My bare foot hit something, and I looked down. A wallet. I bent to pick it up even though I already knew who it belonged to. It was a sign. Now, I had good reason to go, but I wouldn’t wait until tonight. The club probably wouldn't be open on a Sunday morning, but it was as good a start as any.
The bouncer wasn't there when I arrived, so I walked around the building to look for an employee entrance. I still didn't have a plan for what I'd do if no one was there, but I wasn't in a rush. As I neared the back door, however, I saw a woman coming from the opposite direction. She was a little taller than me and probably six or seven years older.
“Excuse me!” I called out as I hurried toward her. “Excuse me, do you work here?”
She looked startled, but not alarmed. “I do. How can I help you?”
“Is Gavin Manning here?”
I felt her stiffen more than I saw it, but I recognized the look in her eyes. Gavin meant something to her. The sunlight glinted off a diamond on her left hand, and intuition told me that she was married to the man I was looking for.
“Who wants to know?” she asked, her tone a little less friendly and a lot more cautious.
“My name's Bryne Dawkins.” I put out a hand.
“Carrie Manning.” She shook mine, but I could see that she still didn't quite know how to take me. “Why do you want to see my husband?”
I was right, and my heart gave a funny skipping beat. I'd been prepared to spend weeks searching at the very least, but instead, I'd accidentally stumbled across the person I'd come here to find.
“It's...complicated,” I said, biting my lower lip, uncertain what to say or even how to begin.
A brisk wind blew through the alley, and I shivered. The expression on Carrie's face softened.
“Come on in.” She swiped a card and then punched a code into the keypad next to the door. She opened it and walked inside.
I followed and found myself in a hallway rather than the open space I'd seen last night. It was dimly lit, but enough that I didn't have a problem following Carrie to a set of stairs that led up to the second floor. I remembered hearing that the upper floor was for VIPs, but Carrie didn't ask me to wait, so I went after her.
We stopped in front of a door, and she knocked, opening the door a moment later. When I stepped inside after her, she moved to the side so I could see the man sitting behind the desk. Dark hair, deep blue eyes. His features weren't familiar, and for a moment, I doubted that he was who I'd come to find, but I'd never know if I didn't speak up.
“Gavin, someone's here to see you.” Carrie took off her coat, and I saw that she was pregnant. Probably four or five months. Her winter coat had hidden it. Her hand automatically moved to her stomach as she turned, the gesture protective.
Gavin gave me a puzzled look, but that was no surprise. Even if he knew of my mother's existence, I doubted he'd known of mine. He stood. “Can I help you?”
“I'm Bryne Dawkins.” Straightforward was probably the best way to go with this, but I had a feeling it would come as quite a shock however I worded it. “I'm your niece.”
Gavin's eyes widened, and he looked from me to Carrie and back again. “Say again?”
“I think I'm your niece,” I clarified my statement. “Is your father's name Chauncey Manning?” At his nod, I continued, “And he worked at the US Embassy in Sweden like thirty years ago?”
“Yes.” He gestured to the chair across from him. Carrie moved to lean against him, and he took her hand. “But I'm still lost.”
I sat down and took a deep breath. “My mother's name is Allison, and her parents were Nancy Lyons...and Chauncey Manning.”
Gavin gave his head a little shake. “I'll need a little more than a couple names here, Bryne. My parents never said anything about a half-sister.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out both of the things I'd brought with me. The wallet I set on the desk. The letter, I held out to Gavin.
“After my dad died, my mom and I went to live with my great-grandparents. A few months ago, we were cleaning some things out of an old desk, and we found this letter. Your dad wrote it to my grandmother about thirty years ago. In it, he says that he met someone in Sweden, that they married and had a son. Gavin.”
He unfolded the letter and began to read, so I shut my mouth and let him. For me, this wasn't really a shock. I'd never known my grandfather. Hell, I'd barely known my grandmother, and my memories of her weren't fond ones.
After a couple minutes, he folded the letter back up and held it out to me. When he looked up at me, his expression was unreadable. “I believe you, but I think I'd like a couple minutes to call my dad. He has some explaining to do.”
I nodded and stood. Completely understandable. I glanced down at the desk and saw Dax's wallet. I gestured toward it. “By the way, that belongs to one of your employees. Dax Prevot.”
One eyebrow went up, and something flashed across Gavin's eyes. “May I ask why you have Dax's wallet?”
“Gavin.” There was a note of amusement in Carrie's voice.
I folded my arms and gave him a hard look. “I'm an adult.”
One corner of Gavin's mouth twitched. “Barely.”
Carrie smacked his arm. “You've just met the girl. I think it's a bit early to be going all alpha male on her.”
“Stay away from Dax,” Gavin said, his gaze fixed on me.
I wasn't entirely sure how to take him, but I'd never been one to shy away from asking questions. “Why?”
“Some of his acquaintances aren't exactly the most trustworthy of people,” Gavin said. He glanced at Carrie, who seemed to want to say something, and then added, “And he's not exactly known for his fidelity.”
I rolled my eyes. “If I was looking for a boyfriend, that might be an issue.”
