Gavin: Pure Passion (Hamptons Book 1) (10 page)

“We’re allowed to dream.”

“True, and that’s why we’re going to win the damn thing, too.” My giggle stops short as Jonah bends over me. “What are you doing?”

“We wanted to talk about what happened on Friday, and I want to know if you’re going to give me another chance, Lane,” he replies, bending down close to my lips.

“Jonah, it was you who ditched me, and I don’t know why you even want another chance.”

“I can’t live without you, Lane,” he whispers, moving in for a kiss. Then I turn my head aside.

I slide out from under him and sit up when I have enough space. “You left me when I needed you most . . . We have no chance, because I’ll always remember that. And maybe . . . maybe you’ll leave again when things get tough.”

“I won’t.” He sounds very convincing, that’s one of his talents. Jonah can talk total bullshit, and anyone will believe him.

I don’t want that anymore, because I’ve been there too often and always regretted it. “Giving each other a second chance won’t help. Let’s just be friends, OK?”

“And if I fight for you?”

“I don’t think that’s a fight you can win,” I say seriously. “Besides, I don’t want to be a trophy.”

“I don’t think of you that way at all, but you can’t just throw away all the time we’ve spent together,” he says, looking at me pleadingly.

I shake my head. “It wasn’t me who threw it away, it was you, Jonah. You walked out on me when I really needed you. I don’t want you anymore.”

“Ouch.”

“It also hurt when you left me, but the pain fades after a while,” I say softly and stand up. “I’m going home now. You know I live further away than you do.”

Jonah stands up, too, and looks at me questioningly. “Shall I drive you?”

“I’m here with my car, but thanks anyway.”

“That old pile of junk?”

“Tiffy still runs, OK? And as long as she runs, she’ll be my baby, no matter how ready she is for the scrapyard.”

“Sure. Then have a safe trip home, and please let me know when you arrive. You know I don’t like it when you’re driving around in that car,” Jonah says, this time with real concern.

“OK, I’ll call you,” I say, and hug him good-bye. “I’ll see you at the costume fitting.”

I leave the dance room with a smile on my face, and make my way home. It did me good to get all that out of my system. Besides, it helps if there’s nothing unresolved between us during the competition. It’s the first time we’ll be competing again since we became national champions. I have a really good feeling about it, even though we’ll be up against some of the best dancers in the world.

Chapter 7

Two weeks later

“Hello?” I say, answering my phone.

“Miss Madeleine Dubois?” a female voice asks.

“Yes, with whom am I speaking?”

“My name is Kerry Greene. I’m the production manager for
Celebrity Dance Hall
. I’m calling because we need you as a stand-in. One of the featured dancers injured herself, and now we need a replacement as soon as possible, because she’s in the hospital. We’d like you to take her place.”

I’m all ears, because this could save my lousy summer. After I fought with Gavin—weird, that sounds like we were a couple—everything started falling apart. Jake had to cancel my classes again, because he’s deep in debt and there’s no way the school is going to float without making more cuts. At the dance show, I crossed paths with Gavin a few more times, but he didn’t even bother to look at me. Today is Monday, and Saturday is the next show. It’s dedicated to Brooke. Jonah and I are supposed to dance in her honor.

“Miss Dubois?” She reminds me she’s waiting for an answer.

“Uh . . . sorry, I was thinking about something. Of course I’ll do it.”

“I’m happy to hear that! I’ll send you a list of all the participants and their addresses by e-mail so you can get in touch with anyone you need to. And you’ll receive all the information for the coming show.”

“Thanks so much, Mrs. Greene.”

I end the conversation and look out my bedroom window. I’m in my parents’ house. After Jake canceled my classes, I came here. I only drive to New York now when the show is being recorded, and I come directly back afterward. I like the peace and quiet in the Hamptons, but my car—an ancient Ford Fiesta that’s ready for the scrap heap—doesn’t deal with the trip very well. I have a feeling it won’t be long before I have to buy a new car.

“Mom, Dad!” I cry excitedly, and run down the stairs.

My father walks toward me. He’s been sitting on the back porch. “What’s gotten into you, Madeleine?”

I jump from the bottom step into his arms. “I’m in the show! Dancing with one of the candidates!” I say happily. After the fiasco at the competition, where I fell because Jonah made a misstep, this is really a ray of hope.

