Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1)

by Taylor, Drucie Anne

  “McLeod. My name is Gavin McLeod, and what’s yours?”

  “Madeleine Dubois. Nice to meet you.”

  He grins. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

  “Sure I do. You’re a contestant on Celebrity Dance Hall. I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before,” I say, smiling. “And now I have to go. See you.”

  As I step outside and look around for a taxi, he’s suddenly standing next to me again. “Can I see you again?” he asks.

  I look up at him. “You practice here, so I assume we’ll cross paths every now and then.”

  “I mean privately.”

  “Probably not. I have a lot going on,” I say.

  “I do, too, but I’d still like to see you again,” he says smoothly, with a breathtaking smile.

  “Maybe the day after tomorrow, when my class is over. Or if you’ve got the time, you can join the class, too,” I suggest.

  “When does it start? I have to practice with Julie from ten to six.”

  “It starts at six thirty and ends at eight,” I answer as I wave down a taxi. “You can just come; you don’t need to sign up or anything.” The taxi stops in front of me. “I have to go. See you in a couple of days.”

  “Bye,” he says, still smiling. He opens the taxi’s door for me. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I get in and he closes the door, and I give the driver my address. If it wasn’t already dark, I’d walk home, but in this part of town I don’t want to walk around alone in the evening. I’m curious how Gavin will do in the dance class, or if he’ll even be able to keep up. It’s possible that he’s sore from practicing with Julie, anyway. It’s usually difficult for beginners after such a short time.

  When I enter the apartment, I see Macey standing in the kitchen, which is right by the door. “Hey, sweetie,” she greets me happily.

  “Hey! You’re here again!”

  “Yeah. Today was dress rehearsal. The first show is on Friday,” she answers. “I’m totally nervous.” She’s playing the role of Belle in Beauty and the Beast, and I don’t understand her fear. She’s had singing lessons since she was tiny, went to Juilliard, and has an incredible voice.

  “You don’t have to be nervous. You’re going to rock the house.” I smile and lean against the counter. “You’re always nervous before your performances, and they’re always fantastic.”

  “By the way, I have tickets to my opening night for you. Two of them, in case you want to bring someone.”

  “I don’t have anyone to ask,” I respond, suddenly feeling a little moody.

  “What about Jonah?” she asks with surprise.

  I shake my head. “We broke up a few days . . . No, a couple of weeks ago.”

  “What?” she cries. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You were so busy, and aside from that, I wanted to deal with it by myself.” I grin. “I wouldn’t have survived another one of your chocolate massacres, like when I broke up with Trevor.”

  She laughs. “Hey! I can’t help it that chocolate makes me feel better when your broken heart is so contagious! You didn’t have to eat with me.”

  “I ate with you because otherwise you would have gained all those pounds alone. And anyway, I felt much better afterward,” I respond with a giggle.

  Macey stirs a pot on the stove. “I’m so glad I don’t have a boyfriend who can hurt me. Maybe you should try life without one for a while, too.”

  “That’s the plan, but those kinds of plans don’t usually work out.”

  She nods in agreement. “Sure, but you can always drive a guy away again with your bitchy attitude.” She gives me a cocky grin.

  “Not if he’s really great,” I insist.

  She runs a hand through her brunette locks, and then looks at me contemplatively with her brown eyes. “You know guys just act like they’re great to get women into bed with them.”

  I sigh and sit on the kitchen island that separates the cooking area from the dining room. “I’m just afraid I won’t find anyone. I don’t want to end up alone like my aunt.”

  “You’re only twenty-two years old, and you really have enough time before you have to settle down. Maybe you should just sleep around,” Macey suggests.

  My mouth falls open. “I’m not really the type for that.”

  “Then become the type. You should have some fun, and not just get stuck in a limiting relationship.”

  “Oh, man,” I say with a groan. “Umm . . . I’m going to my room to digest that, and I’ll come out again in ten minutes.”

