Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

  Gretchen had lured me to her place with the promise of a closet full of designer wear. What her bedroom lacked, she made up for with sample sales, eBay finds, designer gifts, and Rent the Runway. It hadn’t been that difficult for her to convince me to come over, though. Once the sun had gone down, I hadn’t wanted to be alone at my apartment.

  “That dress looks amazing on you, but it would look even better with your hair up,” Gretchen said, holding out a tin of bobby pins. “Show off your shoulders.”

  I took the box and glanced at myself in her full-length mirror, smoothing a palm over the short, sleeveless leather dress she’d lent me.

  I stuck a few bobby pins between my teeth and twisted my hair into a bun as Gretchen used her concealer wand to make two triangles under her eyes. “How was your week?” she asked, blending the concealer with a sponge.

  “Good,” I said automatically.

  Except, it hadn’t been good at all.

  The death of a close friend, a harrowing assault, a trip to the police station, and a blow-out fight with the most infuriating, persistent, and handsome man I’d ever met.

  David’s accusation rang through my head.

  “I’m sick and tired of this ‘fine’ bullshit.”

  So far, I’d avoided thinking about all the unwelcome, impudent—and possibly accurate—things David had said by keeping busy with tonight’s event.

  “What was so good about it?” Gretchen asked.

  Filling her in on all of it would only bring down the mood—and invite questions I wasn’t sure how to answer.

  I focused on pinning my hair into place. “I’ll get into it later.”

  She narrowed her eyes on me as she swiped a makeup brush over the contour palette in her hand. “Well, my week actually was good,” she said, expertly transforming her face. “Our biggest client called me ‘talented’ in front of my boss—you know what a witch she can be. Then a headhunter contacted me today. I’m seriously considering leaving, I mean . . .”

  I nodded, but my thoughts wandered. David knew what tonight meant to me. What if he didn’t show? I’d convinced Beman to let me throw this event. It had to go smoothly. Seamlessly. That included an appearance by Beman’s favorite bachelor.

  “And, to top it all off,” Gretchen continued, “you’ll never guess who I hooked up with while you guys were at Andrew’s cabin. One of the hottest guys in Chicago.”

  I swallowed, smoothing the top of my hair to ensure every piece complied. Nobody could compare to David. I envied the carefree way Gretchen shared her life. The fact that she put herself out there, had fun, and didn’t have to answer to anyone.

  It was childish, but if I let myself remember my kiss with David without any guilt, I’d feel just as giddy as she was now. And telling her what’d I’d done would blow her mind.

  “Liv?” she asked, frowning at me in the reflection. “You look like someone just ran over your dog.”

  “Oh.” I attempted a smile. “Sorry. Who was it?”

  She turned in her chair, eyeliner in hand, and glared at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing I want to get into now,” I said, moving to sit on the bed once my hair was up. “Can I borrow your concealer when you’re done?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re already wearing more makeup than usual.”

  I’d done a decent job covering the welt Mark had given me since the bruise hadn’t fully formed yet. “There’ll be photographers at the event,” I explained. “Those cameras pick up everything. So, who’s the guy?”

  Gretchen sighed, no stranger to my deflection. Tonight wasn’t about anything except pulling off a spectacular event. I’d tell her everything when I was ready.

  “Page thirty,” she relented and pointed to the US Weekly I’d tossed on the bed. I picked it up and flipped to the “Celeb Sightings” column. “Which one?”

  “Graham Broderick!”

  My eyes went to the tall, attractive man in a baseball cap and fitted t-shirt with a gym bag over one shoulder. “Whoa. Doesn’t he have a movie coming out? He’s a real celebrity, Gretchen. And so gorgeous.”

  She smiled and turned back to the mirror. “I haven’t even told you the best part. Graham’s my date tonight. That should get you guys some good publicity.”

