She giggled. Her tummy was full, and she was content to stare across the table at her dream man. “The food definitely made up for that. And you still look remarkable, even in this harsh light.” There probably wasn’t any kind of lighting that would make supermodel David Randle look bad.
Walking along the bustling sidewalk through Chinatown next to the restaurants, trendy tea and touristy gift shops, they held hands, lost in a sea of people who didn’t give them a second glance. They took in the vibrant sights and the sounds of the Cantonese language and traffic noises snuggled close to each other in the February night. He pointed out the numerous green grocers, fish mongers and cramped tenement buildings, informing her that Chinatown had the highest concentration of Chinese people in the Western Hemisphere. She loved his affinity for history and his knowledge impressed her. They stopped at an ice cream vendor and tried a wasabi flavor, David laughing out loud when she scrunched up her nose, not liking the strong pungency of the green treat. When their gait slowed, the car service seemed to show up out of nowhere on a random street corner, whisking them back through the city toward the hotel.
Lauren wrapped her hands around his sturdy bicep, burrowing into his warmth, and laid her head on his shoulder. The city lights were like strobes darting in and out of the dark interior of the car as they headed north. Cocking her head, she studied his masculine profile, his jaw line prominent and defined as he looked out the window. Once again, his strong hand was rubbing her thigh back and forth, back and forth. She wondered what he was thinking—if he was happy he had an evening with no one screaming his name or groping him—happy to be anonymous among the throngs of people enjoying an ordinary night out with her. He shifted, pulling her closer into his chest. She sighed, savoring their intimacy, wishing she could feel the nearness of him forever.
Chapter Sixteen
Tiny snowflakes dotted the blue-gray sky, floating from the heavens and melting on the asphalt streets below in front of the hotel. Lauren wrapped her hands around a porcelain mug of coffee trying to warm up and peered out the window at the show Mother Nature performed, her eyes following the flakes from sky to earth. She was naked underneath the complimentary Plaza Hotel robe, having just showered, and David had gone on a quick run through the park, trying to get his workout in before the weather became too dreadful.
Their date night had been extraordinary. She blushed as she thought about the elevator ride up to his suite after the car service dropped them off. David couldn’t keep his hands off her. What started out as gentle kissing quickly escalated into a full-blown make-out session between floors two and eleven. They groped each other, making their way to the door of the hotel room, not able to keep their hands to themselves. When the door clicked shut, shoes were flung, coats were thrown, and clothing was on the floor in a matter of seconds. His hungry mouth consumed her while guiding her to the Chesterfield chair in the dark where he bent her over, and thrust them both to the edge of oblivion.
He was gentle and aggressive in his passion—something she had to admit, she liked. A lot. Sipping from her mug, she wished they could lounge in the king-sized bed all morning, but he had scheduled public relations activities to attend, promoting his new fragrance, Drive. He had a definite hit on his hands, she was sure of it. Drive just about drove her wild. She was a walking testament to what he’d created and hoped the world would agree once it launched.
The keypad on the door beeped and David came through, pulling a damp hoodie from the sweatshirt off his head. His cheeks and nose were red from the cold.
“Did you freeze?” Lauren asked with concern.
He shook his head as he sat on the couch and pulled off his running shoes. “No. It’s not bad. None of the snow is sticking to the ground yet. It really is quite beautiful coming down in the park. But it’s a good thing the snow came today and not yesterday. We couldn’t have pulled off the shoot in wet conditions.” He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her with a slight grin on his face.
“What?” she asked, not sure what his look indicated.
“Have I told you how completely gorgeous you are today?”
Her eyebrows rose at his compliment. She didn’t have a stitch of makeup on and her hair was still damp from the shower. What he saw in her in that moment, she didn’t know.