I wasn't going to let myself think about how nice it might be to go to bed with Dax again. I would probably have some other one-night stands, some casual relationships, but my time with Dax was done. I wouldn’t go there again.
Carrie broke the silence before it could become uncomfortable. “Bryne, why don't you and I give Gavin some time alone to make his phone call. If he wants to play overprotective uncle, he can do it later.”
We walked toward the door, and I glanced over my shoulder. Gavin's eyes were fixed on Carrie, and I felt a sharp, painful longing. I'd never been one of those girls who spent time on romantic daydreams, but in that moment, I wanted someone to look at me the way Gavin was looking at Carrie.
“So, Bryne,” Carrie said as we walked into the hallway, “where are you staying?”
Chapter 5
The only thing my newfound uncle told me about his conversation with his father was that I was right, and we were related. I didn't press the issue. If he and my mom wanted to go into detail about their childhood, and the ways their father had screwed them both over, that was between them. I hadn't come to find Gavin for some sort of closure.
I wanted family.
Considering I was staring up at the same ceiling for the third morning in a row, I was pretty sure I'd found it. As soon as I told Carrie that I was staying in a hotel until I could find somewhere more permanent, she'd insisted that I move into the guest room in their loft. I told her that I could afford to stay in a hotel for a while, but when she told Gavin, he made it clear that it was pointless to argue.
I supposed I could've shown them both just how stubborn I was, but if I was completely honest, I didn't want to argue. I liked Carrie and Gavin, and I wanted to get to know them. I'd loved Nana and Papa, and I loved my mother, but I'd always been a little sad about the fact that I didn't have any extended family. The kids from the families who ran in the same social circles as my great-grandparents weren't exactly the friendliest to the daughter of a dead boxer.
Carrie and Gavin were older than me, but not so much that I felt like I had parents hovering. Sure, Gavin was a bit overprotective – he'd stuck to his insistence that I needed to stay away from Dax – but he wasn't condescending ab
out it, so I didn't take offense.
By the time I made my way into the kitchen, I could smell coffee and knew that Gavin and Carrie would be waiting. Since I'd moved in, we'd eaten breakfast together every morning. Because Gavin ran Club Privé, and Carrie had her own law practice, they more or less set their own hours unless they had an appointment scheduled, so we were spending most mornings together. It was a nice combination of getting to know them without being overwhelmed.
“Krissy called,” Carrie said as soon as I came over to the table with my mug of hazelnut coffee.
A flare of hope shot through me, but I kept my expression neutral. When I told Carrie and Gavin that I wanted to pursue a career in acting, I'd expected the same brush off that I'd gotten from my mother and teachers back home. Instead, Gavin had told me to let him know if I wanted any help finding a job that would be willing to work around an acting schedule until I landed a full-time gig, and Carrie had offered to contact one of her closest friends, who apparently ran a talent agency in Los Angeles.
“That was quick,” I said as I sat down across from her.
“When Krissy gets something in her head, she doesn't let go until she gets what she wants.” The amusement on Carrie's face told me that she was thinking of something specific. “Anyway, she gave me a couple names and some casting calls that you might want to check out.” She pushed a piece of paper across the table.
“Thank you so much,” I said. “Seriously, I can't thank you both enough.”
“It's what family does,” Carrie said.
I skimmed the list, my heart skipping a beat when I saw that one of the casting calls was this afternoon. “This is really happening.”
Carrie smiled at me as she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “As soon as you're done, come by the club and tell us how it went.”
“You're sure that's okay?” I glanced at Gavin.
He'd made it clear that he didn't want me at Club Privé, but it hadn't just been him being protective. If word got out that a nineteen-year-old had been drinking in his club, he'd lose his liquor license and possibly even the club itself. He'd given the bartender, bouncer, and Dax all warnings that the next time they didn't check an ID, they'd be fired.
I'd gotten the impression that the warning to Dax was as much about staying away from me as it had been about being diligent regarding keeping people under twenty-one from drinking.
“Come in the service entrance,” Gavin said. “Either Carrie or I should be in the office.”
A few minutes of silence followed his statement, and then I broke it. “Can I ask you a question?”
He glanced up from his tablet and nodded.
“Your parents met in Sweden, right?”
“Yes.”
I hadn't done much questioning about Gavin's past, but I was curious. “How did you end up in New York?”
Gavin straightened so that he could give me his full attention. “My dad's job changed, so he moved us all back here. He worked in New York, but after a couple of months, my mom said she didn't like living in the city. They bought a house in Stamford, Connecticut, and my time was pretty much split between the two. I went to school in Stamford, though, so I consider that my home.”
“And that's where your daughter lives?”
He nodded but didn't elaborate. He didn't need to. I'd gotten enough from Carrie to know not to ask for details. Skylar lived with her maternal grandparents, and though Gavin saw her as much as possible, he hadn't wanted to take her away from the people who'd raised her after her mother died. According to Carrie, Gavin had been too broken up over the death of his childhood sweetheart, Camille, to raise a child and had given custody to Camille's parents.
Some people would see Gavin’s actions as someone shirking their responsibility, but even after just a few days, I knew that wasn't the case. Gavin was the type of man who would do what was right for the people he loved, no matter the cost to himself.