  It definitely would. I should’ve been elated, but I could only stare at the page. Graham’s chiseled jawline and muscled frame were a good match for David’s classic, indisputable beauty. But in my eyes, the two men didn’t even compare. It just went to show that there was more to David than his looks. His attractiveness somehow grew the more I got to know him. With his eyes on me, nobody else existed. Not to me, but more importantly—not to him.

  “If I see in your eyes all the things you’re too scared to admit one more time, then it’s on . . . I will fight for you with zero regard for the destruction I leave behind.”

  It was the first time I’d truly let myself think of his declaration since I’d stormed away from his car.

  Because it was an unbearable thought that I couldn’t give him what he asked.

  I’d already made my choice. Bill had been nothing but a good husband to me. I couldn’t leave a kind, loving, and understanding man for someone I’d met weeks ago. Someone with whom I’d already experienced fireworks, a passion that had simmered from the start, ignited with our kiss, exploded in more than one volatile argument. David and I fought in ways Bill and I never had.

  Who in her right mind would leave the safety of land and dive headfirst into treacherous waters?

  Gretchen whisked on some mascara, glancing back-and-forth between her reflection and me. She screwed the cap back on, got up, and came to sit by me on the bed. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “You can tell me anything. You know that. Did something happen?”

  I swallowed. I hadn’t let myself think of Davena, either, afraid I’d break down before I made it to the venue. She’d said, in her own way, to quit playing life so safely. David had echoed her, daring me to stop hiding behind “fine.”

  But once I voiced the storm of giddiness, fear, and pressure brewing within me—then my feelings would be real.

  Except, they were real. They had been since the moment I’d laid eyes on David. And it terrified me that everything I’d worked for could be so easily undone.

  If there was one person I could talk to about this, it was Gretchen. Lucy would try to rationalize away my feelings, maybe even scold me for them. But Gretchen never had, and never would, judge me.

  I traced the faint paisley pattern of the comforter between us. “I don’t know how to say it.”

  She took my hand and squeezed it. “Imagine this thing that’s on your mind is a piece of furniture, like a couch.”

  I frowned. “A couch?”

  “It’s way too heavy to carry on your own, right? But I’m here to help, knocking at your front door. If you open it for me, I can come in and lift the other side of the couch.”

  I half-smiled. “And then what?”

  “I don’t know. We move it to another room, one with more light. Or maybe we switch out the pillows. Fuck, we can put it out on the curb for garbage day if you want.”

  I laughed a little. As the tension in my shoulders eased, I blew out a breath and opened the front door. “I—there’s this man,” I said. “And I’m attracted to him. I’m attracted to someone else.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Gretchen placed her free hand over her heart and exhaled. “You scared me for a second there. I thought it was something really bad, like Bill got you pregnant.”

  I smiled, though I suspected she was partly serious. “It is bad,” I said. “What I’m feeling . . . it’s more than an attraction.”

  “Like what? You want to jump this guy’s bones?” She rolled her eyes. “That’s perfectly normal. To be honest, it’s more abnormal that you’ve never experienced that. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can’t look.”

  I shifted on the bed, grasping for the right words. “I’ve encountered
plenty of attractive men. Especially in my line of work,” I said. “This is different, Gretch. I’m—I’m falling for him. I have feelings for him.”

  It was the first time I’d let myself think it in such black-and-white terms. And definitely the first time I’d said anything like it aloud. I didn’t expect it to feel so true.

  “Falling for him?” Gretchen’s eyebrows cinched before her expression eased with understanding. “For real? Wow.”

  “Yeah. Wow.”

  “But, Bill—you guys are happy, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.” I took back my hand and placed it in my lap. “It’s not even really about Bill at all—it’s . . . it’s bigger than that.”

  Gretchen stayed silent, but not in judgment. She gave me the space I needed to hear these things out loud, test them, see them from a new angle.

  And something occurred to me. Was this more than bad timing for David and me? Could it actually be about Bill as much as it was about David?

