The Nearness of You: A British celebrity, standalone love-at-first-sight romance Page 2

  Miles chuckled and kissed her cheek knowingly. “Go get ’em, Lauren.”

  Chapter Two

  It took Lauren several minutes to weave her way through the crowd back to the bar from having to stop several times, thanking the patrons who commended her on a job well done. She didn’t want to be rude, however, she was on a mission to get back to supermodel David Randle. When she finally made it through, the security guard abruptly halted her.

  “I’m sorry miss. No pictures tonight….”

  David’s striking face appeared behind the officer’s shoulder. “Stanley, it’s all right. I’ve been waiting for Lauren.” The officer apologized and took a step back so she could get through to him.

  “Thank you, Stanley,” she offered over her shoulder just as David’s fingers lightly pulled on her hand as he led her into the small, intimate corner.

  “Wow,” he gushed, offering her a bar stool. “You were brilliant, Lauren. Truly brilliant. Your voice is lovely.”

  She sat down and placed her purse on the bar, aware that her cheeks were hot again.

  “Thank you, David.”

  “What can I order you to drink, now that you’re through working?” He seemed to be interested in her, which was a crazy notion. With absolutely nothing to lose, she decided to play along, trying hard not to analyze her incredible situation.

  “A glass of Chardonnay would be nice.”

  Quickly, he stood to gain the bartender’s attention. “Tim, the beautiful Lauren would like a glass of your best Chardonnay.” Tim nodded, winking at her.

  She shifted in her seat, doing her best to be fully engaged with David without drifting into a daydream. “So, what brings you to Atlanta?” Her tone was a little too business-like.

  He seemed to relax into the supple leather of the bar stool, resting his elbow on the sturdy arm. “Well, my older sister just so happens to be marrying an Atlanta man this weekend. I am privileged to be one of the groomsmen.”

  “Oh, wow!” She couldn’t actually picture supermodel, David Randle as a groomsman. No doubt, all eyes would be fixated on him at the ceremony and not the bride. “And the wedding is tomorrow?”

  “It’s actually on Sunday. My darling sister planned everything around me because she insisted I be a part of the festivities. You see, I introduced her to the love of her life, Brian. She feels a sort of eternal indebtedness to me which is absurd, really. I do love her though. I am quite fortunate to have her as a sibling.” Leaned back, he ran his index finger up and down his martini glass just as Tim presented her with the glass of wine.

  Boldly, she lifted the crystal and looked him deliberately in the eye. “Cheers.”

  His million-dollar smile caused her heart to skip a beat. “Cheers, Lauren.”

  They both took a sip of their beverages, gazing curiously at one another. She delighted in the crispness of the wine, aware he’d ordered her the most expensive glass on the menu. It was a far cry from her usual ten-dollar bottle of economy wine from the corner liquor store. She was going to savor every drop and every moment with her new acquaintance. Studying his face purposefully, she memorized every detail from his perfect nose and full, pouty lips to his famous blue eyes and arching eyebrows. The man smelled divine and was perfectly put together. Her day that had started out poorly was suddenly turning into a fairy tale ending; their banter turning effortless as they chatted intimately while sipping expensive drinks.

  His sister’s name was Catherine, and she was marrying one of Atlanta’s favorite NASCAR drivers, Brian Brady. David was an avid racing fan himself and the two met at the Atlanta Motor Speedway, immediately hitting it off. Brian so impressed him that he eventually brought his sister to a race when she was visiting from England and purposefully introduced them. It was love at first sight, and the couple made plans to exchange vows at the 1920s Callanwolde mansion in Atlanta that was listed on the National Historic Registry.

  “The home is magnificent. It reminds me of England with its gardens and Tudor revival style. It really is the perfect place for my sister to marry Brian.”

  Lauren nodded in agreement. “Callanwolde is an awesome space. I’ve sung there for several weddings and corporate events.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded again, taking a sip of wine. “They have an historic Aeolian organ that’s pretty major. Is your sister incorporating organ music into her ceremony?”

