IN HER BABY BLUE PARTY DRESS, Gretchen twirled when I called her name. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, as I approached the hotel entrance. “I need another drink.”
“Don’t you have to work the door?”
“No, not my client,” she said, crooking her elbow in mine. She guided me inside with a quick step. “And don’t try to tell me you didn’t know this was David’s project. Sneaky bitch.”
I bit my lip and considered feigning innocence, but I knew she’d see through it. We were at the soft opening for David’s hotel, Revelin Resort. I’d been there once before with David, when it was under construction, and the exterior alone had had me envisioning sultry black sand beaches. That concept was even more prevalent now as I scanned the interior. The hotel had onyx-colored marble floors veined with pearly silver. Large aquariums with unnaturally blue water flanked the lobby. Even the fish matched the interior.
Someone dressed in head-to-toe black directed us toward a doorway situated between aquariums. We passed under the glass bottom into a sultry lounge. It was darker than the lobby, with low-hanging glass chandeliers that gave the space an ethereal glow. Red velvet seating lined the room, inviting and attractive against shadowy walls.
“I love sexy Liv, by the way,” Gretchen said, raising her eyebrows at my outfit and waving down a bartender.
I smiled triumphantly. With heavy eyeliner and glossy pink lips, I was channeling my inner-retro. My black strapless jumpsuit was skin-tight and proudly displayed my slight but full cleavage.
When Gretchen handed me a drink, we clinked glasses. “Where’s Bill?” she asked after she’d taken a sip.
“He went north with some friends for the weekend.”
“He fucking loves fishing, doesn’t he?”
I laughed. “He loves getting out of the city and yes, fishing too.”
“You’d think he grew up in the country or something.” She checked her phone. “Wait here. I have to get Greg at the door.”
I drifted over to the aquarium that separated the lounge from the lobby, drawn in by the comforting blue glow. I sipped my Belvedere and cranberry while gazing at the aimless fish.
Something about Gretchen’s comment stuck with me. Bill had actually grown up on a small farm an hour outside the city where his very Catholic parents still lived. He worked hard now because they’d instilled that in him as a child. His weekends were spent with his parents, tending to things around the farm. During the week, his parents had him booked solid with all sorts of lessons, tutoring and a part-time job.
He’d had one long-term relationship before we met. He didn’t talk about her often, but I knew that he hadn’t been the one to end it. In the beginning of our relationship, he’d given me the impression that he’d intended to marry her. I sometimes wondered how things would be different if she hadn’t broken it off.
I started when I felt a presence behind me, cursing when I spilled alcohol down my cleavage.
“Olivia,” David greeted, drawing up next to me.
“How do you that?” I mumbled, accepting a napkin from him and mopping the fabric with it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice frayed with annoyance.
I balled up the napkin and tucked some hair behind my ear. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I sighed and snuck a glance up at him. “Gretchen invited us.”
His expression was unreadable as his gaze followed the fish intently. He blinked down, letting his eyes leer over my outfit. They swooped up to my face, and he took a measured sip from his glass. “Well, you never fail to impress, Olivia. Never.”
I didn’t know how to take the wryness in his voice. He remained impassive with one hand deep in his pocket and the other curled tightly around his glass.
“Um,” I said, trying not to sound intimidated. “The hotel turned out wonderfully. You must be so pleased.”
He snorted and nodded to my near-empty glass. “What are you having?”
“Trying to get me drunk, are you?” I teased. “That’s not very gentlemanly.”
“Who gave you this idea that I’m such a gentleman?” He leaned in closely and whispered, “Because they were entirely mistaken.”
I inhaled deeply at his liquor-spicy breath on my skin. A wolfish grin before he strolled away let me know he had noticed my reaction. This wasn’t the same restrained David I had been dealing with lately. This was the David in Lucy’s doorway, who was growing impatient. David from the cold stairwell, who took what he wanted.
I followed him to the bar, lured by his words, hooked by his trailing scent. “How’s that view at night?” I ventured.
He cleared his throat and looked over my head. “Where’s your husband?”
