“It was a good idea, Olivia, and Lisa said you turned it down. Tsk, tsk.”
“Because I think it’s a waste of resources.” That, and it would’ve been easier to close the book on that chapter of my life. I sniffed. “It’s important to keep things fresh.”
“’Most Eligible’ draws a large reader base. They become connected with the subjects, interested in knowing more about them. In a way,” Beman said, smiling playfully at David, “they’re local celebrities.”
“That may work for the website, but not the publication,” I said.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” When Beman noticed David holding open the office’s glass door for me, his tone turned amused. “Are you two off together?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Just leaving at the same time.”
“Ah.” Beman wiggled his fingers in a wave. “Good evening, David. Hope to see you around.”
David only raised his eyebrows and followed me out. “That guy’s a piece of work,” he said when we were alone. He punched the elevator call button. “Do you like having him as a boss?”
I shrugged. “Not particularly, but a job’s a job.”
He only frowned.
In the elevator, I picked an invisible piece of lint from my shoulder. Tension mixed with David’s distinct air. Being alone with him in a small space, I couldn’t help thinking of that night in the stairwell of the Gryphon Hotel. Of my internal battle, knowing I had to stop what was happening. But I hadn’t. I hadn’t said no; I hadn’t said anything. I almost felt guiltier for that than all the things that came after.
Now, it frustrated me how relaxed David looked. I wanted to shake him, to ask him what he wanted, why he couldn’t just walk away. I wanted to scream at him and kiss him all at once, anything to crack that perfect exterior.
And then the doors slid open, so I did the only logical thing I could and exited the elevator. We crossed the lobby and turned right onto Adams, as though we did that sort of thing every evening.
“Relax, Olivia.”
“What?”
“Relax,” David said. “Your shoulders are at your ears. We’re just walking.”
I took a deep breath and released an exhale that deflated my shoulders. He was right—I’d balled my hands into fists, and my neck was stiff. “I’m sorry, I’m just . . . stressed.”
“I can tell. Why?”
“Just things, stupid things.”
“Such as? Work? Home?”
“The Oak Park house, for one. There’s so much to be done, and it just feels like everything is moving so fast.” I glanced up at him when he didn’t respond. “Do you really want to know this stuff?”
He nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I do.”
“Buying a home is a commitment,” I continued. “Bill is making such a big thing of it. Of what it symbolizes.”
“What does it symbolize?”
“Our future. It’s like he’s been waiting and waiting for it to start, and now it’s finally here. That’s a lot of pressure. I feel the opposite—like it snuck up on me. One minute I’m twenty-two and graduating college. Suddenly, I’m thirty, and I’m supposed to be this other person. An adult, a wife, a homeowner, a mother.”
“Mother?” he blurted.
“One day.” I bit my lip. “Isn’t that why people move to the suburbs?”
“Are you . . .” He paused, swallowing. “Are you having second thoughts?”
I folded my arms into myself as we waited to cross the street. To say yes would be admitting the worst thing possible to the worst person possible. “I met Bill soon after college,” I said carefully. “I was so young. I mean, I don’t know if twenty-five is too young to get married, but maybe it was.” When I looked up, the cool expression David normally wore had slid from his face. He looked almost panicked. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I meant second thoughts about . . .” His disjointed reply made it seem as if his throat were constricting. “About the house, not about . . .”
“Oh,” I breathed in a rush of air, too conscious of the flush creeping up my neck. I understood why David couldn’t finish his sentence. Second thoughts about Bill meant second thoughts about everything in my life. “No. I was hesitant to move out of the city at first. Maybe I still am. I love the house itself, but what it represents—”
His hand shot out and yanked me back as I stepped off the curb. “Watch it,” he chastised as a car flew by. We both looked at his hand on my arm, and he dropped it after a moment. “Sorry. Continue.”
With the break in my stream of consciousness, I shook my head. “Never mind. I should probably keep this stuff to myself.”
“It’s not the house, but what it represents, you said. So what is that?” he asked.
Once I exaggerated checking for cars, David and I continued across the street. “I guess I just don’t know when everything happened,” I said. “I don’t remember choosing this. I knew it would eventually come to this, me on the brink of my life, about to dive in, but I expected to be more ready.”
“You keep saying that you two are starting your future together. But you also know that your future? It’s already happening, Olivia. Finding you should have been the start of his future.”
“When you say things like that, I can’t tell if you’re being authentic or if you’re just so used to feeding people lines.”
He laughed, but his smile slipped from his face quickly. “If I had found you first, there’d be no waiting. When I looked into your eyes at that theater—”
“David,” I admonished quietly, scanning the faces of passersby as we walked. His words diffused as much guilt through me as disbelief. I already knew how quickly and painlessly I could fall under his spell. “Don’t say those things to me. Save it for your girls.”
“You don’t have to go through with anything you don’t want to,” he said over me.
