Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set

by Hawkins, Jessica

  David laughed silently, even as I narrowed my eyes on him.

  “You’re a little persistent, aren’t you?” I asked as I stirred sugar into my coffee.

  “You have no idea, stubborn lady.” He opened his hand on the table, gesturing for mine. “You and I are going to be an interesting couple.”

  A couple. With David Dylan.

  I tapped the sugar spoon on the edge of my glass, set it down, and put my hand in his. I studied the way his large one engulfed mine. Protective. Gentle. Dominant. I cocked my head.

  I was David Dylan’s . . . girlfriend?

  “What’s wrong?” David asked.

  “Nothing. This is all just so . . . weird,” I said, glancing at Gretchen. “I have a new life.”

  “So, you’re like her boyfriend—right, David?” Gretchen chimed in.

  “I don’t know if that’s quite the right word,” he replied.

  I blinked at him. What?

  “Roommate?” Gretchen suggested.

  I jumped at David’s burst of laughter.

  “Gretchen,” I squealed, staring daggers at her.

  David squeezed my hand. “Boyfriend isn’t strong enough, but if we need something to call me, then it works for now.”

  Gretchen sipped her coffee and hummed thoughtfully, alerting us that there was something on her mind.

  “Yes?” I asked her.

  “It’s Saturday.”

  “So?” I asked just as I noticed David shake his head at Gretchen.

  “Isn’t tonight—”

  “Nothing,” David cut her off. “Tonight, Olivia and I will finally get some much-needed alone time.”

  I looked between the two of them. “What’s tonight?”

  “It’s The Revelin’s official grand opening soiree,” David said, “but I’m not going.”

  “Wait. What?” I asked. I’d seen The Revelin hotel, David’s big project on the Riverfront, when it had just been a half-finished construction site. We’d spent a night in the finished hotel, and it had opened to the public already, but still. This was David’s moment to take the credit. “That’s a huge deal. You have to go.”

  “It’s not important,” he said, tearing his glare from Gretchen to look at me. “I’m taking care of you right now.”

  “No.” I shook my head with determination. “Absolutely not. If you don’t want me to come, I understand, but you are definitely going. How can you say it’s not important? It is important, you’ve dedicated—”

  “Whoa there,” he interrupted, smiling. “I don’t even want to go. I already did all my schmoozing bullshit at the soft opening. Although, can’t say I regret that night one bit,” he added. I blushed, remembering the oh-so-wrong, but oh-so-right night of life-altering sex in his hotel room . . . and then in the hotel room’s pool. “Really, I don’t care about it,” David continued. “The hotel’s been open long enough for us to know everything’s going smoothly. I would much rather spend a quiet night with you.”

  No way. I took my hand back, sitting up straight in my seat. “You worked hard on that project, and you deserve to be honored,” I declared. “You’re going to that party, David Dylan, with or without me. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself for a night—”

  “All right.” He cut me off with his palms in the air. “I’ll go. But I’m sure as hell not going without you. That is, if you’re up for it.”

  “I’m up for it,” I stated firmly.

  “Then unless you have a gown rolled up in that bag, we definitely need to go shopping,” he said.

  My shoulders relaxed somewhat, and Gretchen bounced in her chair. “Fine,” I relented, and he gave me his amazing, boyish grin that I just about lived for.

  “Since my firm handles Revelin’s PR, I’ll be there too,” Gretchen said. “I’m bringing Greg.”

  I looked back at her. “I thought you guys broke things off because you went home with another guy at the last Revelin party. Are things back on?”

  “Yes,” she said with a shy smile. “He didn’t care about the other guy since nothing happened. It took a while, but he finally convinced me that this time is for good.”

  “For good?” I asked, my eyes big.

  “Yup. I’m tired of playing it safe.” She looked at David and explained, “College boyfriend who dumped me two days before graduation. I’ve been butt-hurt about it ever since, but I think I’m ready to move on now.” She turned back to me. “He says he’s changed, and I could either go on not believing him or take a chance. We decided a couple weeks ago to give it a real try.”