  She grins her fresh grin again, which makes her eyes gleam. “Good. In ten minutes dinner will be ready.”

  “What are you making?”

  “Soup, because I have a sore throat.”

  “We don’t want the big Broadway star to get a cold right before opening night,” I say, and leave the kitchen.

  “Right, we definitely don’t want that!” Macey calls after me when I’m almost to my room.

  I have no idea if she’s right about sleeping around. I don’t go out very much—mostly just to dance. But I’ve even neglected that recently, because Jonah and I have to practice so much. We’re always too tired to go out and party afterward. It’s not as easy as my best friend imagines it is. OK, maybe she assumes that I’m over the relationship, and somehow I am. But it still hurts as much as ever. Besides, now I feel lonely. Very lonely. Maybe I should go to the Hamptons to see my parents when I’ve finished teaching the summer classes. I can relax there. Even if my parents won’t leave me alone about starting a “real” career until I’ve left again.

  There are still three days until Friday, and two until I see Gavin McLeod again. Maybe I should invite him to come with me to the premiere of the musical. I think that’s a good idea. A little fun never hurt anyone, and by that I don’t mean sleeping around.

  Chapter 2

  It’s Thursday, and I’m getting ready for my dance class. As usual, I’m wearing black: leggings, a short pleated skirt, and a tight top that has a low neckline, but doesn’t show too much. I can see through the glass that Julie and Gavin are talking. They’re probably done practicing, because they’re both sitting on the floor. I’ve already warmed up and now I’m waiting for the students.

  The door opens, and they start to come in. I’m teaching them salsa today. “Good evening,” I say. They look like they’re all between thirty and thirty-five.

  “Where’s Julie?” a woman asks.

  “Julie’s in the Celebrity Dance Hall cast this year. That’s why I’m teaching her class,” I answer patiently, although she’s looking at me skeptically.

  “And you’re sure we’ll learn just as much with you as we did with her?” she asks rudely.

  Even though I would prefer to bawl her out, I form my lips into a smile. “Of course. But if you don’t feel as though you’re learning anything from me, you’re welcome to leave.”

  She clicks her tongue. “I’ll give you a chance.”

  “Thanks.”

  The room is filling up with couples, and I step into the middle of the group. “Today we’ll be doing the salsa again. Please join your partner and take the starting position.”

  The door opens. “I’m sorry, I’m a little late,” Gavin McLeod says as he comes over to me.

  “No problem. Would you like to dance, or just watch at first?” I ask.

  “Just watch,” he answers with a smile and goes over to take a chair by the wall.

  I’m instructing a couple who are at least able to master the basic steps, although they’re having trouble with their turns. It annoys me that Julie didn’t manage to help them figure it out in the last two semesters. “Now let’s try the turns!” I say loudly. I eye a young couple who seem to be the best dancers in the group. “May I borrow your partner?” I ask the woman.

  “Sure.” She smiles and steps back a little.

  “Hi, what’s your name?”

  “Noah,” he answers.

  “OK, Noah. I’m Madeleine. We
’re going to show the others how to do the spin,” I explain. “You have to keep up the basic step while I turn, OK?”

  He nods. “Sure.”

  I take a step back and turn around, and he manages not to lose the rhythm. “Again.” We do it one more time. “And now you try it,” I encourage the students, who immediately start to dance. I let Noah go and he starts dancing with his girlfriend again—well, I’m guessing she’s his girlfriend. Every now and then I correct someone’s posture, show the turn again, and compliment the couples on their dancing.

  Suddenly Gavin is standing next to me. “Could you teach me to do it, too? Salsa is the first dance I have to do with Julie on the show.”

  “Hmm,” I say, eyeing him with my head tilted. “Do you know the basic step?”

  “Actually, I can do everything but the turns and lifts that Julie wants to put in,” he answers.

  I take a deep breath. “OK, but I warn you, I’m probably stricter than Julie.” I smile at him.

  “That doesn’t bother me.”

