Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

“And you’re dating Dani,” I said.

  His chest rose with a deep sigh. “Not exactly.”

  I pursed my lips. “She seems to think so.”

  “We’ve been out a few times at Lucy’s insistence,” he said, pulling at his chin.

  “You’re here together.”

  He looked at me again. “I was invited before I even met her. You know Andrew and I are friends.” I responded with a pointed look of skepticism, and his lips pressed together. “All right. I suppose, in a sense, Dani and I are dating.”

  “Did it ever occur to you how that might make me feel?” I asked.

  His eyebrows rose. “You don’t exactly get a say, honeybee.”

  My grip tightened around my glass. Honeybee. The hazy post-coital glow from our one night washed over me. “Don’t call me that.”

  “Don’t like it?” he teased.

  “I love it.”

  His smile faltered. After a moment, he took a measured step toward me. I pulled my robe closer as my heart skipped. Two more steps, and his ever-imposing frame filled the space around me. The smell of liquor burned my nostrils as his gaze flitted down to me. “I’m serious about this shit,” he whispered, tugging at the opening of my robe. “Start taking better care of yourself, or it’s going to piss me off.”

  “You don’t get a say,” I repeated his words back to him. I held his gaze, but I could still see my breasts heaving with each breath.

  “So this is it?” he asked. “Everybody just moves on? We just move on?”

  I cocked my head. Isn’t that what we’d been doing?

  “Olivia?” I heard Bill’s voice.

  My heart dropped. David took a controlled step back. Behind him, Bill, in sagging boxers and a t-shirt, stood in the doorway. He looked between us briefly and rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Just getting—” I croaked as my throat went desert dry.

  “She needed water,” David said for me. He lifted the pitcher in Bill’s direction and took my glass from the counter. Streaming water filled the silence as he topped off my drink.

  Bill shifted on his feet. Long seconds ticked by until David calmly handed me the cup.

  I accepted it and walked toward Bill without looking back. “Let’s go to bed,” I told him.

  He nodded at David and followed me from the kitchen. “How do you know him again?” Bill asked when we were out of earshot.

  “He was one of our bachelors this year—the one who helped me with Mark Alvarez. I never followed up so he was just updating me on the case.”

  “You could’ve asked me—I’ve been following it.” Bill turned to look over his shoulder, and I quickly released the breath I’d been holding. “Should I go thank him?”

  “No,” I said under my breath. “Please don’t.”

  * * *

  The next morning at the Greenes’ estate, tables had been set under the arches of a covered patio. The buffet featured carafes of orange juice, platters of sausage, eggs, and bacon, a waffle and pancake station, and bowls of powdered-sugared fruit. It was like a spread straight out of a bridal magazine, if they were to feature the morning-after festivities.

  “Liv, grab the champagne?” Lucy asked as she carried a stack of plates to one end of the buffet.

  “On it,” I said and entered the kitchen just as David did the same from the opposite doorway.

  “Morning,” he said, sporting a too small striped polo and high-water khakis. I raised an eyebrow at his outfit, and he smiled awkwardly. “Courtesy of Andrew’s ‘tall’ brother, as everyone keeps calling him.”

  I gave a shallow nod and ducked by him to the refrigerator, infuriatingly conscious of his body heat despite the dopey clothing.

  He cleared his throat. “We didn’t finish our conversation from last night.”

  I yanked open the heavy refrigerator door and searched for the champagne. “I think we did. The idea is that we move on.”

  “Move on,” he echoed.

  “Yep.”

  “Olivia.”

  I leaned back to look at him from the other side of the door. We stared at each other a moment until I started laughing.

  His eyebrows knit as he studied me. “What?”

  “I can’t take you seriously in that outfit.” I grasped a cold bottle of champagne by its neck and shut the door.

  David appeared, his lips quirked into a mocking smile. “Can’t take me seriously?” he echoed. “Do I have to find a way to make you?”

