HE WAS A BLUE-EYED, blond-haired prince in the lobby of Chicago Metropolitan Magazine. A mischievous smile kinked one corner of his mouth, complementing the gleam in his eye. My mouth, on the other hand, hung open as I blinked in disbelief.
“Olivia Germaine,” he crooned.
I shook my head as a smile forced its way onto my face. “Greg?”
“The one and only.”
Before me stood the Greg, my ex-best friend and legendary breaker of Gretchen’s heart. I took a tentative step forward, and his arms opened for me. My mouth was still agape when we hugged. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
He pulled me back by my shoulders and held me at arm’s length. “It’s so good to see you. You look fantastic, even better than I remember. A little thin, but – ”
“Greg.”
He slid his hands down my biceps. His eyes, though equally as captivating, were not the same blue as Gretchen’s. They were carefree pools, colored like the sky. “A position with my company opened up here, and I jumped at the chance. I got here a few months ago.”
“Shit,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead. “Gretchen is going to flip.”
“She already knows.”
“What?” I screeched, and he stepped back. “She knows? She hasn’t said anything to me.”
He nodded once. “She doesn’t know I came to see you.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve started things up again – ”
I sucked in a sharp breath and grimaced. “Oh my God.”
“I missed you guys like crazy, Liv. Gretchen – I was stupid to give her up. I want to make things right. I came to Chicago for her.”
I shook my head rapidly. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She doesn’t think we’re ready. But I just couldn’t wait to see you and Lucy.”
“A few months, you said?”
“Yes.”
“Well that explains why she was dateless to Lucy’s wedding.”
He nodded. “We fought over that. I wanted to be there, but she refused. She’s worried I won’t stick around.”
“Oh, Greg,” I said, steepling my hands over my mouth. “Please be careful. If you hurt her again . . .”
“Was it bad?”
“Awful. I don’t think she could take it.”
“I can tell. She’s different – harder or something. But I’m not going anywhere this time. I still love her.”
“You do?” I asked, dropping a palm to my heart.
“I do. And you guys, too.” He reached out and touched my cheek. “I’m sorry I left. I never should have. I miss all those late nights in the dining hall, goofing off when we were supposed to be studying for Bio.”
“I missed you too, but Greg?”
He dropped his arm. “Yeah.”
“What makes this time different?”
“I realize now what we had. Not just me and Gretchen, but all of us. Friendship, love. It’s important. I gave it all up for my career.”
“For your career?”
“Yes, Liv. For the job in Japan.”
“Is that really why? I always thought you left for other reasons. Because you were scared.”
“No. I went for work. I knew it would hurt her, so I didn’t say anything until it was confirmed.”
“But now you realize that that was the wrong way to go about it.”
He flashed me a smile. “Of course. I should have been upfront.”
“Well, you know I can’t lie to her about seeing you.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“So, what are you doing? Where are you working?”
“An accounting firm over on Monroe. I’m close enough that we can have lunch together.”
“I’d like that.”
“We should take a trip up to Notre Dame this weekend, visit a few of our old haunts.”
I gave him a sympathetic smile. “I can’t, Greg.”
“Right,” he said, nodding. “How’s married life? I got your e-mail. Sorry I couldn’t make the wedding.”
“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to reach out.”
“Bill, right?”
“Yep. I’m excited for you to meet him.”
“Gretchen’s got this big work party coming up, we could all go.”
“That sounds fun,” I said, nodding.
“I’ll let you get back to work then.”
“It’s so great to see you,” I whispered as we embraced again.
He handed me his card. “Anytime you want to grab lunch, dinner, drinks, whatever. Just let me know.”
I clasped it between my palms. “I will.”
With a kiss on the cheek, he was gone. Immediately, I ran back to my office to text Gretchen.
~
“Without experiencing a Chicago winter, you cannot call yourself a true Chicagoan.” I paused and stared at the screen as I thought. “What better way to appreciate our city than to endure a Chicago winter?”
I tore my gaze from the screen when I felt eyes on me.
“You have impressive powers of concentration.” David’s deep voice resounded through my office, almost as imposing as he himself.
I fluttered my eyelashes, waiting for him to fade away. When he didn’t, I asked, “How long have you been standing there?”