  I take him to the middle of the room. He takes one of my hands in his and puts his free hand on my hip. It only takes a few seconds before he begins to guide me through the room. At least he seems to have learned the basic step very quickly. I let go of him and spin, and he asks me to do it a second and a third time. Then we take the starting position again, and practically whirl through the classroom.

  As the music ends, we release each other. The students have all stopped dancing, and have been watching us. Now they break into applause. “Thank you,” I say, feeling myself blush. Gavin sits down in his chair again.

  I bring the class to a close, say good-bye to the students, and start to clean up. I jump when Gavin clears his throat behind me. “It was fun to dance with you.”

  I turn around. “Thank you.”

  He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking a little shy. “Do you think you might like to go out for a drink with me?”

  I look down at myself. “I can’t really go to a bar looking like this.”

  “So you have to change, I guess?”

  “Umm, yes . . . But the thing is, I don’t usually go out.”

  “Would you make an exception for me?” he asks.

  You should have some fun. Macey’s words echo in my head. “OK, I’ll change, and then we can go.”

  “Cool. I’ll wait for you at the door . . . um . . .”

  “Call me Madeleine,” I say.

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Gavin.” I grab my bag and head for the door.

  “You’re welcome, Madeleine,” he says with a grin.

  We separate at the changing rooms. Since he was about half an hour late to class, he must have already showered. He smelled so fresh and above all extremely good when we danced together. In the meantime I envy Julie her dance partner. Last year, I had to dance with a newcomer who was a creepy woman-hater. I don’t know how many times he called me bitch or slut, but it was way too often. I couldn’t cancel, because of my contract, otherwise I wouldn’t have seen any money at all. I was happy when we were voted out by the audience in the eighth episode.

  Half an hour later when I walk out of the building, I can’t see Gavin anywhere. Maybe he already left because I took too long, or he decided he didn’t feel like going out anymore. I sigh and look at my cell phone. In the meantime it’s a quarter to nine and I’m bushed, anyway. I unlock my bicycle and stick my bag in the basket.

  “Hey, sorry. I was looking for a coffee machine because I needed something warm,” he says as I’m about to get on my bike.

  “Oh.” I stop. “OK. Where would you like to go?”

  “We could go to the bar at the hotel where I’m staying this week.”

  “Which hotel?”

  “The Plaza,” he answers me with a self-assured laugh.

  “Oh, no! I’m really not dressed for that.”

  “And I am?” he asks with amusement.

  “No, but I’m assuming there’s a dress code there.”

  “I’m staying in the most expensive suite in the hotel. If they complain, I’ll pack my bags and go somewhere else,” he says.

  I sigh. “Maybe we should just go to some bar.”

  “Why? Are you afraid of the dress code?” he asks with amusement.

  “I’m not afraid, but I’m not looking forward to the other guests staring at me.”

  “Come on, Madeleine. I’d be really happy if you’d come with me.”

  I sigh again. “You won’t give up until I agree, will you?”

  Gavin shakes his head, and a few locks of his hair fall in his face. “No, I won’t, because I really want to spend the rest of the evening with you.”

  I give in. “Let’s go.”

  “Good. Will you come with me in my car? We can put your bike in the trunk.”

  “In the trunk? What kind of car are you driving?”

  “A big one, so I can get all my stuff in.” He smiles and reaches out for my hand. I decline by putting both hands on the bike’s handlebars and walk next to him.

  “You’re a fantastic dancer.”

  “Thanks, Gavin.”

  “And you even look pretty hot when you’re teaching,” he continues with amusement.

  “Well, thanks.” I smile hesitantly as we reach the parking lot.

  “That was supposed to be a compliment. I like girls who can dance. But I’ve figured out that Julie is . . . kind of a klutz. But you’re totally light on your feet, as though you’ve never done anything else.”

  “Actually, I never have done anything else,” I inform him.

  “Do you enjoy it?” he asks with interest.