  He leaned in, backing me against the refrigerator, but two could play at this game. I stepped forward, under his nose, trying to appear calm, even though my heart thudded in my chest. “Make me take you seriously . . . how?”

  “It’s a tactic I can’t really explain.” His gaze fixed on my mouth and proceeded slowly downward. When his eyes jumped back to mine, he said, “I’d have to show you.”

  I fidgeted with the foil over the cork of the champagne, pulling it free. “Show me?” I repeated, my voice raspier than normal, low. It didn’t matter what he wore—David was all man and not a little intimidating as he towered over me.

  My breath caught, my hands stilling as he leaned in. Tilted his head. Lowered his mouth.

  And took the bottle from my hands before straightening up again.

  Gretchen’s head poked through the screen door. “Hurry up, Liv. We need that for the mimosas.” She looked between the two of us.

  “We’ll be right there,” David said without turning around. He twisted the cork, and it freed with a loud pop.

  “Um, no, everyone is waiting on you.” Gretchen shot him a piercing look. “Come on, move it.”

  She held the door open and ushered an irritated-looking David through.

  As I followed, Gretchen grasped my arm. “Soon, Olivia. We need to talk about David soon.”

  “Fine,” I said, wrenching my arm from her grip.

  I filled my plate with whatever was around and took my seat next to Bill, across the table from Lucy and her family. Dani’s still-curled brown hair looked as flawless in a ponytail as her pale skin against a soft pink cashmere sweater.

  “What time do you guys leave tonight?” Andrew’s mom asked Lucy, gently cutting a pancake into squares.

  “Late,” Lucy said. “We’re sleeping on the plane so we’ll be fresh for Paris.”

  “Ah, ‘fresh for Paris,’” Dani said, half-smiling. “You sound so sophisticated now that you’re married.”

  “Don’t worry, petite Dani,” Lucy said with a glance in David’s direction. “Your day will come.”

  I pushed food around on my plate. My exchange with David replayed in my head, and I suppressed a smile that was trying to break through. He knew exactly how to draw me in, how to prick the bubble of numbness I lived in.

  My thoughts wandered to the previous night. So he and Dani hadn’t slept together. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. It was clear, to me at least, that she wanted it to happen—didn’t he? Knowing how persistent he could be, I wondered what was stopping him.

  When I blinked up, David was watching me from across the table. “Eat,” he mouthed, nodding subtly at my plate.

  I picked up a strawberry, bit off the end, and licked my lips.

  His eyes locked on my mouth as I slowly took another bite and dropped the stem on my plate. He swallowed and stared—hard. I got uncomfortably aroused by the way he watched me.

  I jumped when Bill placed his hand on my thigh and squeezed softly. He gave me a reassuring smile. As I tuned back into the conversation, I realized why.

  “And so,” Lucy was saying, “I wanted to express regret for those who couldn’t be here to help us celebrate. My aunt and my mother’s sister, Grace, God rest her soul. As well as Olivia’s mentor and good friend, Davena.” I clenched my teeth and concentrated on steady breathing. Lucy’s face contorted as tears welled in her eyes. “Two beautiful women who were taken from us too early.”

  She was crying now, along with her mother, and I just sat mo
tionless. Andrew’s mother leaned over and whispered as she rubbed Lucy’s back. I inhaled and tried to wet my eyes as well, but I was drier than Death Valley.

  Damn it, Lucy. Why are you bringing Davena into this?

  The table looked at me with overwhelming sympathy, including Bill, which bothered me most of all.

  “Say something, babe,” he whispered in my ear, and my jaw tensed.

  I scooted the chair back suddenly and dropped my napkin on the table. “Excuse me.”

  I passed through the kitchen and over to the backyard-facing window. My loss felt private. Perhaps because I hadn’t fully confronted it yet, while everyone else seemed to have moved on. I still needed to process it on my own terms. My eyes scanned the lawn as workers packed up equipment. Davena would’ve actually loved the wedding because she enjoyed all things extravagant and expensive.

  “I’m sorry,” Lucy said from behind me. I continued staring out the window, watching as men loaded remnants of the night into the back of an event rental truck.