  My nose tingled. I didn’t want that to be true. It complicated things so much more if I had to put a magnifying glass to my marriage when Bill and I had created a groove that worked for both of us.

  “I love Bill, and I’ve never even felt the urge to be with anyone else,” I said, my throat thickening. “Ever.”

  Gretchen nodded thoughtfully. “But you clearly feel strongly for this other guy. What is it about him?”

  My eyes darted over the bedspread. “He and I connected in such a powerful way. The first time I looked at him, something so intense passed between us. That was before we’d even spoken.”

  “Babe, that sounds like lust.”

  I nodded. “I know. I thought so, too, at first. Or, at least, I hoped. But our bond strengthens whenever I’m near him, and I can’t stop it. I can’t. I want to so badly, but it’s so, so blinding that we actually . . .”

  Those Windex-colored eyes grew bigger than I’d ever seen them. “Did you sleep with him?”

  “No.” I swallowed. “But we kissed.”

  She blinked at me. “I’ve never even heard you talk about another guy since you met Bill.”

  “It just sort of happened. One minute, we were talking, and then it’s like I just fell into him. I feel so incredibly guilty.”

  “Oh, Livs.” She pulled me in for a tight hug, then drew back, her grip firm on my shoulders. “Listen to me. You’re not the first person in the world to make a mistake in the heat of the moment. I’m more surprised that you even allowed yourself to get caught up in any moment at all.”

  I frowned. “What does that mean?”

  She sighed, twisting her lips as if searching for words. “Bill has always been—safe. You fell in love slowly and without any hiccups. I saw what your parents’ divorce did to you. You stopped taking risks. You stopped knowing how to open up. Bill’s always loved you, and he’d never hurt you.”

  Safe. That was no great revelation—I’d known it from the beginning of Bill’s and my relationship. But paired with David’s accusations from earlier . . . safe became a dirty word.

  It implied my marriage was satisfactory.

  That I wasn’t being loved the way I deserved.

  I thought it’d been a kind of safety that had also brought happiness and love. But the more time I spent with David, the less I saw what I had, and more what was missing.

  “That doesn’t mean you owe Bill anything,” Gretchen continued.

  “Yes, it does,” I said. “I took vows.”

  “But people fall out of love. And they change. You know that, but you’re so hard on yourself. If you don’t change in the ways you think are right or perfect, you resist the fuck out of it. And it will only hurt you, and Bill, too, in the long run.”

  “So what are you saying?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach. If she was talking about change, then that meant making decisions I’d thought were already set. Taking action. Hurting people I loved. “Are you telling me to do something about it?”

  “You know I can’t tell you what to do here. Nobody can. But you clearly need to take some time to think about what you really want. Not what you think others want, but you, deep down.”

  I’d let Gretchen in the door, and even though she’d given me a lot to think about, my struggle with the couch did lessen slightly.

  But it was hard to ignore the question burning in her eyes.

  After another moment of silence, I spoke. “I can’t tell you who he is, G. Then there’s no turning back.”

  Her face fell, but she nodded. “Whoever it is, I beg you not to ignore this any longer. When we were kids, we had so much fun. Remember how we used to spy on Jon until that day we caught him making out with a girl? We were so grossed out.”

  I smiled. “Your brother nearly killed us that summer.”

  “You were lighthearted. Fun. Passionate. I know it still lives in you. It was hard to witness all that die during your parents’ divorce, and then to watch you suppress anything remotely close ever since.”

  Her words took my breath away. Months ago, I’d been living the life I’d thought I’d wanted, one I’d carefully constructed, one that proved I could be happy.

  I was beginning to realize I may have fooled myself, but others had seen right through it. Davena. Gretchen. And most of all, the stranger in the tuxedo. David.

  “My parents fought a lot, but I never expected it to get so bad,” I said. “Even at the end, when it was the worst, it didn’t occur to me they’d actually split up. I was scared of my mom after the accident, but even then, I thought they’d work it out.”