“Yes, I do,” I said resolutely. “We’ve put the offer in. There’s no reason they won’t accept it. And anyway, I want the house. I just said I wasn’t quite ready.”
“An offer can easily be undone,” he said. “If you’re not ready, if you don’t want—”
“I want it,” I snapped.
A tourist with an upward-pointing camera momentarily split us apart. My gaze spanned the city around us. I wondered why David didn’t just leave me right there on the sidewalk. I sighed and looked over at him in the falling dusk, noting how powerful he seemed with the steely buildings as his backdrop. As if, with a snap of his fingers, Chicago would bow at his feet and heed his commands.
“What are you thinking?” he asked in a disarmingly gentle tone.
“That the city looks different depending on who I’m seeing it with.”
He nodded easily, as if this same thought had occurred to him.
“I notice different things,” I continued. “Like with you, I pay more attention to the details of the buildings—the textures, the colors, the people standing in front of them. The reflections are different.”
“Reflections?” he asked quietly.
I watched our bodies morph and distort in the window of an empty bank. “You’re there,” I said. “That’s how they’re different.”
I wanted to ask him why he was walking with me after he’d told me in no uncertain terms that he wouldn’t fuck me again. Didn’t he know it was impossible for us to be anything other than what we had been during our one night together? A sweeping and powerful force of passion and insatiable hunger?
Without missing a step and still looking ahead, he touched me. “Relax,” he instructed.
My muscles melted under his hand. He removed it once my shoulders were back in place, but the warmth lingered. “Sorry. I’m just—”
“Stressed, I know,” he said. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”
I made a face. “Um.”
“Don’t you ever travel? Everyone likes to vacation.”
“Not Bill.”
“I remember you sai
d that,” he said. “So what?”
“So maybe I don’t like to either.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Vacation is always, like, idealized. It becomes something huge in your mind, as if all the other days of the year are leading up to this one week. You’re going to dine grandly and spend hours in the sun forgetting that you have a real life. Then later, make love sweetly—maybe on the beach, maybe under the stars or by candlelight. But those things don’t happen. Your flight is delayed. You spend the next three days in a state of permanent jetlag. You never remember the sun being as strong as it is. You eat too much and—and you have to undo the top button of your jeans.”
He looked confused, as if that was a new concept to him. “Eat too much?” he asked.
“I never stop thinking about work, no matter how hard I try. I’m always thinking about how the vacation is setting me back. So is Bill. The one trip we took, he brought paperwork with him, and he worked a few hours a day because he had to. I checked my e-mail so I wouldn’t miss anything important. But the thing is, I never did miss anything, because at the end of the day, life goes on without me.”
“You think so?” David asked.
“Yes. The office runs, and life goes on. When I was an assistant editor, I undertook most of my boss Diane’s workload. I always assumed that if I didn’t do it, nobody would. But somehow it got done during that one vacation.”
“And making love?”
“What?”
“There’s the plan to make love sweetly.”
My cheeks warmed a little. “Oh, you think you will. And you try. But when you’re stuffed, burnt, and exhausted, making love suddenly doesn’t seem so appealing.”
“So it doesn’t happen?” he asked, hope dripping off the question like honey.
“No, it happens,” I said. “But it’s not how you imagined it. On the beach, it’s scratchy and painful. Sand gets places it should never be. And that’s the last time you’ll ever make that mistake.”
“Mistake,” he repeated with a snort. “Sounds like you’re doing it wrong.”
I swallowed hard and slowed as we approached the restaurant where I was meeting Gretchen. “We’re here.”
David peered inside, scanning the crowd. When his eyes returned to mine, they were calm.
I touched my hair. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but . . .”
He arched an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips.
“I like spending time with you,” I confessed. “I know I’m tense. But around you, I feel . . . better.” I bit my bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have run out on you the way I did back in May. It was childish. I guess what I’m saying is, I’d really like it if we could be friends.”
He looked up at the sky and laughed.
“I’m serious, David. It’s the only way to be in each other’s lives. Can you manage that?”
He broke into a wide, shit-eating grin. “Can you? If you’ll recall, I was the one who put a stop to things at the house.”
As if I needed reminding. I stuck my hand out between us. “Friends?” I asked.
My body practically shook with his answering handshake. Any amusement on his face was then replaced with purpose. “How are you getting home?”
I thought a moment. “Probably the train.”
“You could also take a cab.”
I smiled. “I’ll consider it.”
He smiled back at me. “Okay, Miss Olivia.” In one swift movement, he leaned in and froze. My breath caught as his face hovered just above mine. After a long moment, he rerouted his swoop and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight, friend,” he said softly.
“Goodnight,” I echoed with my heart pounding in my ears.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there after he’d walked away. Gretchen appeared, somewhere from the shadows, and gave me a strong hug. I hadn’t yet divulged the reason for calling this emergency dinner. When she pulled back, I shook my head at her. “You big, fat liar.”