  David furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure. I hope so, because it sounds magnificent.”

  “The sound is magnificent. It’ll take your breath away.” Staring at him, she felt her own breath momentarily leave her body again. “I’m glad I met you tonight, David. This day started out kind of bad and has morphed into something really nice.” She continued to look up at him through her lashes as she took another sip of wine, pure contentment washing over her.

  “And why did your day start so poorly?” He leaned his elbow on the mahogany wood and propped his chin on his hand. His brow furrowed with genuine concern.

  The wine had done wonders to settle her inhibitions, and she proceeded to go into a long monologue about how her roommate had forgotten to pay their electric bill and she woke up with the no electricity, freezing from the lack of heat. How her favorite show dress had been “lost” at the local dry cleaners, and the depressing phone call from her mother and father who lived four hours away in Valdosta, Georgia. She hadn’t been able to visit them in ages because of her sporadic work schedule and they had a knack for making her feel extremely guilty about it. At least her married younger sister lived nearby and had a baby last year. Her nine-month-old nephew, Jackson, was a great diversion, keeping the depressing phone calls from happening too often.

  “I work mostly on the weekends. My parents are college professors at Valdosta State University, so they work during the week. It’s kind of a scheduling nightmare. I’ll get down there soon, I hope.” Draining the last golden sip of her drink, she set the empty glass on the bar. David raised his index finger for Tim to see and he immediately poured her another glass.

  “What do your mother and father teach at university?” he asked.

  A genuine smile immediately crossed her lips. “Theater. My mother is an acting teacher and directs most of the musicals. My father has his doctorate in Theater History.” She giggled thinking about her father. Her parents were hippies in the 1970s and true lovers of the arts. They were gifted teachers and nationally recognized for their charitable work involving wannabe actors from impoverished areas of the Deep South. She had always been extremely proud of them and honored to be their daughter. She just wished they understood she was trying to make it on her own in the business. If they had it their way, she’d be immersed in set building and costume design for an upcoming production at the college, or becoming a high school or college teacher herself.

  “Enough about me. How did you get started in your business?” Lauren asked curiously.

  “I thought the whole world knew how I got started,” David replied sarcastically.

  “I don’t.”

  Cocking his head, he seemed surprised by her comment. “Well, some of my friends entered me in a local modeling competition on a popular British TV program. My appearance on the show resulted in a contract with a UK management agency that still represents me today.”

  Lauren stifled a giggle. “So, you basically won a beauty pageant.”

  David chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Perhaps. It wasn’t all flowers and tiaras, mind you.”

  “I can’t imagine you in a tiara, although, it would probably look better on you than on me, no doubt.”

  He shook his head, as if humored by her teasing. “Believe it or not, it was quite difficult at first. I didn’t fit in with the trend of the skinny, androgynous guys who had bodies like the girls. I worked out a lot and I had muscles, which were really not the style in those early days.”

  “Muscles are ten times better than skin and bones,” she interjected exuberantly.

  He offered her a gratefu
l smile. “A high fashion vendor helped me break the mold of the male model stereotype of the time. Since then, it’s been a pretty intense adventure.”

  Holding her glass up in the air, she jutted her chin out with purpose. “Cheers to muscles.”

  He raised his glass next to hers. “And to lovely singers.”

  Lauren blushed, looking him directly in the eye. They stared at each other for a lingering moment before taking a sip. When she looked away, she noticed the entire bar was empty. “Where did everybody go?” she wondered out loud. “What time is it?” Pulling her cell phone out of her tiny purse, she was shocked to see it was close to 1:00 a.m. Their conversation had been effortless.

  “Have I kept you from anything? From anyone?” He was digging in a subtle way, which touched her.

  “Oh, no. I just don’t want to keep you, David. Don’t you have to get your beauty sleep or get up early and work out?” Her tongue was heavy after the two glasses of expensive wine, and she couldn’t help but ramble.