  “You thought love was enough. That’s not your fault—it’s what we’re taught. That love conquers all. Then we get old enough to know better.”

  Exactly. I knew better now, didn’t I? Love alone wasn’t enough. Passion did more harm than good. So why had I let David get so deep under my skin?

  I nodded. “The divorce was for the best. Their highs and lows made everyone miserable, including me.”

  “It’s such a relief to hear you say that. It’s been so long since we’ve had an honest conversation about the past.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “It just brings up things I thought I’d moved on from.”

  “Come on, Olivia. You didn’t deal with or move on from anything. You buried it all. You were thirteen, so it’s okay. But it’s time to grow up and face it now.”

  I inhaled a breath. It wasn’t easy to hear. I thought time would heal the wounds my parents had left, but like the one just below my ribs, scars remained.

  Gretchen reached up and swiped away a tear I hadn’t realized had escaped. “When was the last time you cried in front of me?”

  “I hate doing it in public.”

  “Public? It’s me. This isn’t public.”

  “Yes. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” I shook my head, sniffling. “You’re a good friend.”

  “I try, but sometimes you make it hard.” She glanced toward the ceiling. “As kids, you told me you were going to have it all. The most successful job, the biggest house, the cutest husband. You said he was going to be the nicest, tallest guy in the world, and he’d love you more than anyone. Do you feel that way about Bill?”

  “Everyone thinks that way when they’re ten years old,” I said wryly.

  “Sure, but you carried that into high school, and into your adult life, too. You withdrew from love, but you still expected everything to fall into place the way it should. Not necessarily in a way that excited you.”

  “I had high expectations because my dad did. I didn’t want anyone to ever think that I wasn’t good enough.”

  “Nobody thinks that,” she said. “Everyone loves you. And I’ll beat up anyone who doesn’t. I’ll always have your back.”

  “I never would’ve survived without you and Jon,” I said. “You guys are the reason I made it through.”

  She gave me a beautiful smile, and I was sure I saw tears in her eyes. “So what about Bill? Is he those things?”

  “No o
ne can be all of that,” I said.

  “But is he still ‘the one’?” she asked. “You don’t have to answer, but you should know you’ve always got . . . options.”

  I heard what she didn’t say.

  Divorce.

  I shook my head slowly. “I’m not saying I’ve always made the right life choices,” I said. “But the decisions I made, I made so I wouldn’t end up like them.”

  “There are no guarantees, Liv. You may have to let go of your fears around the ‘D’ word. Your experience wouldn’t be the same as your parents’, you know. You don’t have kids.”

  But if Bill had his way, we would—and then I’d never leave. I couldn’t put a child through the heartache I’d lived. How much longer would Bill wait for my answer?

  And just like that, the decision ahead of me had nothing to do with David at all. Maybe it never had.

  I hadn’t considered that my decisions might be reversible. And if they were, I only needed to ask myself one thing . . .

  What kind of life did I want?

  23

  Gretchen’s advice to stop stressing over event minutiae and enjoy the Meet and Greet turned out to be spot-on. The past hour, I’d been all around the event, checking in with the necessary people and mingling with guests. The party, now in full swing, was a success.

  I squeezed my way through the dancefloor where Gretchen moved against Graham Broderick with closed eyes and a blissful smile. The Gryphon Hotel’s rooftop venue had opened all its sliding doors. The tallest buildings of Chicago’s cityscape backdropped the patio’s fire pits, a lush, vertical garden of plants that made up one wall, and all-black chairs with overstuffed cushions.

  My boss gestured at me from where he stood at a two-top table. Edison light bulbs glowed above him, strung from a lattice covering. “I must say, I’m pleased with what you’ve done here,” Mr. Beman said as I approached. “Not too over the top and an impressive guest list. How’d you manage to get Graham Broderick? There are actually paparazzi out front.”