I supposed that was why his warnings about Dax didn't make me mad. I knew Gavin's heart was in the right place.
I didn't ask any other questions as we finished our breakfast. I needed to focus on the audition. It wasn't a huge Broadway production, a new play called Collide, but it would be a foot in the door, and that’s all I really wanted. I didn't have a problem with a little assistance, especially in a world where who a person knew was sometimes more important than their abilities, but I refused to be one of those people who bought or ass-kissed their way into something rather than earning it.
My stomach was in knots when I walked into the room after waiting in line for nearly an hour. The trio of people sitting behind the table in front of me looked completely unenthused at the prospect of yet another actress coming in to read for them, which didn't help matters, but I wouldn’t let it keep me from trying.
For the longest two seconds of my life, I was afraid I'd throw up if I opened my mouth, but then I started to talk, and everything else faded away. I'd auditioned for dozens of roles back home – and gotten a little more than half of them – and even though this production was only a little bigger than any of the ones I'd done in DC, knowing that I was in New York, not that far from Broadway, somehow made it different.
I walked out of the room fifteen minutes later and felt like I was walking on air. I'd nailed it. Of course, the two women and one man who'd been listening to me hadn't said much more than thank you and explained that they'd be making their decision by the end of the week regarding callbacks, but I knew in my gut that I'd been good.
And I was pretty sure I'd seen the one woman crack a smile.
Even if I didn't get the part, I felt better knowing that I could do this. I'd made it through an audition without breaking down, vomiting, or forgetting my lines. That was one of the things I'd been worried about. I never considered myself susceptible to stage fright, but I knew there was a first time for everything. This time, at least, hadn't been it. And I hadn't been told that I was hopeless either, so that was a plus too.
I had the taxi drop me off in front of the club, but I bypassed the front door and headed around back. It was still early enough that the front doors were locked, but even if they'd been open, I'd promised to come in through the side entrance. I didn't want to do anything to get Gavin and Carrie into trouble, not when they'd done so much for me already.
I swiped the card and punched in the code Carrie had given me, then headed toward the stairs and back up to Gavin’s office. The door was closed this time, but the light was on inside, so I knocked. I heard movement, a muttered curse, and then the door opened.
Carrie's face was flushed, her curls disheveled. If that hadn't been enough to tell me that I'd interrupted a...personal moment, the annoyed expression on Gavin's face as he appeared behind her would've done it. The look only lasted a moment after he saw me, then it disappeared behind a smile.
“You look like things went well,” he said as he motioned for me to come in.
“I think they did.” I felt a little awkward, knowing they’d been getting down – hot and heavy if Carrie was any indication – until I’d coitus interrupted them, but I was pretty sure it would be worse if I actually acknowledged it. Granted, the two of them ran a sex club, but that didn't make it any less weird to talk about any of that with them.
“When should you hear if you got it?” Carrie asked.
“They'll decide callbacks by the end of the week.”
She gave me an encouraging smile. “I'm sure they'll ask you to come in again.”
I didn't want to get my hopes up, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling. “Even if they don't, make sure you tell your friend that I really appreciated her telling me about the audition.”
“If you ever decide you want to head out to LA, I'll give you her information.” Carrie glanced over at Gavin. “But tonight, we're going to celebrate.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Celebrate what? All I did was audition. We should save the celebrating until I actually get a part.”
“I
think we should be celebrating your start of a new life here,” she said, her brown eyes shining. “I'm meeting with two of my friends, Dena and Leslie, for dinner. You should come with me.”
“She's underage,” Gavin said quietly.
Carrie glared at him, but even I could see how much she completely adored him. “Don't tell me that, Gavin. You'll ruin my super-secret plan to ply your innocent little niece with alcohol and corrupt her.”
He rolled his eyes while I laughed under my breath.
“Seriously, Bryne, I think you'll like Dena and Leslie. They're great.”
It wasn't like I had anything else planned. The only person other than Carrie and Gavin that I'd spoken more than a couple words to was Dax, and I hadn't seen him since he'd walked out of my hotel room.
“Sure. What time should I be ready?”
Chapter 6
The first thing I noticed when I walked into the restaurant was that I'd seen one of Carrie's friends before but couldn't figure out where. She was a good half foot taller than me, with brilliant red curls and a confidence that was evident even from across the room.
The second thing I noticed was that Carrie made a face as she took the seat next to the red-head, like sitting down was uncomfortable. Before I could ask about it though, Carrie was making introductions.
“Bryne, this is Leslie Calvin and Dena Monroe.”
I hadn't even noticed the other one until now. She was tiny, with short white blonde hair, and a fierce expression that told me it would be a bad idea to mess with her.
“Girls, this is Bryne Dawkins.”
“Gavin's niece,” Leslie said. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, studying me for a moment before speaking again. “You don't look like him much. Probably a good thing. He'd make an ugly woman.” She shrugged and then raised her hand to flag down a waiter.
“Don't mind Leslie. She basically says the first thing that pops into her head, whether she should or not.” Carrie tossed a sugar packet at Leslie.