  “I’m so happy for you,” I said sincerely. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around to talk to.”

  “You were around,” she said. “You just weren’t reachable.”

  “You can thank David for that,” I said, nodding at him.

  “We weren’t even speaking a couple weeks ago,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  David squeezed my leg under the table again, higher this time. It sent a thrill up the inside of my thigh. I couldn’t wait to be back in his arms, just us, exploring each other . . .

  David raised his eyebrows at me, jerking his head toward Gretchen.

  “Right,” I said, forcing myself out of the fantasy and back to the table. “So we’ll make a night of it then? We can all meet up at Revelin.”

  As the waiter returned with our food, David sat forward and picked up a fork. “Should I see if Andrew wants to come? I can put him and Lucy on the list.”

  I shoveled some oatmeal into my mouth.

  Gretchen looked down into her coffee cup.

  “Hmm,” David said with the ensuing silence. “What’d I miss?”

  I swallowed my food, shifting in my seat. “Lucy isn’t . . .”

  “Ah.” He lifted his chin. “Not too thrilled with us, I take it.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Gretchen muttered.

  David reached out to touch my cheek. “I’m sorry. You need her right now.”

  I shrugged helplessly. “She doesn’t agree with what we’re doing.”

  He dropped his hand and drummed his fingers on the table. “I’ll talk to Andrew,” he decided. “Don’t worry about a thing. Just eat your breakfast.”

  I smiled inwardly at his confidence. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so sure he could fix this. I doubted he’d endured the wrath that came with threatening the values of someone as steadfastly good as Lucy.

  By the time I’d finished my oatmeal, David still had a side of bacon and a stack of pancakes to get through.

  Gretchen dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “I have to run soon. Revelin isn’t my client, but I offered to help with set-up this afternoon. Should I get the bill?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” David said absentmindedly.

  “Actually, there’s something I need to do,” I said to Gretchen, “and I’d really like you here with me.”

  “Anything,” she said, setting her elbows on the table. “What is it?”

  “I have to call my dad.”

  “Ah. Papa Germaine.” Gretchen moved to the seat next to me, across from David. “Dad’s a little tough,” Gretchen explained to him. “He doesn’t suffer quitters well. Er, not that you’re a quitter, Liv. But you know what I mean.”

  David cleared his throat. “If you need me to talk to him—”

  “I’ve got this one,” I said and smiled at him. I turned to Gretchen. “Can I borrow your cell?”

  She took out her phone, and after a moment of playing with it, she handed it to me with Mr. Germaine pulled up on the screen.

  “You have my dad’s number?” I asked.

  “Of course, silly. In case of emergency.”

  My father picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” he said, robust even through the phone.

  “Dad?”

  “Hello?” he repeated, even louder.

  “Dad! It’s me, Olivia.”

  “Liv, kiddo. What’s up?” he asked, his tone softening. “Whose phone is this?”
>
  “It’s Gretchen’s.”

  “Everything all right?” he asked.

  “Well, yes and no.” I scratched under my nose. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Hang on, I’m on the course.”

  David arched an eyebrow at me.

  “Golfing,” I mouthed.

  He nodded.

  Muffled voices sounded in the background until my dad returned. “Go on, Olivia.”

  “Dad,” I addressed him slowly, suddenly self-conscious with two pairs of eyes glued to me. “I don’t really know how to tell you this.”

  “Out with it, Olivia,” he said. “Come on.”

  I sighed. There was really no use in beating around the bush with my dad. “Well, I’ve ended things with Bill.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Bill. It’s over,” I said and repeated, “I ended things.”

  “What did that son of a bitch do?” Dad asked.

  David pushed his empty plates out of the way and set his forearms on the table, watching intently.

  “No, he didn’t do anything, it was me,” I said quickly, then paused as the words settled over the table. “All me. I did this.”

  “I see.” Dad paused, and I could imagine the wrinkles between his eyebrows deepening. “Why?”

