“It’s Maria.”
I dropped the powder brush into my makeup bag and glared at his reflection. “What?” I repeated loudly.
His fingers flew over the screen as he typed. “I forgot to cancel on her tonight.”
To cancel? But why would Maria even think they were going together in the first place if he’d ended things with her? “You’re kidding, right?” I asked.
“I invited her ages ago, and with everything going on, I just forgot.” David looked up, caught my expression in the mirror, and waved the screen in my direction. “Don’t be upset. I’m telling her now.”
“Telling her what?” I asked.
“That I don’t need her to come.”
I whirled from the counter and gaped at him. “You haven’t broken things off with her?”
“There’s nothing to really break off,” he said as he typed. “I just call her when I need her.”
Disgust roiled through me at the insinuation. “Need her?”
David slowly raised his eyes, as if realizing how that had sounded. At least he had the decency to look sheepish. “For, uh, events and stuff.”
“Tell her that you will not be needing her for anything, ever again.”
He set down his phone. “I will, Olivia. Trust me, this is a non-issue. I’ll tell her next time—”
“Tell her now.”
“I’m not saying that over a text message.”
I was leaving my husband for David. How could he not have even thought to reach out to Maria yet? “You need to . . . to . . .” I blanched, turning back to the counter. “Why do I even have to tell you to do this?”
“Hey. I’m sorry,” he said, coming up behind me and encircling my waist. “Maria and I have been friends for years, so I’d rather say something like that in person. But I’ll call her tonight. She won’t care. It’s not like she was my girlfriend.”
“Tonight?” I asked. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He inhaled and with a moan, said, “Goddamn, you smell amazing.”
I studied his eyes in the reflection. They’d always told me the truth, and they conveyed nothing but sincerity now. I relaxed in his grip.
He picked up my eye shadow palette and examined the rainbow of nudes, pinks, and purples. “Why bother with this shit anyway? You look perfect right now. Just go to the party as you are.”
“In my robe and no makeup?” I laughed. “I think I might get a few looks.”
“Jealous looks. This robe was the best purchase of the day.” He slid his palm over the front of it. His hands felt so fucking good on me, but I shook my head at him. He’d had his chance at sex earlier. Now that I was almost done getting ready, I wanted to wait until we got home.
Besides, each time we touched and reignited a spark, the harder it was to resist giving in to the burn. The tension building between us would make for an explosive first time as a couple.
“All right,” he said, releasing me. “You can put on your dress—only so I can take it off later.”
He stepped aside and pulled aftershave from a mirrored cabinet. The irresistible smell instantly transported me back to Lucy’s office, to the first time David and I had kissed after I’d done up his bowtie.
When he’d left the bathroom, I finished applying my makeup, then slipped into my dress. I stepped back to study my reflection.
I hadn’t realized how long my golden-brown hair had become. It now sat a few inches below my shoulders. I’d parted it off to the side and curled it into a soft wave. I turned to the side in a Versace column dress nearly the color of my skin—tight and long-sleeved, a slinky fabric that shimmered in the light. With a high back and a deep “V” that plunged down the front, I couldn’t wear a bra, but my small breasts didn’t need one. I opted for dark pink lipstick and rosy cheeks since I was otherwise colorless. Plum eye shadow and carefully applied mascara in Noir darkened my green eyes. Despite my four-inch heels, the dress still grazed the floor.
David entered the bathroom, one hand fumbling with his cufflink until he looked up and paused in the doorway. In the mirror, I watched his eyes skim over me, and his hands dropped to his sides. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “Give me a spin, gorgeous.”
I smiled and turned against the counter. He whistled low and came to me, pinning my hips against the counter and taking my face in his hands.
“A nude dress?” he whispered. “Do you want me walking around with a hard-on all night?”
“That’s the idea,” I said between breaths.
He ran one hand down my neck and spread it over my right breast. As he slowly closed it, he squeezed my nipple in the curve between his index and middle fingers. “Not sure how I feel about this,” he said, as it hardened.
“You don’t like what you see?” I asked.
He raised his eyes. “I don’t like what other men see.”
“What other men?” I asked. “You’ll be the only man there as far as I’ll know.”
“Mmm.” He wet his lips. “As long as you and your perfect tits don’t leave my sight.”
I swallowed as arousal crested in me. “I don’t plan to.”
He brushed some hair from my face, and his forehead creased. “There will be photographers there tonight. They’ll take your picture.”
“I figured.” I sighed. “I don’t think I’m ready for that, David. It would be tasteless considering everything that’s happening.”
He frowned and brushed the pad of his thumb along the hollow of my cheek. “I was looking forward to showing you off.”
“Showing me off? Maria’s a hard act to follow.”
David released me suddenly and stepped back, a frown firmly on his face. “Don’t say that.”
“I’m teasing,” I said, half-rolling my eyes. “But, come on, David. Maria is like Gisele Bündchen 2.0 . . . she’s stunning.”
“Are you kidding?” Genuine shock crossed his face. “Olivia, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. After everything we’ve been through, you must know that. Don’t you?”