  David chuckled, shaking his head, and she watched his every, graceful move as he signed the tab, handing it to Tim who thanked him profusely for the obviously big tip. She swallowed hard, realizing that this time, these really were her last moments with him.

  He stood and extended a firm hand to help ease her out of her seat, his skin warm to the touch. “Shall I call you a cab?”

  She couldn’t help the slight frown when their fingers disengaged. “No, thank you. I have my car parked in valet parking. I don’t live far from here.”

  They walked side by side down the corridor toward the magnificent lobby of the hotel, the chandelier gleaming like giant diamonds in the sun. Because it was so late, the lobby was deserted except for a lone employee behind the marble check-in desk. Classical music was piped in from hidden speakers, Debussy’s Claire de Lune playing softly in the background. Lauren fetched a valet ticket from her purse and shyly looked up at the 6’3” supermodel. The moment was almost too perfect—a gorgeous man smiling down at her in a stunning hotel lobby, one of her favorite classical songs humming through her being and the taste of expensive wine on her lips. She had to remind herself to breathe as he took the valet ticket from her hand, his chivalry on full display.

  “I’ll be right back.” He exited the lobby out the front doors into the brisk February night and handed the ticket over to the valet team. As he came back inside, he vigorously rubbed his hands together.

  “It’s quite chilly, Lauren. Don’t you have a jacket?” His features seemed creased with what looked like concern.

  She nodded, bashfully. “My coat is on the front seat. It didn’t really match my outfit tonight.” She left out the part about her broken car heater, and that her coat was a huge North Face jacket she used to keep her warm on the short drive to her apartment.

  Wanting to repay him for his kindness, she continued. “Do you need a ride anywhere?” As soon as she said it, she knew this was a man who didn’t have a want for anything in life. His genuine smile melted her heart, seemingly touched by her gesture as he reached out to caress her long, golden hair that fell over one shoulder, the piano music floating around them like a heavy, exotic perfume.

  “I’m actually staying here at the St. Regis and will be for the next few days. I appreciate the offer though.”

  He was a guest of the hotel. Well, that was convenient. Her car appeared in front of the lobby doors, puffs of smoke blowing out the tailpipe. She offered David one last smile. “Thank you so much for tonight. I really enjoyed talking with you… and meeting you.” She paused, unsure if she should utter her next sentence. “I’m a huge fan.” Immediately, she internally scolded herself as soon as she said it. What a dumb thing to say….

  David looked at the floor momentarily, his gaze traveling up her legs to her face. “It is I who am a fan, beautiful Lauren.” Taking a step toward her, he placed his large hands on her shoulders, and leaned in to kiss both of her cheeks. “Thank you for the song dedication.” His hands lingered a few seconds more before they released.

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered, realizing she’d been holding her breath, yet again. Taking the gorgeous man in one last time, she forced herself to turn to leave, feeling like she could burst into tears; her beautiful night coming to an end. Before she caused an embarrassing scene, she quickly ducked into her car and shrugged on the heavy jacket that felt like a giant ice block. Putting the car in drive, she gripped the steering wheel and was about to pull away when there was a tapping on her window. Quickly, she put the car in park and looked up to see David’s face, his eyes deep, dark pools of blue. Her smile was immediate as she swiftly hand-cranked the window down.

  “I’m such a fool,” he lamented. “I want to see you again, Lauren. Is that possible?”

  “Y-yes…,” she mumbled, her eyes big as the moon.

  He exhaled in the cold air expelling a cloud of breath. “Thank God! Are you available in say….” he looked at his expensive watch, “…six and a half hours? I’d like to take you out for breakfast, yes?”

  All she could do was nod enthusiastically like a bobble-head doll, causing him to puff out his chest and gift her with his million-dollar smile. “Well then, meet me back here in the lobby at half past seven.” She continued to nod, which made him laugh. “Perfect. I look forward to the hours of sleep passing quickly so that I can experience the nearness of you once again.”