He smiled and peeled himself from the doorjamb. “Not long.”
I glanced behind him quickly as he crossed the office. “What are you doing here?”
“I just had my follow-up interview.”
“Follow-up?”
“For Most Eligible.”
“I don’t know anything about it.”
“With Lisa. She e-mailed me some questions, but,” he paused, a faint smile forming on his face, “I thought it would be more convenient to stop by.”
“I nixed that idea, but I guess they’re doing it anyway.”
He leaned long arms on my desk and peered at me. “What’re you working on?”
“Editing an article. Fifty Things to do in Chicago This Winter. Serious stuff.”
“There’s enough serious stuff out there already,” he replied.
His eyes watched me pervasively; they somehow made contact with my skin, roving and probing. My attempt to avoid them was futile as I cleaned my desk off.
He checked his watch. “Done for the day?”
“I’m meeting Gretchen for dinner.”
“Where?”
“Just over the river.”
“That’s on my way. I’ll take you.”
“I was going to walk, actually. It’s a nice evening.”
His eyes narrowed. “By yourself? It’ll be dark soon.”
“That’s all right.”
“Not with me, it isn’t.”
I looked up at his definitive tone and couldn’t help the smile on my face. “David, I’m a big girl.”
“I’ll walk with you,” he said, ignoring my declaration. He pushed off the desk and waited with his eyebrows raised expectantly. “Can’t I go for a walk with my friend?”
I shook my head at him and made my way across the office. “Do you always get what you want?” I asked as I shrugged on my jacket.
“That is yet to be determined.”
I rolled my eyes but laughed.
“After you.” He motioned me through the door.
“David Dylan, I thought I recognized your voice.”
We turned, and David nodded at my boss, Beman, as he scurried to catch up with us.
“Mr. Beman,” I started. “I wasn’t aware of a follow-up piece on the Most Eligible feature.”
“It was a good idea Olivia, and Serena said you turned it down. Tsk, tsk.”
“Because I think it’s a waste of resources. 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,” he said, smiling playfully at David, “they’re local celebrities.”
“That may work for the website, but not the publication.”
“I will keep that in mind.” David held the glass door open for me. “Are you two off together?” Beman asked with a hint of amusement.
“No,” I squeaked quickly.
“I see. Good evening, David. Hope to see you around.”
David only raised his eyebrows and followed me out. “That guy is a piece of work. Do you like working for him?” he asked, punching the ‘Down’ button.
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. In the enclosed space, tension mixed with the distinct air David held. It was hard to forget the confusing elevator ride from that night. I remembered my internal battle, knowing it was the moment to stop everything. But I hadn’t. I hadn’t said no, I hadn’t said anything. I almost felt guiltier for that moment than all the things that came after.
Now, it frustrated me how relaxed he 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 opened, 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. 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; my hands were balled into fists, and I felt the tension in my neck. “I’m sorry, I’m just . . . stressed.”
“I can tell. Why?”
“Just things, stupid things.”
“Such as? Work? Home?”
“The house, for one. There’s so much to be done, and it just feels like everything is moving so fast.”
“Moving fast how?”
“Do you really want to know?”
He nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I do.”
“Buying a home is a commitment. 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 almost thirty, and I’m supposed to be this other person. An adult, a wife, a homeowner, a mother.”
“Mother?” he blurted.
“One day. 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 right out of 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. “What?” I asked.
“I meant . . .” he paused. His voice was disjointed, as if his throat were constricting. “I meant second thoughts about the house.”
“Oh,” I breathed in a rush of air, too conscious of the flush creeping up my neck. “No. I was hesitant to move out of the city at first. Maybe I still am. It’s not the house, though.”
His hand shot out and yanked me back when I stepped off the curb. “Can’t you see there’s a car coming?” he chastised.
We both looked at his hand on my arm, and he dropped it after a moment. “Continue.”
I sighed. “I’m boring you. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not the house, you said. Then what is it?”
Once I’d made a show of checking for cars, we continued across the street. “I guess I just don’t know when everything happened. 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. There’s no start to your future. It’s already happening. 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 would be no waiting. When I looked into your eyes at that theater – ”
“David,” I admonished quietly, scanning the faces of passersby. His words hit me forcefully, diffusing as much guilt through me as disbelief. If he finished his sentence . . . If I let myself believe him for even a moment . . . I knew I’d fall quickly and painlessly 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 it. I just said I wasn’t quite ready.”
