“Don’t like it?” he teased.
“I love it.”
His smile faltered marginally. 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 was filling 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 echoed. 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?” My heart dropped as David took a controlled step back. 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,” I croaked and cleared my throat.
“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.
“Through Lucy. He was the one who helped me with Mark Alvarez. I never followed up so he was just updating me.”
“Oh.” He turned to look over his shoulder, and I quickly released the breath I’d been holding. “Maybe I should say thanks,” Bill said.
“No,” I said under my breath. “You shouldn’t.”
~
Tables were set up under the arches of a covered patio, replete with carafes of orange juice, platters of sausage, eggs and bacon and bowls of powdered-sugared fruit. It was like something from a bridal magazine, if they were to feature the morning-after festivities.
“Liv, grab the champagne?” Lucy asked.
I entered the kitchen just as David did from the opposite doorway. “Morning,” he said. He sported a too-small striped polo and high-water khakis. I raised an eyebrow at his outfit, and he smiled awkwardly. “Andrew’s ‘tall’ brother, as they keep 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 turned back to the refrigerator and grasped the cold bottle of champagne by its neck. When I shut the door, he was at my side, his lips quirked into a mocking smile.
“You can’t take me seriously?” he teased. “I have ways of making you.”
He leaned in to back me against the refrigerator, but I stepped forward under his nose. I tried to appear calm, even though my heart thudded in my chest. “How?” I breathed.
“It’s not really something I can explain.” His gaze fixed on my mouth and proceeded slowly downward. When his eyes jumped back to mine, he said, “I would have to show you.”
“Show me?” My voice was raspier than normal, low. It didn’t matter what he wore; he was all man, predatory even as he towered over me.
He leaned in further, and my breath caught. I’d been fidgeting with the cap of the champagne, and he took it 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 barked. She held the door open and ushered an irritated-looking David through. She grasped my arm as I followed. “Soon. We need to talk.”
“Fine,” I said, wrenching my arm from her grip.
I took my place next to Bill and filled my plate with whatever was nearest.
“What time do you guys leave tonight?” Andrew’s mom asked Lucy.
“Late. We’re sleeping on the plane so we’ll be fresh for Paris.”
“Ah, fresh for Paris,” Dani mimicked. “Get over yourself.”
“Don’t be bitter, petite Dani,” she said. “Your day will come.”
Dani flushed red. “I’ve been to Paris,” she muttered.
“That’s not what I meant,” Lucy said pointedly.
I pushed food around on my plate, tuning the conversation out. I replayed my exchange with David in my head, suppressing the 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’d become uncomfortably aroused by his words in the kitchen, and it redoubled from the way he watched me.
I jumped when Bill placed his hand on my thigh and squeezed softly. He gave me a reassuring smile.
“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 motionless. Emotionless is more like it. 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 eyes scanned the lawn as workers packed up equipment. I thought of Davena. She would have loved the wedding because she loved all things extravagant and expensive.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said from behind me. I continued staring out the window, watching as the remnants of the night disappeared into the back of a van.
“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, because she just wanted everyone to live their lives. Davena was always on my side.”
“We’re on your side. 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. I thought they were getting better.”
Even if David hadn’t reopened the wounds, they 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? ‘It’s nothing compared to keeping it 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 were fixed on me. I allowed myself a quick glance in his direction. His expression was unreadable, which agitated me, but there was no pity in it. He looked almost angry when his gaze shifted over to Bill.
At a pause in the conversation, Bill kissed my hair. “All right?” he asked. He looked tired, I noticed. I only nodded with a quick smile.
As we spilled out of the Greenes’ home, we took turns wishing Lucy and Andrew a good trip. I avoided David and took off for the car but immediately wished I hadn’t. I watched from afar as Bill approached him. While I debated whether or not to interfere, David handed him something, and they shook hands. I bit my nail as Bill took eons to cross the pebbled driveway, rocks crunching loudly under his feet. 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 and 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 his 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 forming a friendship was too real. Fuck. Seriously, fuck. Now that he’s dating Dani, will he be around all the time?
Bill sighed, and I cast a sidelong glance at him. How could I have danced with David in front of everyone? Why didn’t I leave when I’d found him in the kitchen? I was playing with fire, but when in his company, I didn’t care. I just wanted more of him. I wondered what Bill had seen in the kitchen. Had he heard David’s question about moving on? I flipped on the air conditioning in the suddenly stifling car.
Whether Bill knew it or not, I was hurting him. Directly, indirectly, it was my fault he couldn’t perform the night before. I had changed something between us without him even knowing.