  Before she could audibly respond, he leaned into the car window and grazed his lips against her cheek before slowly walking backward to the lobby, his large frame silhouetted by the flickering flames of the gas lanterns on either side of the door. “Adieu, Lauren.” Blowing her a kiss, he turned and was out of sight.

  “Adieu,” she whispered bringing her hand to her cheek where his lips had touched her skin.

  Chapter Three

  Lauren slept fitfully for a few hours, tossing and turning in her bed, willing herself to relax. But the image of David Randle’s smiling face was fixated in her mind like a camera reel, the anticipation of seeing him again keeping her wide awake. She finally threw the covers back in the dark and gruffly got out of bed. The sunrise was still hours away as she showered, lathering her body with her most expensive body wash she saved for special occasions. Clean and warm from the ample hot water, she wrapped herself in a thick robe, and impatiently watched her Mr. Coffee dribble black ribbons of caffeine into the see-through pot. Yawning, she was thankful her forgetful roommate had taken care of the electric bill the previous day.

  With a full cup of coffee in hand, she stood in front of her small closet, puckering her lips, and wrinkling her nose at her worn out wardrobe, finally settling on a gray sweater dress with black leggings and vintage, knee-high leather boots. Her honey hair was pulled into a messy bun and she was careful not to over-do her makeup, opting for a more natural look. Chugging her third cup of black coffee, she shrugged on a well-worn bomber jacket and wrapped a plaid scarf around her neck. She grabbed her purse and keys and was out the door into the last hour of dawn.

  The air was frigid and her teeth chattered uncontrollably as she patiently let her car engine warm up. Too bad her heater was of no use. Blowing warm air into her cupped hands, she burrowed into the wool scarf around her neck as she tried to fight off the chill that wanted to settle deep into her bones. Flipping on the headlights, she pulled out of the tight parking space on the side street near her apartment and cranked the AC to get the defrost to work, the wipers making a horrible screeching sound in an attempt to clear the icy design that had formed across the glass. The street lamps made giant orbs of light through the frost, making her windshield look like a cracked, frozen pond. She seriously needed to get her heater fixed, the fear of freezing to death on the forefront of her mind.

  The St. Regis was less than four miles from her apartment, and she decided to find a spot in the parking garage and not use the valet because she wasn’t actually working. This was a visit. A visit with supermodel, David Randle. Every time Lauren thou
ght about him, images of his gorgeous face clouded her vision, making her heart palpitate. Pulling into a space close to the elevator, she quickly shifted the car into park and swiped her lips with a dab of lip gloss. One more fuss of her hair, and she was out of her freezer on wheels, anxious to get her cold limbs into the warm lobby. Her boots made a clipping sound as she walked across the cement and glanced at her cellphone, pleased with herself she was ten minutes early.

  The pristine marble lobby with its intricate black-railed staircase was exactly how it had been the night before—empty. Lauren found a comfortable, tufted white chair near the front desk and sat down, her back erect and hands folded primly into her lap. She nervously tapped her leather boot, anticipating her reunion with David, second guessing whether or not that third cup of coffee had been a good idea. Inhaling deeply, she couldn’t help but stare with wide eyes up at the massive, crystal chandelier, and thank the universe for her current situation.

  At exactly 7:25 a.m., David Randle glided into the lobby with ease. The supermodel wore an unbuttoned, dark pea coat over fitted blue jeans and a black turtleneck sweater looking like he’d just stepped out of the pages of a glossy, high class men’s catalogue. Her breath caught in her chest and she felt a slight tingle in her tummy. As he came toward her, he offered a crooked smile and raised eyebrow.

  “A girl who can sing and be on time.” He reached with both hands to help her up, and she couldn’t help but blush as he kissed her cheeks. “Very impressive. How are you?” He palmed the sides of her arms.

  “I’m good… good morning,” she answered breathlessly.

  He started to button up his coat. “Good morning, Lauren. You look beautiful as always.”

  “Thank you. You do too.” Ugh… another dumb reply on her part. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her bomber jacket, internally scolding herself. “So… where would you like to go for breakfast?”