  “It’s fine,” I replied.

  “I only wanted to honor her memory.”

  “I said it’s fine,” I repeated gently.

  “What’s wrong, Liv?” she asked. “You never talk about her.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I miss her, but that’s all.”

  “What do you miss about her?”

  I turned from the window and looked Lucy in the eyes. “She was a good person. She never judged anyone, didn't care what others thought, just lived her life. Davena was always on my side.”

  “We’re on your side,” Lucy said. “Everyone wants you to be happy.”

  I smiled weakly. “You’re a good friend. Let’s go back before I ruin the weekend.”

  “You’re not ruining anything. I just want things to get better,” she said. “I thought they were getting better.”

  Even if David hadn’t reopened them, my wounds were still painfully fresh. Something felt off, wrong, with the house in Oak Park and with life in general. But to have David in front of me, to smell him, to look into his eyes—it made my heart race, but in the right way.

  “They are,” I assured her finally. “Things are getting better.” It wasn’t at all convincing, but I was so tired of pretending. All the time. It was exhausting. What had David said to me?

  “My fear is nothing compared to the agony of keeping this inside. I can’t hide it like you.”

  I walked back to the patio without another word, knowing Lucy would follow. Everyone had returned to merry conversation, and nobody noticed our return. Except David, whose eyes fixed on me. I allowed myself a quick glance in his direction. His unreadable expression bothered me, but at least there was no pity in it. He looked almost angry when his gaze shifted over to Bill, who chatted with Lucy’s dad.

  At a pause in the conversation, Bill turned to me and kissed my temple. “All good?” he asked.

  He looked tired. I nodded with a quick smile. “All good.”

  Later, as the remaining guests spilled out of the Greenes’ home, we took turns wishing Lucy and Andrew a good honeymoon. I avoided David and took off for the car but immediately wished I hadn’t when I looked back and saw Bill approaching David. While I debated whether or not to interfere, David handed Bill something, and they shook hands. I bit my nail as Bill took eons to cross the pebbled driveway, rocks crunching loudly under his feet.

  What had they spoken about? The question burned at the tip of my tongue.

  Once we were driving away, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “What did he give you?” I blurted.

  “Who?”

  I grasped my earlobe between my fingers and hesitated. “David.”

  “Oh, his card. We’re going to try to set something up this week. Jeanine’s been on my ass about what she should tell the owners.”

  “Can’t we just hire an appraiser or something?”

  “We’ll do that, too, but I need David’s expert advice on what it’ll cost to renovate.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, babe, I don’t want to make an offer until I know what it’ll set us back.”

  “No, why him?”

  “Sounds like he knows what he’s talking about, according to Andrew. Plus, if I don’t have to pay someone, all the better.”

  “Aha,” I muttered under my breath. I should have guessed, since saving money was one of Bill’s favorite hobbies.

  “Something bothering you, sweet cheeks?” he asked sardonically.

  I huffed in my seat and looked away. I’d brought this on myself, so why was I taking it out on Bill? The threat of Bill and David spending time together was too real.

  Fuck. Seriously, fuck. Now that David’s dating Dani, will he be around more?

  Bill sighed, and I cast a sidelong glance at him. How could I have danced with David in front of everyone? Why hadn’t I left when I’d found him in the kitchen in the middle of the night? And had Bill seen or heard anything? I was playing with fire, but when I was in David’s company, I didn’t care. I just wanted more of him.

  I flipped on the air conditioning in the suddenly stifling car. Whether Bill knew it or not, I was hurting him. Directly, indirectly, it’d been my fault he couldn’t perform after the wedding. I had changed something between us without him even knowing.

  In the beginning, I’d been drawn to Bill’s confidence. He was independent and successful. Things with him had been simple, gradual. But the traits that had attracted me to him also had their downsides. He was attentive when it was convenient for him. He was even-keeled, like our relationship. He was mild—like our relationship. He didn’t dig, or probe, or question why things were the way they were, because for him, it was enough.