“Fishing,” I said flatly. His brown eyes dropped to mine, and he surveyed me like a predator would – with a tense jaw and a lusty, narrow-eyed stare. His maleness was in full force, and I wavered slightly in the fog of his virility. The thrill he inspired in me held as much fear as it did excitement. He scoffed and uttered something to himself.
“What?” I asked.
He only handed me my drink and turned to tip the bartender.
“Hey, you must be Bill,” Greg said from behind us. David just stared at Greg’s hand as it hung between them. “Incredible,” he continued. “You are exactly as I pictured.”
“That is most definitely not Bill,” Gretchen muttered as she walked up.
I introduced them, and David finally shook his hand with a firm pump and a curt nod. His mood was noticeably dark and edgy, as if he might explode any moment. It made me feel edgy and slightly out of control; I wanted to know exactly what it would take to make him snap – and what would happen when he did.
“Great, what’s he doing here?” Gretchen’s voice wormed its way into my thoughts. I followed her glare to Brian Ayers, who escorted a pretty girl our way. He adjusted his patterned bowtie and pushed a hand through his blond locks.
“What happened between you two, anyway?” I asked quietly.
“Absolutely nothing. I only needed one date to see that he was just another self-absorbed artist trying to cram his shitty photos down everyone’s throats.”
“Whoa. You saw his photography?” I asked with an arched eyebrow.
“I didn’t have to.”
“So nothing happened at all? Not even a teeny-tiny kiss?”
“No,” she insisted, but she fidgeted with her purse. “Give me some credit. Like I said, he’s a prick.”
When I looked again, Brian was at my side with a scowl that told me he’d heard her last comment.
“Hello, lovely Olivia.” He kissed me on both cheeks. His mouth drooped. “Gretchen,” he acknowledged before looking away.
“Isn’t there some fabulous art exhibit you should be at?” she asked, batting her eyelashes with exaggeration.
“Yes. This is my work.” He motioned to a series of black and white photographs displayed on the walls. They were entirely different from the ones I’d seen in his apartment. In the one nearest to me, a nude woman leaned against a doorframe, her body curved like an ‘S’, and her head resting against her raised arm. She stared at us with all-knowing eyes, amusement dancing on her parted lips.
“You took those?” Gretchen asked skeptically.
He nodded. “Sure did, princess.” She responded to his endearment with a frown. “David recommended my work,” he continued, “being the good friend that he is.”
“It’s just business,” David replied stoically.
“Well, you certainly are a lovely crowd this evening, but if you’ll excuse us,” Brian said, winking at me again.
“So where’s Dani tonight?” Gretchen asked loudly. She sipped her drink through a tiny straw, avoiding my glare.
“Lucy’s sister?” Greg asked, turning to David. “Are you two dating?”
“No.”
I raised my drink to hide the smile that was forming.
“Oh. I was under the impression that you were.” Gretchen’s statement pitched at the end, conveying her piqued curiosity.
He shrugged. “We’ve been out, but we’re not really looking for the same thing.”
“Which is?” Gretchen prodded.
Irritation marked his face, though I knew better than to think that would deter Gretchen. “She would prefer something more . . . permanent.”
“Oh, hmm,” Gretchen said, nodding. “Well gosh, that’s really too bad. Dani is a catch. She’s definitely worth becoming exclusive for.”
I fingered a piece of hair and bit my lip near bloody as Gretchen threw me a hasty smirk.
“I agree completely,” David said. “She will make someone very happy.”
“Someone else?” Gretchen ventured.
“Someone else,” he agreed. “I have yet to make it official though, so I would appreciate your discretion.”
“Scout’s honor,” Gretchen said, holding up three fingers. “So then where’s your date tonight?”
I gave her an exasperated look.
“If you’ll excuse me, this is Maria now,” he said, pulling out his phone.
When he stepped away, I pinched her. “What are you – ” I stopped to glance at Greg. “Greg, can you give us a minute? What are you doing?” I asked when he’d left.
“This is for your protection, Liv. I told you already, he’s bad news. I don’t know why you’re still consorting with him.”
“We’re friends,” I said defensively.
