22
GAVIN
Opening the social season in the Hamptons was a pastime that I didn’t think could be improved. Then, I stashed Whitley Bowen in the passenger seat of my black Jaguar convertible with the top down and blasted music, and we sang at the tops of our lungs the entire way out of the city. Her sweet voice the tune for the drive. Her mermaid hair blew wild and free as we turned toward the Hamptons.
“You’ve really never been here for the start of the season?” I asked her as we crawled through the busy streets in Friday afternoon traffic.
“Never. I’ve been out here a few times over the summer, but I usually decide to work instead.”
“You’ll love it. Bringing Manhattan to the Hamptons is always a treat.”
“If it’s all the same people, I don’t get what the big deal is.”
“Mostly to escape