My tummy fluttered with butterflies. Though I appreciated his conviction, objectively, I couldn’t compare to a supermodel. “You’re sweet,” I said with a shy smile.
He took my shoulders and turned me to the mirror. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kissed the top of my head. His fingers trailed my neck as he pulled my hair into a loose ponytail. “Nobody even compares. I’m not blind. I know Maria is beautiful, but she’s nowhere near you, honeybee.” His hands complemented his words as he slid them down and over my backside, inspiring a burning need within me. “I had to know you the moment I saw you. That’s never happened to me. Any man would be lucky to have you, Olivia.”
I stared at his reflection. “I only care that you want me.”
“I want you, all of you, any way I can have you,” he murmured, kissing my neck. “And anywhere.”
Words failed me. David’s model good looks—his sharp, defined features, jet-black hair, and heavy, serious eyebrows—put him in another league. The cleft of his chin and the fullness of his bottom lip softened an otherwise razorblade jawline. He could’ve been a movie star, and he was telling me I was beautiful? I searched his chestnut-brown eyes, finding only honesty.
“Now, tie me up, would you?” he asked.
With my quizzical look, he raised his chin in the air to expose an undone bowtie.
I turned, fixed him up, and patted his chest once he was ready.
He grabbed my wrists and kissed one of my palms. “One of the best and worst nights of my life,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.
“Tonight?” I asked, alarmed.
“No—the night of the bowtie. You don’t know how badly I wanted you while I was also scared to death of driving you away.”
I melted into him as I remembered how I’d done up his bowtie right before an electric, sinful, and terrifying first kiss—after which I’d immediately had to face my husband.
“I love knowing that my bowt
ie is the only one you’ll be tying from now on,” he said.
I loved knowing that, too, and I showed him with a kiss to rival our very first one.
* * *
David and I fought again in the car. He insisted on sneaking us through the back entrance, but I ordered him to walk the red carpet and receive the praise he deserved for his work—even if I couldn’t allow myself to stand by his side. He’d been grumbling when I’d slipped onto the sidewalk a few car lengths before we were due to hit the entrance and its mess of photographers.
Since Gretchen hadn’t arrived, and I didn’t know anybody at the party, I checked my coat and headed straight for a temporary bar that’d been set up in the lobby, then ordered drinks for David and me.
While I waited, I pulled out my new phone and checked my e-mail.
From: Bill Wilson
Sent: Sat, November 10 05:48 PM CST
To: Olivia Germaine
Subject: Hey
Tomorrow will be hard. I guess I feel like Sunday’s our day. Was our day. This has been a lot to process. I still feel a little like I’m in a nightmare. Andrew caught me up on some details. I’m worried about you & don’t trust this David guy AT ALL. He has no relationship history to speak of according to Andrew but many many flings. I worry he thinks this is some sort of game?
I get that we have things to work on, Liv. I feel like I’ve been a good husband, but I’m willing to listen to whatever it is you think went wrong. You’ve always been hard to get through to, though, so I hope you realize this will take two.
You know how I feel about therapy, but I’ll do it for us. Forget this guy, Liv. He’s a womanizer. Come home so we can work this out. It’ll take time, but I know I can forgive everything one day.
Love, Bill
Jesus. I’d wanted Bill to put aside his anger and face reality, but although he seemed to be coming at things from a calmer perspective, he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that we were through.
I thanked the bartender for two tumblers of scotch—a rich and flavorful ode to David’s and my first meeting—and took a long sip of mine.
Did Bill’s words have merit? The logical, sensible person I’d been throughout our entire marriage said yes. I could see Bill’s point. Looking in from the outside, my relationship with David had all kinds of red flags. But I was trying to break free of that mold and learn to find—and trust in—my instinct again.
Bill couldn’t possibly understand any of that, so I couldn’t let his possibly valid points get under my skin.
I looked into my nearly empty scotch glass. I was a nervous drinker, and Bill’s e-mail had definitely put me on edge. After a beat, I finished it off and started in on David’s. He’d probably have mingling to do anyway, and I wasn’t sure when he’d get around to finding me.
“Thirsty much?” asked a familiar male voice.
I turned and smiled. “Mr. Brian Ayers.”
My new friend always looked handsome, and tonight was no exception. Brian wore a trim, deep purple velour tuxedo, a silver button-down shirt, and a matching striped bowtie. I couldn’t help but smile at his quirky style. As if it wasn’t Brian enough, he’d topped off his outfit with pristine white tennis shoes.
“How are you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
“No date tonight?”
“Nah.”
I raised my eyebrows at him. “And why not?”
He shrugged. “Not feeling anyone lately,” he explained. Brian’s blue eyes and long blond hair were even brighter against his tan. It didn’t take a genius to know by his looks or the muscular arms hiding under his blazer that most girls would find him a catch. So why was he still single?
Since Brian and David were friends, I wondered if he knew about us yet. If he did, he didn’t give anything away. As I considered mentioning it, Gretchen and Greg walk into the event, heading to the bar before they even spotted us.
When Gretchen saw me, she practically ran over. “Hel-lo,” she called, then tossed over her shoulder, “Greg, honey. Get me a drink?”
Gretchen sent him off with a kissy sound.