In the beginning, I had 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 felt intimate – the way he looked at me, his words, his touch. It wasn’t realistic to expect that my feelings would have changed 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 would meet downstairs in the middle of the workday, I would feel happy, anticipatory. I liked his company as well as our conversations. Butterflies . . . . Were they there? 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? Had he been hoping to see her in the kitchen rather than me? My mind clouded. Did he, would he, touch her like he had touched me? I pictured how he would undress her, stroke her skin, run his hands through her long hair. My teeth gritted as I saw her in his apartment, sitting on the couch where I had. In his bedroom as I had been. Wrapped up in his sheets. Tangled in his – Oh, God. It’s too much. I shuddered and shrank in my seat.
Maybe one day they would have their own wedding and their own 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.
CHAPTER 8
TAP, TAP, TAP. I stared down at the red pen jittering between my fingers and then at the clock: 11:20 a.m. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. I stilled and looked blankly at the list of article topics in front of me. I was across the office to grab my jacket in one motion.
“Early lunch?” Jenny asked as I whizzed by her desk.
“Yep.”
I focused on the clicking of my heels against the pavement as I walked. Summer was ending, but it was warm and the sky was a clear blue. With each step toward my destination, I was a little lighter. Since the car ride home from Winnetka the day before, my mind had been in overdrive, and 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 Pierson/Greer. Just inside was the one who haunted my thoughts, the one I couldn’t forget. I reached out for the gilded handle and paused. After a moment, my hand fell to my side again. I backed away from the entrance and pinched the bridge of my nose. Don’t do this, Olivia. Let it lie. Let it be. Don’t do this . . . . I wiped beads of sweat from my forehead and paced along the sidewalk. What did I want from David? What answers could he provide? I needed to know why this was happening. Why I was beginning to feel more and more like I was being torn in half.
I stopped my tread finally and sighed up at the tall building. With sagging shoulders, I turned around and idled back the way I’d come.
At the first convenience store, I ducked inside. I was craving comfort food in a way I hadn’t been lately. I headed straight for the freezer, promising myself that things would get easier. I slid open the door and selected an ice cream sandwich, knowing I just had to stay strong. I walked to the cashier, determined not to break down in the middle of a convenience store. With one hand cradling my purchase, I used the other to fish out a couple dollar bills from my wallet.
“Hey, go easy on that ice cream, honeybee.” My heart leaped, and I turned to see David filling the doorway. He tilted his head and smiled at me. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be over on Adams, making some Bachelors miserable?”
I just stared, blinking as sunlight illuminated him from behind.
His eyebrows folded. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No,” I replied as his cologne slowly wafted into my orbit. “I mean y
es, I’m fine. You startled me.”
“Well, I do work right down the street.”
“I know . . . .”
“Of course you do. Is that your lunch?”
I followed his curious gaze to my hands. “Um. No, I – I . . . ,” I stammered. I fumbled to set it on the counter. I shouldn’t be there. To run into him was one thing, but I had sought him out. Grasping the strap of my purse, I hurried to the doorway, where he swiveled to let me through.
“I never got to tell you how much I enjoyed the issue.”
My head shot up, but I continued my stride. “What?”
“The Most Eligible issue,” David said. “The feature had a fresh, creative touch. You deserve that promotion.”
“Oh.” I slowed fractionally to sync with his relaxed gait. “Thanks.”
He handed me the ice cream sandwich. “Here.”
“Did you steal this?” I asked with widened eyes.
He laughed loudly. “No, of course not. I bought it for you.”
After a slight hesitation, I accepted it and started to peel away the wrapper.
“What did you think of my part?”
“Hmm?” I asked as I took a bite.
“The article. What did you think?”
I swallowed and feigned interest in the sidewalk. “Your pictures caused quite the commotion.”
“What did you think though?”
“I thought . . . ,” I paused, exhaling loudly. “I thought that you looked very handsome. Lisa did a nice job.”
“And the interview?”
I squinted ahead and took another bite of the softening ice cream. A young guy dropped his skateboard on the ground and zoomed by us. “I didn’t read it.”
We stopped at a corner and waited for the light to change. I looked up at him as vanilla dripped down my fingers. I tried to convey with my eyes what I couldn’t with my words. That I hadn’t read it because it was too painful. That since the day I’d left, I could never forget the hurt in his eyes. Even in my heels, my head was almost vertical when I said, “I’m sorry.”
Come Alive (The Cityscape Series) Page 6