Come Alive (11 page)

“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.