  “I—well, it’s just that . . . I wasn’t happy,” I said.

  “No?” he asked. “You two seemed all right last time we all had dinner. Not that I’d describe Bill as a particularly joyous person.”

  I inhaled a deep breath. Harvey Germaine, a Texan businessman who didn’t bullshit, appreciated the blunt truth above all. “I cheated on him, Dad.”

  With David’s eyes glued to me, I waited through a tense silence for my dad’s reaction. “Are you there?” I asked.

  My dad grunted. “Did Bill kick you out?”

  “No, I . . . I left. For someone else. I am leaving him for someone else. The man I was unfaithful with,” I explained, completely aware of my awkwardness but unable to help it. “He is who I’m leaving Bill for.”

  “Who is?” Dad asked.

  “Um, well, David’s an architect—”

  “Who the hell is David?” Dad asked. “And what kind of man steals another man’s wife?”

  “He’s a good man,” I promised my father as David took my hand. “He’s smart, accomplished, respected—but I made this decision on my own. If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me.”

  “I want you to come home,” Dad said. “We need to talk about this.”

  “I can’t right now,” I said. “I have work. That promotion keeps me really busy.”

  “Come next weekend then.” He cleared his throat. “Put the ticket on my card and whatever else you need. Where are you staying? Do you need a hotel?”

  “I’m at Gretchen’s until I find a place,” I said.

  David’s hand tightened around mine, and I met his quizzical look.

  “Get a hotel until you can get here,” Dad said. “I’ll pay for it. And bring this guy. I want to meet him.”

  “I’d like you to meet him, too.” I cocked my head at David, who jutted his chin in agreement. “I’ll find a time for us to come out,” I said. “I do need to talk to you about the divorce and all that. I have no idea what I’m doing, Dad.”

  “I’m sure you don’t, kid. It won’t be pretty.” He sighed. “What am I saying? It’s a fucking mess. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

  David nodded. I nodded with him. “Yes. Yes, it’s what I want.”

  “Then we’ll handle it. Use my card to get a ticket. Come as soon as you can. And Olivia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Bring him.”

  I wasn’t sure if David could hear every word, but I didn’t think so judging by the fact that he didn’t look scared.

  “Thank you for being supportive,” I said.

  David swiveled in his seat as the waiter approached. Before he could set down the bill, David handed him his credit card.

  “I love you, sugar. Say hi to Gretchen for me,” Dad said. “And don’t make one goddamn move until I meet this guy, all right?” He exhaled a sigh. “I want to know this David isn’t screwing around.”

  I smiled at my overprotective father. “Yes, Dad. Bye.” I hit End, glancing between David and Gretchen. “He didn’t seem that upset, but he wants to meet you, David. Frankly, I don’t think he can wait. He also wants me to get a hotel for the week.”

  “I’ll move some things around,” David said. “We’ll go to Dallas next weekend.”

  I smiled at him appreciatively. “Thanks.”

  “But you’re not getting a hotel,” he added.

  “I’m not?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “In fact, what was that about looking for an apartment?”

  “She’s getting her own place,” Gretchen answered for me, elbows on the table, chin in hand, watching us like we’d been hired as her entertainment.

  David gave a short laugh just as I slow-blinked my irritation at Gretchen. “Thanks,” I told her. “I think we can take it from here.”

  She shrugged. “Just trying to help.”

  David signed the bill, pocketed his credit card, and stood, looking between the two of us. “We’ll finish this discussion in the car, Olivia.” It sounded like a threat, but he held out his hand to me.

  Gretchen’s eyes widened, and she mouthed, “Sorry.”

  David and I waked out of the restaurant hand in hand. “Look at us,” he noted, “engaging in a public display of affection.”

  I laced my fingers through his. Bill and I had held hands plenty of times, but I didn’t realize until this moment how erotic it could be. “I love your hands,” I said softly, because I did. They were big, they overtook mine, and they were capable of making me feel things. So many things. Protected. Loved. Aroused.