  David was not only attentive, but intuitive. Was he that way with all of his women? Though nothing had happened, I felt as though I’d misbehaved over the weekend. Everything about David screamed intimacy—the way he looked at me, his words, his touch.

  Sure, it wasn’t realistic to expect that my feelings would have vanished in only three months. But what unsettled me was that they were as strong as ever.

  Seeing David was a full-body experience. I felt heavy and light at the same time.

  He gives me butterflies, but they aren’t butterflies. They’re bigger and darker and scarier, like crows. They’re dangerous. And did Bill ever give me butterflies?

  My relationship with Bill had started slow. When we’d meet downstairs in the middle of the workday, I would feel happy, anticipatory. I liked his company as well as our conversations.

  But butterflies . . . did I have them? Does it matter if I did? Since when do butterflies determine anything?

  I wondered if David gave Dani butterflies or worse . . . did she excite him? If he’d found her in the kitchen in the middle of the night instead of me, would he have stood too close, voiced things better left unsaid?

  My mind clouded. Did he, would he, touch her . . . like he’d touched me? I pictured how he’d undress her, stroke her skin, run his hands through her long hair. My teeth gritted as I saw her in his apartment, sitting on same couch I had. In his bedroom as I’d been. Wrapped up in his sheets. Tangled in him.

  Oh, God. It’s too much.

  I shuddered and shrank in my seat.

  Maybe one day they would have their own wedding and a honeymoon in Paris. Someone else would give a toast about finding “the one,” and it wouldn’t include me. David was my mistake, and if they ended up together, I would be his. I would be the blemish. The wife’s friend. The cheater.

  8

  Tap, tap, tap. I stared at the red pen between my fingers that I couldn’t stop fidgeting with, then looked at the clock: 11:20 a.m.

  Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

  I stilled my hand and looked blankly at the magazine layout in front of me. I couldn’t focus. I needed fresh air. In seconds, I’d jumped out of my seat, crossed the office, and grabbed my jacket.

  “Early lunch?” Jenny asked as I whizzed by reception.
<
br />   “Yep.”

  I focused on the click of my heels against the pavement as I walked. Summer was ending, but it was warm, the sky a clear blue. With each step toward my destination, my mood lightened.

  Since the car ride home from Winnetka the day before, my mind had been in overdrive. And somehow, I’d actually begun to feel better instead of just faking it. I wanted more of that. I needed . . . something. I didn’t know what exactly, or even what I wanted, but I thought I knew where to find it.

  A fifteen-minute walk. A lifetime hanging in the balance. A choice. I stopped in front of the sleek, modern doors of an architecture firm I’d looked up many times but had never visited.

  Pierson/Greer.

  Just inside was the man who haunted my thoughts, the one I couldn’t forget. I reached out for the gilded handle and paused.

  Don’t do this, Olivia. Let it lie. Let it be. Don’t do this . . .

  After a moment, my hand fell to my side again. I backed away from the entrance and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  What did I want from David? What answers could he provide?

  I turned to pace the sidewalk. I needed to know why this was happening. Why, long after our night together, I still questioned the life I’d worked so hard to achieve. One I’d chosen not just once, when I’d married Bill, but again, when I’d raced out of David’s apartment three months earlier.

  I stopped my tread finally and sighed up at the tall building. It didn’t matter how desperately I wanted to talk to David, even if it was the only thing that seemed to help lately. To lay eyes on him and know everything would be okay. To feel his touch when I was cold, even with the summer sun overhead. Seeking him out was wrong. With sagging shoulders, I turned around and idled back the way I’d come.

  At the first convenience store, I ducked inside, craving comfort food for the first time in months. The first thing I saw was the freezer. Promising myself that things would get easier, I slid open the door and picked an ice cream sandwich. I just had to stay strong. I walked to the cashier, determined not to break down in the middle of a convenience store. Holding the dessert in one hand, I used my other to fish out a couple dollar bills from my wallet.