“That’s wonderful! I’m very happy for you, sweetie.” He laughs and swings me around in the high entry hall. My parents are very wealthy, but I got tired of depending on them and decided to try to make my way on my own. I only accept money from them in serious emergencies. Every time I do it’s like torture for me. At least with the little bit Jake was able to pay me, I managed to cover my share of the electricity and water bills for the apartment. Thank God I don’t have to worry about having enough for paying the rent in time now, thanks to
CDH
. At least for the next three months.

My father puts me down. “Your mother is at her book club meeting.”

“OK, but then the two of us have to celebrate. Wine for you, a Diet Pepsi for me, and a thick pizza from Marco’s.”

“You know my doctor says I shouldn’t eat fatty foods,” he tells me, dismissing the idea.

“Really, now? You aren’t allowed to sin even once? What about our living room picnics? Does it always have to be raw vegetables and sauerkraut juice, like last time?” I put my hands on my hips. “That one time was really enough, I have the feeling I’m still peeing the stuff.”

Dad starts to laugh. It’s so loud that it rings through the entry hall and infects me, as well. “OK, you get your pizza, but I’m ordering a salad for me. Deal?”

“OK, as long as we tell Mom that you ate half the pizza,” I say with a wink.

“You shouldn’t always tease your mother, Lane,” he scolds me, but I can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Usually, she deserves it.” I walk into the kitchen giggling, and get the cordless telephone. Sometimes I think this house is behind the times, because most of its rooms have those old-fashioned things with dials on them.

After I’ve ordered from Marco’s Pizza, my father and I sit down in the living room. We sit in front of the fireplace like we used to, and talk.

“Do you know who you’ll be dancing with yet?” he asks.

“I have no idea. But since we’re already to the third show, it can’t be the worst of them,” I reply, taking a closer look at my dad. He’s looking older recently, which is surely because his heart is working too hard. At his company, which has something to do with software, a substitute has taken over for a while now. It’s my half brother Etienne, actually, whom I get along with really well. But we don’t have much in common. He’s older than me, from my father’s first marriage. “How’s the company doing?”

“Very well. Etienne is doing a good job, and he always calls me if he needs help with something.”

I suppress a grin. “Have there been any catastrophes?”

“You’re such a little devil, Madeleine. Your brother has everything under control, but sometimes he needs help with the company intranet.”

The intranet . . . I remember how many problems it caused when they launched it four years ago. In those days, my dad always came home late, my mother was always complaining to me. “Does Etienne come to visit now and then?”

“He wanted to come on the weekend to see you, but now that you’ll be dancing in the show, we’ll all need tickets.” My father’s smile motivates me, and above all gives me courage. He knows what the weekend means to me and what I have to invest in this job, that’s why I’m incredibly thankful that he’s making this little gesture.

I pull my legs up onto the sofa and rest my chin on my knees. “Now don’t act like there are no tickets left,” he jokes. I smile back at him. “You know how much I like to see you dance.”

“I know I chose a completely different path than you would have chosen for me,” I say, suddenly serious.

“Then you’ll go your own way, Madeleine. Of course I’d have preferred it if you’d come home after you finished college, but out there in the big city, you have a lot more chances. Your fall at the last competition wasn’t your fault, and you’ll be better the next time. Now that you have a featured role on the dance show, I’m sure you’ll win this time.”

“I hope so, but that depends on my dance partner’s fans, too.” It’s typical that I think of Gavin again. Based on the jury’s points, he would be somewhere in the middle of the field, but both times he was immediately voted into the next round. It’s actually very good for him, but it will be that much more difficult to dance with any of the other candidates and win. Collum Dougal—a TV host who’s also a candidate—isn’t a fantastic dancer, but he had no trouble getting into the next round, either.

Wayne Peters, a struggling actor who’s had parts in various soap operas, had more difficulties. Only two female celebrities had to leave: a beauty contest winner from a couple of years ago whose name I can’t remember, and an aging singer who can hardly smile because her face is so full of Botox.

“You have fans, too, Madeleine. Get your friends to call in for you. You know that we certainly will.”

“I’ll ask them if they’ll do it. But first, I hope the candidate I have to dance with won’t send me to the hospital like his last partner,” I joke.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t throw you across the studio.” My dad laughs and leans back in his chair.

I grin as he shakes with laughter. “I should check if Mrs. Greene already sent me the information.”