  “Yes, but sometimes I think it’s the only thing I can do well. I was never a genius at school, but I know how to move. That’s what opened the door for me at the Dance Company.”

  “Where did you study?”

  “I danced at two different academies, and I also went to Juilliard.”

  Gavin smiles at me as we stop at his car. “I didn’t go to college, and I didn’t graduate from high school with honors, either.” Then he opens the trunk. “Give me your bike.”

  “Oh, sure,” I say, and pass it over to him so he can put it in the back of the car.

  He lifts it in. The backseats are folded down, otherwise it wouldn’t have fit. “Don’t worry, I can drive you home later, then you won’t have to ride halfway across the city.”

  “We’ll see. I really like biking.” I step aside so he can close the trunk. Then he goes to the passenger door and opens it for me.

  “Have a seat, Madeleine.”

  I get in, and he closes the door and walks around the car. He gets in and starts the engine, concentrating on the crazy New York traffic as he drives. I watch him thoughtfully. “So who are you? You asked me the day before yesterday if I knew who you are.”

  He laughs softly. “I’m just Gavin.”

  “It didn’t sound like that before,” I say, curious. “So?”

  “I’m a singer.”

  “In a band?”

  He nods.

  “Which one?”

  “Downstair Alley. Linden Priest’s band. Ever heard of it?”

  “I’m not so up to date on the music scene, but if you sing something for me, maybe I’ll recognize it.”

  Gavin starts to sing, but I don’t recognize the song. I look at him blankly.

  “And, have you ever heard it?”

  “No, it doesn’t ring any bells.”

  “And this?” He sings another song.

  “That sounds familiar.”

  “‘Without You I’ll Die’ is one of our best-known songs,” he says, smiling. “But I’d be glad if I could still just be Gavin for you, instead of a boyband singer.”

  “Did I say that anything would change?” I giggle. “Don’t worry, I’m not some groupie, and I certainly won’t stalk you.”

  “That’s very reassuring. But the groupie part worries me more than the stalker part.” He laughs.

>   “So you find stalkers less threatening?”

  “Let me put it this way: they’re not as bad as a horde of tweens that follow you from city to city.”

  “So you don’t like to be famous?” I say, prying a little. After all, that’s the dream of every musician, isn’t it? I would be happy if I was a famous dancer. It would make a lot of things easier.

  “Of course I do, but the downside is pretty annoying.”

  I take a deep breath. “I think there must be worse things. Look, you can still go out without a bodyguard, and go for a drink with me.”

  “What makes you so sure there aren’t any bodyguards around?” he counters, and looks at me curiously.

  “Are there?”

  He smiles, but doesn’t answer. It’s a little frustrating, but he probably doesn’t want to tell me, because I’d keep looking around for them. That’s the way it was with the last Celebrity Dance Hall candidate I worked with, anyway. He didn’t want to tell me when bodyguards were around so I wouldn’t feel so observed.

  “Gavin?”

  “Hmm?” He obviously isn’t thinking about our conversation anymore.

  “Are there bodyguards around?”

  “Yeah, there are a few, but they only get involved if it looks like a dangerous situation,” he answers.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means they help me if some pushy groupie tries to get too close to me.”

  “Or a whole crowd of them,” I murmur.

  “Exactly, but otherwise they stay in the background so I don’t stand out too much. It’s very pleasant just to be myself.” He sighs. “In the last year, that hasn’t been possible very often.”

  Suddenly, a light goes on in my head. Gavin McLeod, a band member who was hit by a car last summer and broke his foot. It was in the news. “How’s your foot, by the way?”

  “Fine, why?”

  “Didn’t you break it? I mean, I heard something like that,” I say.

  “Oh, yeah. The accident. My foot is doing fine, but I haven’t had any days off since those few days in the hospital.”

  “That must be really hard. You can’t even sleep in sometimes.”

  “It is, but I love my job, and I don’t mind living with the inconveniences.” He smiles as he stops in front of the Plaza in a line of yellow taxis. “We’re here.”