  “Okay, this is getting weird,” Gretchen said behind us. “Go bang it out, and I’ll see you two tonight, okay?”

  We hugged good-bye on the sidewalk. Once Gretchen had left, David carried my duffel bag to his Porsche. “I’m definitely sending her a fruit basket for all her trouble,” I said.

  He chuckled. “You and your fruit.”

  Before I could open the car door, David turned and maneuvered me up against the side of the Porsche. He placed his arms on either side of me, trapping me. “You’re not getting your own place.”

  “I can’t live out of a duffel bag at Gretchen’s forever.”

  “Move in with me,” he said. “Today.”

  My mouth fell open. The last forty-eight hours had been a whirlwind. Weren’t we moving fast enough? Wasn’t David even the slightest bit scared or apprehensive about what lay ahead for us? “Move in?” I exclaimed. “Today? That is absurd. And wildly inappropriate. And just . . . no. We can’t do that.”

  His jaw set and his eyes hardened not inches from mine, but he took one hand off the car to gently thread his fingers through my hair. “Today,” he repeated, tilting my head back. “I’m not wasting any more time. I want you in my place,” he paused to kiss my neck, “watching TV in my den,” he added, brushing his lips along my jaw, “cooking in my kitchen,” a peck on my cheek, “fucking in my bed,” a kiss on the lips, “sleeping in my bed, and,” another kiss on the lips, “waking up in my bed. Every day.”

  “David,” I said, utterly breathless from his simultaneously generous and greedy mouth. I didn’t know whether to swoon, protest, or rip off his clothing right there. “It’s so soon. Everyone will talk.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Like I promised, I’ll always be your shield.” He gave me a hard peck on the mouth. “You and I are going to have fun, honeybee.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Tonight. This weekend. Forever,” he said. He tried to open the door, but I stayed planted in front of it, struck dumb, still trying to decide how to react. He picked me up by my waist and turned to set me on the curb so he could get to the car. I practically fainted myself into the seat and watched him round the ho
od with casual confidence. Completely unaffected, even though I was hot and bothered and unsure as to whether or not I had just agreed to move in with a boyfriend I’d officially had less than an hour.

  Once we were pulling away, David said, “So let’s see . . . where should we start? Burberry, Versace, Gucci . . .”

  I suppressed a smile. “It concerns me that you’re so familiar with women’s designers.”

  “Ralph Lauren, Chanel, Prada—aha,” he said when I perked up. “Prada it is. We’ll go there first.”

  I half-laughed, half-gaped. He read me like a book. Was that good or bad?

  “Come on,” David goaded. “The Olivia I know is not this shy. She once told me I was a player who only wanted what I couldn’t have, but look at us now.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get too cocky. It’s only been a couple days.”

  “There she is,” he said, laughing as he shifted gears and sped up.

  4

  David had it in his head that he didn’t want to be disconnected from me for any reason. Therefore, the first stop we made after breakfast was to get me a new cell phone. Ignoring my protests, he added me to his plan and demanded the most capable phone available.

  We parked the car at his apartment and walked the short distance to Magnificent Mile. I was no stranger to nice things—despite Bill’s aversion to spending money, I’d spent my own money on quality over quantity—but for some reason, I felt nervous and out of place. It was a lot to take in, this new life. I learned quickly that if I didn’t follow David into a store that seemed far too expensive, he’d leave me out on the sidewalk. It wasn’t that I didn’t love to shop, but I was uncomfortable spending someone else’s money. He insisted on it, though, threatening to give the salesgirls free rein if I didn’t participate.

  By the third store, a medium-sized boutique with collections by various high-end designers, I’d begun to loosen up and picked out a few things on my own.

  Despite the fact that David wore jeans and a zip-up hoodie that didn’t exactly fit in at these high-end stores, salesgirls flocked to him like flies to honey.

  “We’re looking for a new wardrobe,” David said to one as she approached.