When he pulled his sweatshirt up and over his head revealing a thin Under Armor shirt that outlined his incredible muscles, her breath hitched, and she decided she could never get tired of looking at him. Tossing the sweatshirt across the room, he approached her slowly, like a hungry cat on the prowl. She couldn’t help but step back, unsure of what he was up to. Taking the cup out of her hands, he set it on the nearby table. They stared into each other’s eyes and the closer he got, the stronger the muskiness of his sweat mixed with the lingering scent of his cologne became. He ran his hands up and down the lapels of her robe.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, her breath intensifying.
A naughty smile pulled on his lips as he jerked the lapels apart, revealing her bare breasts.
“David….”
Placing his index finger over her lips, he leaned forward and made a trail of kisses down to her exposed chest and nipples, tugging and pulling on them with his mouth and teeth. He squeezed her breasts, making her throw her head back in ecstasy.
“Oh, David… your nose… it’s so cold…!”
He pulled at the tie on the robe, pushing it off her shoulders and stepped back, his chest heaving as if he’d just finished running. She stood there, naked before him in front of the large, unobscured window.
“People can see…,” she whispered, tempted to grab the robe pooled at her feet.
“Gorgeous, I tell you.” He pulled his thin shirt up and over his head and shimmied out of his running pants, standing before her, wearing nothing but ankle socks.
She stifled a giggle before he pounced, having his way with her on the floor of the Carnegie Suite.
***
The waiting room at a small studio in the fashion district near Madison Square Garden was empty and sterile—two modern black chairs the only furniture in the space. Lauren nervously tapped her Valentino boot on the tiled floor, waiting for David’s assistant, Sabrina Watson, to meet her. He had dropped her off on his way to a radio show he was the guest of and promised to meet her back at the hotel, dressed and ready to go before the GQ awards they were attending that night. Kissing her hard on the mouth, he told her she was in good hands with the glam squad, and that they would spoil her like a real supermodel. She hoped so. She’d never been more nervous in her entire life.
“There you are!” Sabrina quipped walking right past her toward a closed door with a large sign, “Authorized Personnel Only.” Lauren quickly stood and tried to keep up with the skinny blonde as she burst through the opening.
“How are you, Sabrina?” she asked, trying to be friendly.
“Very well, thank you.”
Lauren continued to follow Sabrina down a long hallway to a set of French doors.
“Entre!” She opened the doors that led into a brightly lit space devoid of any color. Everything in the room was black, gray, and white, including a long wardrobe rack of several floor-length gowns. A makeup chair sat by the only window in the space and two tables held several pairs of shoes, bags, and jewelry on full display.
“Wow!” Lauren whispered, taking it all in.
Sabrina looked at her watch. “So, hair and makeup will be here soon and I was just informed that the designer of your one-of-a-kind gown you will be wearing tonight might stop by.”
“One-of-a-kind?” she gasped.
“Yes. He’s an up and coming designer. Rather eccentric, but he knows his shit. David was actually quite fond of his creations during New York Fashion week last year. He said they reminded him of the Great Gatsby era. A favorite book and movie of his, which I’m sure you’re aware of. The Robert Redford version, of course.”
“Of course,” she replied. Her heartbeat sl
owed with relief, knowing she was going to be outfitted in something David was already fond of.
“I’m leaving you in good hands. The car service shall be back to fetch you by 6:30 p.m. That should give you plenty of time to rendezvous with David at the Plaza and maybe have a drink or two before your 7:30 p.m. departure to the awards ceremony.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?”
Sabrina nodded. “So much going on. You don’t need me hanging around watching. The girls will take good care of you. Enjoy your transformation.” She raised a thin eyebrow and smirked before turning to leave.
“Thank you. Thank you so much, Sabrina. I just can’t thank you enough,” she stammered, trying to befriend her boyfriend’s icy assistant.
Sabrina paused in the doorframe, a look of hesitation crossing her face. “Well then. Have a wonderful evening. Cheerio!” The no-nonsense assistant exited as quickly as she had arrived.
“Good-bye!” Lauren called after her, waving. She was feeling giddy and started to look through the gowns on the wheeled clothes rack. Some of them were way over the top while others appeared very matronly, making her uneasy. She sighed, willing herself to relax and enjoy the moment. These people were professionals. Of course, they knew what they were doing….