Her eyes widened fractionally and then narrowed. “That asshole. Greg went to see you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
She groaned and pulled open the door to the restaurant. “I knew he’d do that, even though I specifically said—”
“Whoa. Hit pause,” I said. “What the hell is going on?”
“Liv,” she said, her tone softening. “You know I could never say no to him.” She smiled automatically at the hostess and told her cheerily, “Two for dinner.”
“So what does this mean?” I asked, tailing her to the table.
“Well, we’re—I don’t know, trying again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She stopped behind her chair and sighed. After a moment, she pulled it out and sat down. “You haven’t exactly been available lately.”
Understanding quickly set in. It was my fault she hadn’t told me. I’d barely even asked about her life the past few months. “Oh,” was all I said as I plopped into my own chair.
“But I’m relieved that you know,” she continued. “I’ve really been needing someone to talk to.”
“Isn’t it going well?”
“Yes.” She grinned. “But it’s hard keeping it to myself.”
I nodded knowingly. “So tell me then.”
She gave me the short history of their new relationship. I wasn’t surprised by the way Greg had worn her down; he’d always been charming, and despite her cool exterior, she’d always had a soft spot for him.
“It’s weird,” she said, dipping a chip into chunky guacamole. “Things feel both different and the same.”
“What’s different?”
“We’re both more mature. He seems more open to a relationship. It was his idea to become exclusive right off the bat.”
“So you’re not seeing anyone else?”
“No. I guess he’s like my boyfriend.”
I laughed. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”
“Nobody noteworthy since him,” she replied.
“How’s the sex?”
“We haven’t done it yet. Er, again.”
My mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”
“If we sleep together, then I’m really in it.”
“If I know the two of you,” I said, “that’s not going to last long.”
“I know. I just want to be as certain as possible.”
“Do you trust him?”
“He insists that this time is different, but . . .”
I set my chin in my palm, and when she didn’t continue, I told her I hoped it would be. Greg was a decent guy, and the way he’d abandoned her was out of character. Still . . . there were no guarantees when it came to matters of the heart. If security was what she wanted, she needed someone like Bill, not Greg.
Unable to give her the assurance she needed, I changed the subject. “Greg mentioned a party?”
“My PR firm is hosting a soft opening next weekend. I’m supposed to invite people.”
“All right, count us in,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“You haven’t wanted to do anything lately, and I know Bill doesn’t really like that sort of thing.”
“Well, I said I’d try, didn’t I?” I asked. “What’s it for?”
“That gigantic new hotel on the River. Revelin, I think? They’re doing a test run to make sure the staff and everything is up to standard.”
“Oh.”
The Revelin. The hotel on which David had been the lead architect.
I rolled my lips together and nodded, trying to hide my surprise.
Gretchen’s eyes skimmed my face, waiting for my response.
“What?” I asked when she didn’t speak.
“I saw you earlier.”
“Where?”
“Out front, with David.”
My body warmed with embarrassment, and I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Oh.”
“He kissed you.”
&
nbsp; “No,” I said, shaking my head quickly. “It’s not what it looked like. It was just a peck on the cheek.”
“Um, that’s exactly what it looked like. A kiss.” She frowned. “Why are you even together?”
Fuck. My heart rate rose as she stared at me. She knew enough to be rightfully suspicious, but she didn’t know even half the story. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Olivia, are you guys . . . is this . . .” She paused and shifted in her chair. “Are you having an affair?” she asked with a lowered voice.
“No,” I insisted.
“I don’t believe you.”
I gaped at her. “We are not sleeping together.”
She spun her glass of water on the table. “Please tell me you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”
“No,” I said, but it came out as a whisper.
“Are you thinking about it?”
What was worse—the fact that I already had done something stupid, or that I was letting that mistake back into my life? I glanced at the table and back up. “No.”
“Are you lying?”
Months ago, I would’ve told Gretchen everything. What she already knew, she hadn’t judged. But I’d put so much distance between us lately, and I’d been guarding this secret closely. Admitting the truth felt impossible now.
“I know his type,” she said, her tone heavy with warning. “He’s a player with a capital P.”
“I know that,” I said.
“Do you? I get that it’s tempting, he is a god. And yes, you clearly have chemistry. But I’m afraid he sees you as some kind of challenge. Guys like that have fucked over me and many of my friends. But you have way more at stake.” She paused, searching my face. “Think of what it would do to your marriage. You’d regret it.”
How could I tell her that I’d already done it, and that I didn’t regret it at all? At least not for the reasons I should? I looked down. Grains of salt scattered over the table. I studied them, forming them into abstract patterns.
“Olivia?” she prompted.
I nodded finally. No one had more concerns than I did. I couldn’t be the only person under David’s spell—he could have anyone with the snap of his fingers. Why, then, was I tempted to put everything on the line for him? Gretchen was right. But I feared I’d wandered too far down that path to find my way back.
Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set Page 38