“He can’t even stick with one girl for more than a few dates.”
“I don’t care who he sticks with,” I retorted. “It’s none of my business.”
“Then stop eye-fucking him, and get it together. Anyone can see that you’re ready to jump each other’s bones.”
I gasped and covered my mouth. “I am doing no such thing!”
“He doesn’t look very happy with Maria at the moment,” she observed over my shoulder. I turned and noticed his drawn features as he held the phone to his ear. He stood rigidly with one arm crossed over his chest as he appeared to be listening.
“Come on,” she said. “I have to break the seal.”
“I’m good,” I replied with a smug smile. I picked a quiet spot amongst the velvety cushions to people watch and wait for Gretchen. I was not alone long, for an attractive man of considerable height was suddenly looming over me.
“May I?” he asked, motioning to the space next to me.
“Sure,” I said, scooting aside.
“Are you part of the PR team?”
“No, just a guest. You?”
“We handle the advertising for this place. Steve,” he said, offering his hand.
“Olivia.”
“So Olivia, what do you do?”
I told him, and he smiled genially, remarking on how much he’d enjoyed an article the magazine had just published. He was good-looking, I noticed as he spoke. I fleetingly thought that I should introduce him to Gretchen before remembering that she was no longer available. He laughed at one of my comments and touched my knee.
“She’s with me.”
We glanced up at the same moment, my eyes taking a little longer to travel up David’s towering body.
“I’m sorry,” Steve said, making a show of getting up. “Just being friendly,” he added.
David did not move aside. When Steve stood, the men were almost nose to nose, except that David still held a couple inches over his imaginary adversary. And my David is infinitely more handsome, I thought. Wait – my David? Steve shuffled around him and slinked away as David took his place beside me.
“Is it necessary to remind you,” I started, “that we are not together and that implying so could give people the wrong idea?”
“He was bothering you.”
“He was being a perfect – we were just chatting,” I squeaked. I inched closer to him, hoping to get a whiff of the David cologne cocktail.
“Regardless, he should have checked your hand before embarrassing himself by trying to pick you up.”
“Like you did?” I asked, pursing my lips.
“That’s different.”
“How?”
He leaned back against the cushion so that I had to shift marginally to look at him. I was close enough that I wouldn’t have to move much further before my lips would land on his. His eyes traveled down my neck to my breasts before shooting back up to my face. “It just is.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He only grunted.
“Why is it all right for you to hit on me and not him?”
“Damn it, Olivia,” he hissed. “Don’t provoke me. It’s inappropriate for me to answer that.”
I reeled back marginally, and he reacted instantly, pulling me back by my upper arm. A familiar thrumming ignited throughout my body, and I gasped softly.
“Is there a problem here?” Steve asked from above, glowering at David’s hand on my bicep. He loosened his grip slightly and then dropped his hand.
“No, it’s fine,” I answered hastily.
Their eyes locked on each other, and I sensed David’s breathing deepen beside me. Steve looked between us, wariness etched in his fine features. I dismissed him with a thank you. I had experienced David when he was cross, and I didn’t want to be the cause of any problems.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling on his collar and glaring after Steve. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t,” I said softly. “You’re upset. Does it have to do with Maria?”
He looked confused. “What?”
“You seemed angry on the phone.”
“Irritated is more like it.”
“Did she stand you up?”
He snorted. “No. For some unknown reason, she was upset that I didn’t invite her. But that’s not what is bothering me.”
“What then?”
“I don’t really feel comfortable talking about it.”
It was his turn to brush me off, but I didn’t intend to let him. Unfortunately, Gretchen picked that moment to drop onto the bench across from us.
“Hey,” she said with a stretched smile.
“Hi,” I said cautiously.
“Who’s the hottie that won’t stop staring at you?”
“Who?”
She indicated across the bar.
“Oh. That’s Steve.”
“Steve,” David muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger.
“He is s-e-x-y. But you probably don’t think so, do you?” she asked me.
I shifted and gave her a look.
“Liv never did go for the blonds,” Gretchen explained to David. “But that’s okay, more for me.”
“You smell like tequila,” I told her.