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” Lauren hollered.
Two, friendly young ladies dressed in head-to-toe black entered, looking like they had just stepped out of a trendy SoHo dance club. Their hair and makeup was flawless, and they immediately took her under their wing, doting and complimenting her natural beauty. David was correct. She was in good hands.
Chapter Seventeen
David paced in the sitting room and glanced at his designer watch every few seconds. Lauren was late. He tried to call and text her several times, but she couldn’t be reached. He figured she was having much too good of a time getting dolled up, her cell phone probably at the bottom of her purse. Sipping on a glass of white wine, he thought he heard a light knock on the door. Quickly, he set the stemware down and rushed to open it, his handsome face displaying a brilliant smile.
“There you are!” he exclaimed as he opened the door wide before sucking in his breath. His entire face fell, not prepared for what stood before him. Lauren was unrecognizable.
Suddenly, she rushed into the suite bumping his arm to get by, not saying a word, and throwing her bag onto the couch. David shut the door and exhaled, the realization hitting him squarely in the chest—his team had sabotaged their evening.
Lauren stopped in the middle of the room wringing her hands in front of her. Her voice quivered as she spoke. “Sabrina said you were a fan of this designer. She said you told her his creations reminded you of your favorite Robert Redford movie, The Great Gatsby. I trusted them, David. But there’s no way in hell I’m accompanying you to the awards show looking like this.”
He stood several feet from her taking it all in and couldn’t find the words to comfort her; to apologize for what his team had done.
“Please say something,” she whispered as big, black tears rolled down her face.
The poor girl was wearing a dismal, gray, floor-length gown with a high collar covering most of her skin. Long, stringy fringe hung off the neck-line and shoulders down to her breasts. It was ill-fitted and did nothing to enhance her figure. Black lace “Madonna” gloves with the fingers cut out were on her hands and several chunky, silver bracelets jingled up her arms. Her makeup was Gothic—heavy, dark eyeliner outlining her eyes and grey lips. There was not a trace of color, not a hint of the beautiful Lauren Rose in the woman that stood before him. He was most concerned about her honey-colored hair. It was either pinned up with a thousand pins or cropped short, one lone curl plastered to the middle of her forehead embellished with a flapper headband in gaudy, fake rhinestones.
“Your hair…,” he started uneasily.
“It’s pinned.” She uttered, nervously reaching a shaky hand to her head as if feeling a thousand bobby pins. “I’m sorry.” She broke down, her knees buckling from under her, collapsing onto the carpet with her head in her hands.
David rushed to pull her into his arms. “Oh, Lauren. Hush, darling… it’s all right. It’s not as bad as it seems,” he tried to reassure her.
“Yes! It is! The look on your face said it all. I knew this wasn’t a look you’d be fond of, but I was too embarrassed to stop them.” She sobbed while he rocked her back and forth in his arms. He tried to stroke her hair but was met with the sharp edges of hundreds of pins holding her golden locks in place, plastered with hairspray.
He pulled her back from his chest and lifted her chin with his fingertips offering a sympathetic smile. The Gothic makeup was nothing but black smears running down her cheeks.
“They didn’t even have the decency to give me waterproof mascara,” she bemoaned in another burst of tears, hiding her face with her gloved hands.
David was beside himself. “Lauren. Please, don’t cry. We can fix this.” He helped her up into a standing position. “And for the record, I never told Sabrina I was a fan of this designer. I told her his creations looked like repulsive Great Gatsby zombies!” He couldn’t believe Sabrina had deliberately done this, lying to Lauren on top of it. This news brought about another burst of fresh tears.
“I’m a repulsive zombie.” she sobbed.
He started to lead her into the master bathroom, determined to repair the situation when the hotel phone started to ring.
“Blasted!” he yelled, quickly answering it. “Yes?” He listened as the concierge informed him their limo was waiting. They had run out of time.
“I will be there momentarily.” He slammed the phone down.
