum galas, charity balls, and socialites.” Lindsay’s eyes lit up.
“I’m sure it wi
ll happen soon.” Claire felt lame for her platitude, but she was as remote from the world of reporting as she was from dancing.
“Should we order? I’m starving, and you promised to buy me breakfast.” Lindsay turned her attention to the menu. “I’m gonna have a ham and cheese crepe. Do you want to share a Nutella crepe?”
“I’ll just have some coffee.”
“You’ve got to have more than coffee, or you’ll make me look like a glutton.”
“I just had bacon and eggs with David. I can’t splurge on calories like you.”
“Please.” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to be on a diet.”
“Easy for you to say: you can probably still fit into your high school jeans,” Claire added wistfully. Not that she wanted to fit into her own high school jeans. Not fitting into her high school jeans was a blessing, and she intended to keep it that way.
“Please! You’ve got a great body. I’d kill to have your boobs.” Lindsay frowned, glancing at her own modest chest.
“Boobs can be a real nuisance,” Claire countered, eyeing Lindsay’s stick-thin frame. “You, however, can go bra-less whenever you want.” And you didn’t have to suffer through a chubby childhood and adolescence, Claire thought, but she bit her tongue. After all, Lindsay had been there with her to witness her tribulations firsthand.
“By the way, I missed you at the Metro opening,” Lindsay remarked after the waitress had taken their orders.