“I took a couple shots.” She leaned forward and put a finger over her lips. “Shh. Don’t tell Greg.”
“Aren’t you working?”
“No, no . . . I’m just here to party.”
“Okay,” I said, stifling a laugh.
“I’m going to talk to Steve.”
“Steve? What about Greg?” I asked.
“Oh, he won’t care,” she said, waving her hand at me. “Look but don’t touch, right?” she shouted and bolted upright. She swayed slightly and steadied herself on David’s shoulder. “Be back in a minute.”
I searched the room for Greg until I noticed that David was staring at me. He shook his head and swiped a hand over his face. “I’ll be a saint if I get through this night,” he muttered.
“You’re upset.”
“You are who’s pissing me off,” he said suddenly. “Not Maria. You.”
“Why?” I asked, trying to pinpoint anything in particular I might have done.
“You show up here, looking like that . . . .”
“Like what?” I asked, looking down at the jumpsuit.
“I want to rip that fucking thing off you.”
I sucked in a breath and flushed. His brazenness fired a sharp thrill through me. “David,” I exhaled in admonishment.
“Fuck.” He sat forward abruptly, scrubbed his face with both hands and looked over at me. “I should go.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked as he stood.
“Hey, Liv, over here!” Gretchen called, waving me over.
I lifted a finger in her direction.
She said something to Steve and hurried over. “We’re all going upstairs to see the view from one of the rooms,” she told us. “You can come too, David,” she added with a smirk.
I glanced at him. “David was just leaving, actually.”
“Great,” she said, shrugging. “Let’s go.”
“Wait.” David caught my forearm gently. “Is he going?”
Gretchen and I looked in the direction he had jutted his chin.
“Who, Steve?” she asked. “Why, yes, it’s his room.” She grinned.
David blinked slowly and released my arm. With another glance at Steve, he said, “I’ll take you to the roof.”
“What about us?” Gretchen asked.
“You, as in, all of you.”
“Great,” she squealed and ran off.
“Mercurial much?” I muttered to myself as I trailed him out of the lounge.
David and I piled into one elevator with Gretchen’s co-workers while she hung back to wait for Steve. The girls had been rowdy in the elevator bank, but now they were silent.
Perfume filled the tiny space, and one girl flipped hair over her shoulder. “You’re David Dylan, right?”
He nodded.
“The place looks so good. I was just telling my friend that it’s gonna be the hottest hotel in Chicago.”
I was about to smirk when he gave her a prize grin. “What about the country?” he asked.
She giggled nervously. “That too.” There was whispering from the back of the elevator.
I looked away and crossed my arms. The whispers stopped when I felt David clear some hair from my neck. I whipped my eyes back to him, and he smiled barely. Just the ghost of his reassuring touch sent chills over my skin. The elevator dinged, and everyone waited as we held each other’s gaze.
I blinked and stepped out when someone cleared her throat. The girls tore across the hall to the penthouse suite. Despite their excitement, David was calm as he extracted the key from his pocket and opened the door. I glanced up and around the dimly-lit, romantic space. When I looked back, he and I were alone in the foyer.
“Flirt,” I accused.
“You know I don’t give a fuck about them,” he replied without missing a beat, his voice low with bass.
I bit the inside of my lip. “I thought you were leaving.”
“Not while Steve is around.”
There was a thundering knock on the door behind us. Another group flew by me when David let them in, and Gretchen grabbed my hand. “This is bananas,” she said. My eyes scanned the expansive suite quickly as I let her drag me onto the roof. Outside, an elongated swimming pool ran the length of the deck, glowing turquoise on the otherwise dark roof. Glass partitions edged the perimeter, allowing for an unobstructed panoramic view.
“Look,” someone called, “you can swim out over the city!”
Gretchen dropped my hand and rushed off, giving me a chance to admire my surroundings. What I’d seen with David on our previous trip to the roof was nothing compared to now. The pool jutted off the side of the building, hovering over the world below. As if you were floating. The opposite end of the pool showcased the first floor of the suite.
“Beer?” David asked from next to me.