Lauren stood in the doorway with two smudged eyes watching him, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, keeping her sobs at bay.
“You have to go,” she murmured, the look on her pitiful, makeup-stained face ghostly.
“I don’t have to,” he replied. He started to take off the bow tie of his Ralph Lauren tuxedo. He didn’t have to do anything but console her. “Screw the award.”
“No! David, you have to go! They’ll blame me.” Her lower lip trembled as she steadied herself against the doorframe.
Closing his eyes in defeat, he started to rub the back of his neck.
“Can’t you see? This isn’t going to work.”
“What?” His eyes opened quickly. He couldn’t have heard her correctly.
“It’s not going to work, David. There will always be someone out there that doesn’t want me near you. Your assistant, your fans. What will they do to me the next time?”
“No! Stop….” He went to her, drawing her into his chest and squeezing her tightly. “Believe me, there will be repercussions for everyone’s actions,” he whispered into her ear before pulling back and placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. “I will not tolerate bullying on my team whatsoever. You didn’t do anything to deserve this, do you understand?”
She looked at him forlornly, not saying a word, which made his heart ache.
“We can make this work. Screw every last one of them. This is between you and me, no one else. Please, don’t give up.” He kissed the curl on her forehead with new-found energy. “Now, I want you to get out of this horrific zombie costume and take a nice, long, hot bath. I’ll order you room service and buckets of champagne you can devour whilst I’m collecting my little award across town.” Turning her around gently, he unzipped the ugly dress all the way down her back. Palming her delicate skin, he whispered, “And when I get back, I shall make it up to you until the sun rises. Agreed?” His lips made a trail of kisses down her neck across her shoulder blades, making her shiver. She held the dress up with both hands at her breasts, sighing from his touch.
“Agreed?” he whispered again, desperate for her reply.
Her nod was slight, which helped to ease the rage that festered in his being.
***
Sitting in th
e back of the limo weaving in and out of traffic, David Randle stewed. He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle seeing his assistant upon arrival, fearing he may erupt in a tirade of obscenities for what she had put Lauren through. He sipped on a glass of amber cognac, mulling over the evening ahead, deciding he would leave directly after receiving his award. There would be no after parties or post-ceremony interviews. He would come directly back to the Plaza and be with the girl who was stealing his heart. His insides quivered, thinking about her, his mind flooded with thoughts of a future together. It had been a very long time since he’d invested so much time and effort into a relationship. His fondness for Lauren was unexpected and had him contemplating everything.
Lauren was right to question what would happen the next time someone didn’t want her near him. This troubled him deeply. Moving forward, if he wanted this relationship with Lauren Rose to work, he would have to diligently surround her with only those whom he trusted. Shaking his head with disappointment, he knew that might not include one Sabrina Watson, who’d been with him since his humble beginnings. Why she would deliberately pull something like this, destroying their bond of trust in the process, he would never understand.
The car slowed near the entrance to the convention center where the GQ awards ceremony was taking place. Mobs of people dressed to the nines were milling about on the red carpet. News crews and the paparazzi were out in full force, flashes of light going off every second as photographers scrabbled to get the perfect shot. The limo door opened and David effortlessly slid out, adjusting his bow tie and taking a deep breath in an effort to ease his disappointment without Lauren on his arm. He sighed, offering an intense gaze into the crowd of photogs who clambered to get a shot of the famous supermodel who never smiled.
A flustered little man in a wrinkled tux and holding a walkie-talkie approached him, quickly letting him know where his seat was in the auditorium. He urged him to hurry because the ceremony was about to start. David nodded, adjusted his black tux jacket, and glided into the building without so much as a hello to the media. Normally, he would have stopped and chatted, self-promoting his brand in an effort to gain as much publicity as he could. He wasn’t in the mood tonight and to top it off, he was late. As hard as he had worked to gain the notoriety that followed him everywhere he went, it wasn’t going to happen.
The Nearness of You: A British celebrity, standalone love-at-first-sight romance Page 11