“It’s just money. Don’t let that get in the way. 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 he 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 mused.
“They just are.” I watched our bodies morph and distort in the window of an empty bank. “You’re there,” I said quietly. “That’s how they’re different.”
I wanted to ask him why he was walking with me after he had told me he couldn’t fuck me again. Didn’t he know it was impossible for us to be anything other than what we had been that night? 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. “Clearly I need a vacation,” I joked.
“Where would you go?”
“I’m not being serious.”
“But why not?”
I made a face.
“Don’t you ever travel? Everyone likes to vacation.”
“Not Bill.”
“I remember. 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, like all the other days in 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. You’re going 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 chuckled. “That’s never happened to me.”
“I never stop thinking about work, no matter how hard I try. I’m always thinking about how the vacation is setting me back. And 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. And I checked my e-mail, so I wouldn’t miss anything important. And the things is, I never did miss anything, because at the end of the day, life goes on without me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. The office runs, and life goes on. When I was an assistant editor, I undertook most of 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.”
“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. “We’re here.”
He peered into the restaurant, scanning the crowd. When his eyes returned, they were calm, and they made me feel 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 having you around,” I confessed. “I know I’m tense. But with you, I feel . . . better.” I bit my bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have run out on you the way I did. 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 in a short burst of air.
“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?”
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 determination. “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 divulged the reason for our emergency dinner so when she pulled back, I shook my head at her. “You big fat liar.”
Her eyes widened fractionally and then narrowed. “That asshole. He went to see you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
She groaned and pulled open the door to the restaurant. “I knew Greg would do that, even though I specifically said – ”
“Pause. 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. He moved here this summer, but I didn’t agree to see him until a few weeks ago.”
“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 and plopped into my 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 he’d 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, laughing with me.
“How’s the sex?”
“We haven’t done it yet. Er, again.”
“What?” I screeched.
“If we sleep together, then I’m really in it.”
“If I know the two of you, 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 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 that 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?”
“The PR firm is hosting a soft opening next weekend. I’m supposed to invite people.”
“All right, count us in.”
“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 would try, didn’t I? 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.” Revelin. David’s hotel. I rolled my lips together and nodded, trying to hide my surprise. Her eyes skimmed my face knowingly.
“What?” I asked when she didn’t speak.
“I saw you earlier.”
“Where?”
“Out front, with David.”
“Oh.” My body warmed with embarrassment, and I tucked some hair behind my ear.
“He kissed you.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not what it looked like. It was just a peck on the cheek.”
“Um, that’s exactly what it looked like. Why are you even together?”
“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 nervously rotated 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?”
I shook my head emphatically.
“Are you lying?”
I just blinked at her, trying to look offended.
“I know his type,” she said, her tone heavy with warning. “He’s a player with a capital ‘P’.”
“I know that.”
“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 would 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 were scattered over the table. I studied them, forming them into abstract patterns.
“Olivia?”
I nodded finally. No one had more concerns than myself. I knew I wasn’t the only person under his 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.
“So I guess you still have feelings for him,” she said, sighing.
I opened my mouth, gulping for air. “I don’t know. He’s helping out with the Oak Park house.”
Her eyebrows joined. “Isn’t that weird?”
“Of course it’s weird, but you were there after the wedding. What was I supposed to do when Andrew brought it up? Forbid them from seeing each other? That wouldn’t raise a red flag at all.”
“Well, look. He’s with Dani now anyway, right?”
“Seems that way,” I said, directing my scowl at the table.
“So let her have him. If he’s going to break someone’s heart, I’d rather it was hers than yours.”
I smiled so she wouldn’t notice my dejection.
“Speaking of the house,” she continued, “any news?”
“We should hear back any day now.”
“Are you ready for all that?”
“I don’t know, I guess so.” My conversation with David, fresh in my mind, hadn’t given me any answers. But as usual, opening up to him was easy and left me feeling better. It also left me more confused.
“Well, I hate that you’ll be leaving the city, but I am excited for you. This is a big step.”
I nodded. “You’ll come visit, won’t you?”
“Of course,” she said, but her smile waned.