“You have time for that after we eat, Madeleine.”

He’s right. “OK, then I’ll stay here . . . By the way, will you and Mom be staying the weekend in the city, or will you drive back on Saturday night after the show?”

“I think we’ll be driving home on Saturday. Shall we take you with us?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was hoping.” I laugh softly. “It would be great if I could ride with you.”

“I think we’ll take two cars, then. You know how impatient your mother can be, she doesn’t like to wait around.”

I nod. The next moment, the doorbell rings and I hurry to the door. “Hi,” I say to the pizza guy.

“Hi, Lane. Here’s your order,” says Gus. I’ve known him since high school.

“Super.” I smile and take my pizza and Dad’s salad. “Dad, the food’s here!”

“I’m coming!” he answers.

I turn back to Gus. “How are you doing?”

He smiles widely, showing me a row of perfect white teeth. “Really well. And you, Lane?”

“I can’t complain.”

“What brings you here, anyway? I thought you were in the city, dancing in that show.”

“I am, but during the week I’m staying with my parents, because New York is pretty hot right now. And a little depressing.”

“The big city is depressing? For you? I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true, though.”

“Hi, Gus,” my father says as he appears in the door next to me. He hands Gus thirty dollars and takes the food from me.

“I’ll get your change, Mr. Dubois,” Gus says.

“No, it’s fine like that.” Dad smiles and goes back to the living room.

Gus looks at me curiously, and I shrug. “My dad seems to feel generous today.”

“Tell him thanks from me, Lane.”

“Sure thing . . . Have a nice evening, Gus.”

“Bye. It was really nice to see you again.”

“Bye.” I smile and close the door.

When I come into the living room, Dad is sitting on the floor, fishing the tomatoes out of his salad. “Gus was really flirting with you.”

“Was he?” I ask, surprised. I sit down across from him, and pull my pizza over and open the box.

“He was looking at you like he was very interested,” Dad says teasingly.

“He can be interested if he wants, but I’m not, and that’s not changing anytime soon,” I counter.

“Still because of Jonah?”

I sigh. “A little, but mostly because I just want to be single for a while.”

“So, my daughter wants to experiment,” he says, needling me.

I laugh. “No, your daughter just isn’t interested in guys right now who don’t take relationships seriously, anyway.”

“Touché,” he says.

We fall into a comfortable silence as we eat. I’m happy my dad and I are so close. I’m closer to him than I am to my mother. Mom and I tend to quarrel about meaningless things, which takes too much energy and is totally unnecessary. But that happens when two people both have a lot of temperament.

“No, no, no! This can’t be true!” I moan, covering my face with my hands. The e-mail I was waiting for arrived, and it turns out my partner is none other than Gavin McLeod. That’s the worst thing that could have happened. Tomorrow I’m supposed to go see him, which isn’t really a problem, because he doesn’t live very far away, but it still feels like a slap in the face. I would really prefer to cancel, but I really need the money. So I’ll just have to bite the sour apple.

For the last hour, I’ve been trying to decide if it wouldn’t simply be easier just to jump out the window. Gavin and I are supposed to dance together? This is going to be a catastrophe. Maybe he’s already forgotten what happened between us, but I definitely haven’t.

After I print out the information I need, I close my laptop with a resigned sigh and go into the bathroom. A cold shower will probably calm me down. Or even better, a cold bath. In any case, I need a shower because I practiced after we ate. When I was a kid, my dad converted the cellar into a little dance studio for me so I could practice there. I still enjoy using the room, because I can relax better there than anywhere else. OK, on the roof of the building where Macey and I live, it’s also very relaxing. From there, there’s a great view of the stars, which is why I often sneak up to the roof at night. No one but me goes up there, and no one but me knows that I like to hang out up there.

I undress and step under the shower. I turn the water to hot, against my initial intentions, to relax my tense muscles. I let the water flow over my head and try to banish Gavin from my thoughts. It’s enough that I’ll have to see him tomorrow, and from then on every day. I want to win this damn show—I really need the prize money. Gavin will get most of it to donate to charity, but a place in the next season’s shows would be guaranteed to me. Besides, I’d be getting a nice financial bonus, too.

I step out of the shower, dry myself off quickly, and slip into my nightshirt. Then I flip through the stack of papers I printed out earlier and find the contract. I sign it right away so I just have to bring it to the post office tomorrow morning.