Come Alive (10 page)

CHAPTER
10

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.”