“Nice to have someone to order around, eh?” Brian asked her.
She glanced at Brian, and her face soured. “Oh. Didn’t see you there. Can you excuse us?”
“Certainly,” he said, rolling his eyes once she’d turned her back. The two weren’t particularly friendly—something to do with Brian turning down Gretchen’s advances—but it surprised me that they still weren’t over it.
“How’s it going so far?” Gretchen whispered once she had me alone.
Despite having Bill’s e-mail fresh in my thoughts, I easily refocused on my dreamy day with David. “Sort of amazing,” I gushed with a big smile.
“You look fucking amazing. You’re glowing in this dress. Tell me everything.”
“You might flip out,” I warned.
“Tell me.”
“Well,” I said, “after breakfast, David took me shopping. And basically bought me an entire boutique’s worth of stuff.”
“Shut up,” she said, nearly jumping up and down. Her eyes scanned my dress. “Who?”
“Versace,” I said, waving a hand over myself. “But there was Prada, Chloé, McQueen—just come over, and I’ll show you everything.”
She made a noise from the back of her throat and closed one eye as if to brace herself. “Shoes, too?”
“Yep.”
“Please tell me the sex wasn’t as good as you remember so I’m not raging jealous.”
“We haven’t done it yet as a ‘couple.’ He wants to wait until we get back tonight so it’s special or something.”
“Oh, God,” Gretchen said as her eyes rolled up into her head. “He’s perfect.”
“What’s that?” Greg asked, handing her a drink.
“You,” Gretchen said, pecking him on the lips. “You’re perfect, sweetie.”
“Where’s David?” Greg asked.
“We came in separately because of the photographers,” I explained. “I’m sure he’s circulating the party.”
“Speaking of which,” Gretchen said, rising onto the balls of her feet and waving at a woman I presumed to be a colleague from her PR firm, “I’m going to check in with work.”
Once she’d left us alone, Greg rubbed my back. “How’re you holding up? Gretchen told me everything.”
“All things considered, I could be a lot worse,” I said. “How about you? Work it all out with Gretchen?”
“Hope so, Livvy. I told her that once we’re more settled, I want us to get a place together.”
I raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t imagine Gretchen wanting to move that quickly—or Greg, either, for that matter. I’d hardly gotten to know the person he was now, but the guy I’d been close with back in college had clearly been easily scared off by commitment.
“How does that make you feel?” I asked cautiously.
He exhaled forcefully. “Great.”
“It’s okay to be nervous about that, Greg.”
He winked. “I’m not.”
“All right, just don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I warned.
“Greg.” David’s deep voice came from behind me just as his arm rested across my shoulders. He stuck out his other hand to shake Greg’s hand.
“Hey, man,” Greg said, grinning. “Welcome to the family.”
David also grinned, but it was directed down at me. “Right,” he said. He slid a hand along the nape of my neck, lifted my hair, and let it fall onto my back. “I missed you out there. Next time I want you by my side.”
His hand in my hair and against my skin felt so nice, so reassuring, that I closed my eyes and nodded. “Next time, yes.”
He whispered his next words near my ear. “You have any idea how incredible you look in that dress? Every man in here is drooling over you.”
I opened my eyes and smiled slyly. “They are not.”
“They are. And I don’t love it, but it’ll be fine as lon
g as they keep their distance.”
I gave him a teasing smile, but he didn’t seem to think it was funny. Greg disappeared. David continued playing with my hair, murmuring about how good I looked, until a client from his New York project interrupted us. David kept me close with an arm around my shoulders as they chatted.
I looked around for Gretchen or Greg. When I didn’t see either of them, I turned my attention back and joined the conversation David was now having with multiple people. The wives in the group couldn’t tear their eyes from him, but neither could I. As he relayed details about the development of the hotel, most of which flew over my head, I admired his easy confidence. It took a great deal of effort not to stop him for an impromptu make-out session, or at least press a kiss to his square jaw, the only place I could reach without him bending to meet me.
While we made our way around the party, I was no longer walking by his side; I was floating. He never lost contact with me, either holding my hand, my shoulders, or touching my hair. When women inevitably flirted with him, I linked my arm around his waist, and he answered by squeezing me closer.
As one woman ignored her husband to gush about the hotel, I decided I couldn’t take any more flirting without a stronger drink. I tried to tug my hand out of his, and he looked down at me immediately. “What, baby?”
I glanced at the woman apologetically, because she’d had to pause mid-sentence. “I’m just going to refresh our drinks,” I told him. “Excuse me.”
“Wait,” David said, dragging me back by my hand.
“What?”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and drew me close for a kiss. Embarrassed by the display, I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip. “Don’t be long,” he murmured before releasing me.
I crossed the lobby completely flushed and on cloud nine. Since a mass of people crowded around the makeshift bar, I opted for the dark and sexy lounge instead, where David and I had gotten drinks during Revelin’s soft opening.
I set down my purse and had just put in my drink order when I turned and saw a man coming toward me. Even in the dim lighting, I recognized his gait, as familiar to me as anything. A fuming, disheveled-looking Bill marched in my direction.
Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set Page 61