“Where’d you get that?”
He leaned in. “My secret.” He twisted off the cap and handed it to me before taking a swig from his own bottle. “Cheers.”
“Thanks,” I said hesitantly, trying to read his fluctuating mood.
We slowly followed the edge of the pool toward the group, as if we didn’t actually want to get there. He looked into his beer bottle. “My family . . . They really liked you. Jessa too. She says you have an amazing energy or something.”
“I liked her also. A lot. Too much.”
“And that means . . . ?”
I cleared some hair from my shoulder. One of the girls squealed ahead of us. “Just that I had a strange urge to tell her all my secrets.”
“Secrets, huh?”
I nodded fractionally.
“That girl has a way of getting people to open up.”
“Must run in the family.” I cursed silently, knowing the comment hedged dangerous territory.
He didn’t respond right away, but eventually asked, “Do you feel like I’ve opened you up?”
“Ah, well . . . Maybe a little,” I said, embarrassed.
“I only wish it were more,” he said casually. Even in the dark I could feel him peering down at me, trying to see me clearer, the way he sometimes did.
Without even looking at him, I said, “That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“The way you look at me. The way I look at you. It gives too much away. That’s what your sister told me. For Christ’s sake,” I said, turning to face him. “She thought we were dating.”
“So I can’t look at you anymore?”
“Just don’t like at me like that.”
“Like what exactly?”
“She said . . .” I paused, not sure I should proceed. “She said she’d never seen you look at anyone the way you look at me.”
He took an audible breath but didn’t respond. We stood back from the crowd, watching them in silence.
“Are you really going to stop seeing Dani?”
He tilted his eyes upward to the sky and groaned. “I shouldn’t have said anything. But yes.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I do want you to be happy, I just . . .” I bit my lip to keep the words from coming out. “You know.”
“No, I don’t know,” he clipped. “I didn’t do it for you anyway.”
“I know.”
“This is too much, Olivia, you know that?”
“What is?” I asked, taken aback.
He shoved a hand through his hair. “Nothing. Just never mind.” With one last look, he turned and walked away.
I fought with myself, angry that I was doing this to him, to all of us. I wanted to go after him and make things better, but his departure had an air of finality. Instead, I took the last few steps to where everyone else had congregated. Steve smiled shyly at me and commented on how inspiring the skyline could be. I looked across the roof at David’s shadowy figure. He faced Lake Michigan while taking a long pull from his beer bottle.
“Is that your boyfriend?”
I looked back at Steve. “No, just an overprotective friend.”
“Oh,” he exhaled, looking relieved. “I’m glad. I know this is forward, but I was hoping you might like to go out sometime.”
“I’m married, Steve.”
“Oh, geez. Sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“It’s all right. My husband isn’t here tonight,” I said with a friendly smile. “Anyway, where did you say you work?”
He stepped backward. “Actually, I think I might go get a refill.”
“There might be drinks up here,” I said, showing him my beer.
“Er, I . . .” His sentence trailed off as he mumbled something and then fled.
“Oh, okay. Goodnight!” I called after him. I laughed at the unfailing powers of a wedding ring. Well, almost, I thought, and my laugh vanished.
I peered down at my hand, wondering pointlessly how things might be different if the ring weren’t there. I slipped it off and studied my hand without it, expecting to feel different somehow.
“Where’d Steve go?” Gretchen demanded, and I furtively slipped the ring back into place.
“He left.” I frowned. “Who cares though? The question is, where’s Greg?”
“That is a good question, smarty-pants. I should go find him,” she slurred, pulling out her cell phone. “Yeah, he texted me like five times.” She held the phone up inches from my face. “See?” I nodded, and she poked the girl next to her. “I’ve seen enough, let’s go get another drink.”
“And look for Greg,” I reminded her.
“Yep. Let’s go.”
The girl announced that they were leaving. Gretchen gestured for me to follow, and I glanced back at David. The group retreated as a unit with Gretchen leading the way.
“Come on, Liv,” she called over her shoulder. “It’s time to go.”
“Time to go,” I repeated quietly to myself. Go, Olivia . . . . Go.