Come Alive (7 page)

“Say
something, babe,” he whispered in my ear, and my jaw tensed.

I
scooted the chair back suddenly and dropped my napkin on the table. “Excuse
me.”

I
passed through the kitchen and over to the backyard-facing window. My eyes
scanned the lawn as workers packed up equipment. I thought of
Davena
. She would have loved the wedding because she loved
all things extravagant and expensive.

“I’m
sorry,” Lucy said from behind me. I continued staring out the window, watching
as the remnants of the night disappeared into the back of a van.

“It’s
fine,” I replied.

“I
only wanted to honor her memory.”

“I
said it’s fine,” I repeated gently.

“What’s
wrong,
Liv
?” she asked. “You never talk about her.”

“There’s
nothing to talk about. I miss her, but that’s all.”

“What
do you miss about her?”

I
turned from the window and looked Lucy in the eyes. “She was a good person. She
never judged anyone, because she just wanted everyone to live
their
lives.
Davena
was always on
my side.”

“We’re
on your side. Everyone wants you to be happy.”

I
smiled weakly. “You’re a good friend. Let’s go back before I ruin the weekend.”

“You’re
not ruining anything. I just want things to get better. I thought they were
getting better.”

Even
if David hadn’t reopened the wounds, they were still painfully fresh. Something
felt off, wrong, with the house in Oak Park and with life in general. But to
have David in front of me, to smell him, to look into his eyes – it made
my heart race, but in the right way.

“They
are,” I assured her finally. “Things are getting better.” It wasn’t at all
convincing, but I was so tired of pretending.
All the time.
It was exhausting. What had David said to me? ‘
It’s nothing compared to keeping it inside. I can’t hide it like you.’

I
walked back to the patio without another word, knowing Lucy would follow.
Everyone had returned to merry conversation, and nobody noticed our return.
Except David, whose eyes were fixed on
me.
I allowed
myself a quick glance in his direction. His expression was unreadable, which agitated
me, but there was no pity in it. He looked almost angry when his gaze shifted
over to Bill.

At
a pause in the conversation, Bill kissed my hair. “All right?” he asked. He
looked tired, I noticed. I only nodded with a quick smile.

As
we spilled out of the
Greenes
’ home, we took turns
wishing Lucy and Andrew a good trip. I avoided David and took off for the car
but immediately wished I hadn’t. I watched from afar as Bill approached him.
While I debated whether or not to interfere, David handed him something, and
they shook hands. I bit my nail as Bill took eons to cross the pebbled
driveway, rocks crunching loudly under his feet. The question burned at the tip
of my tongue. Once we were driving away, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“What
did he give you?” I blurted.

“Who?”

I
grasped my earlobe between my fingers and hesitated. “David.”

“Oh,
his card. We’re going to try and set something up this week. Jeanine’s been on
my ass about what she should tell the owners.”

“Can’t
we just hire an appraiser or something?”

“We’ll
do that too, but I need his expert advice on what it’ll cost to renovate.”

“Why?”

“Because,
babe, I don’t want to make an offer until I know what it’ll set us back.”

“No,
why him?”

“Sounds
like he knows what he’s talking about, according to Andrew. Plus, if I don’t
have to pay someone, all the better.”

“Aha,”
I muttered under my breath. I should have guessed, since saving money was one
of Bill’s favorite hobbies.

“Something
bothering you, sweet cheeks?” he asked sardonically.

I
huffed in my seat and looked away. I’d brought this on myself, so why was I
taking it out on Bill? The threat of Bill and David forming a friendship was
too real.
Fuck. Seriously, fuck. Now that
he’s dating
Dani
, will he be around all the time?

Bill
sighed, and I cast a sidelong glance at him. How could I have danced with David
in front of everyone? Why didn’t I leave when I’d found him in the kitchen? I
was playing with fire, but when in his company, I didn’t care. I just wanted
more of him. I wondered what Bill had seen in the kitchen. Had he heard David’s
question about moving on? I flipped on the air conditioning in the suddenly stifling
car.

Whether
Bill knew it or not, I was hurting him. Directly, indirectly, it was my fault
he couldn’t perform the night before. I had changed something between us
without him even knowing.

In
the beginning, I had been drawn to Bill’s confidence. He was independent and
successful. Things with him had been simple, gradual. But the traits that had
attracted me to him also had their downsides. He was attentive when it was
convenient for him. He was even keeled, like our relationship. He was mild
– like our relationship. He didn’t dig, or probe, or question why things
were the way they were because for him, it was enough.

David
was not only attentive,
but
intuitive. Was he that way
with all of his women? Though nothing had happened, I felt as though I’d
misbehaved over the weekend. Everything about David felt intimate – the
way he looked at me, his words,
his
touch. It wasn’t
realistic to expect that my feelings would have changed in only three months. But
what unsettled me was that they were as strong as ever.

Seeing
David was a full-body experience. I felt heavy and light at the same time.
He gives me butterflies, but they aren’t
butterflies. They’re bigger and darker and scarier, like crows. They’re
dangerous. And did Bill ever give me butterflies?

My
relationship with Bill had started slow. When we would meet downstairs in the
middle of the workday, I would feel happy, anticipatory. I liked his company as
well as our conversations.
Butterflies .
.
. .
Were they there? Did I have them? Does it matter
if I did? Since when do butterflies determine anything?

I
wondered if David gave
Dani
butterflies or worse . .
. did
she
excite
him
? Had he been hoping to see her in the kitchen rather than me?
My mind clouded. Did he, would he, touch her like he had touched me? I pictured
how he would undress her, stroke her skin, run his hands through her long hair.
My teeth gritted as I saw her in his apartment, sitting on the couch where I
had.
In his bedroom as I had been.
Wrapped up in his
sheets. Tangled in his –
Oh, God.
It’s too much.
I shuddered and shrank in my seat.

Maybe
one day they would have their own wedding and their own honeymoon in Paris.
Someone else would give a toast about finding ‘the one,’ and it wouldn’t
include me. David was my mistake and if they ended up together, I would be his.
I would be the blemish.
The wife’s friend.
The
cheater.

CHAPTER
8

TAP, TAP,
TAP.
I stared
down at the red pen jittering between my fingers and then at the clock: 11:20 a.m.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
I stilled
and looked blankly at the list of article topics in front of me. I was across
the office to grab my jacket in one motion.

“Early lunch?” Jenny asked as I whizzed by her
desk.

“Yep.”

I focused on the clicking of my heels against
the pavement as I walked. Summer was ending, but it was warm and the sky was a clear
blue. With each step toward my destination, I was a little lighter. Since the
car ride home from Winnetka the day before, my mind had been in overdrive, and
I needed . . . something. I didn’t know what exactly, or even what I wanted,
but I thought I knew where to find it.

A fifteen-minute walk; a lifetime hanging in the
balance.
A choice. I stopped in front of the sleek, modern
doors of Pierson/Greer. Just inside was the one who haunted my thoughts, the
one I couldn’t forget. I reached out for the gilded handle and paused. After a
moment, my hand fell to my side again. I backed away from the entrance and
pinched the bridge of my nose.
Don’t do
this, Olivia. Let it lie. Let it be. Don’t do this . .
.
.
I wiped beads of sweat from my
forehead and paced along the sidewalk. What did I want from David? What answers
could he provide? I needed to know why this was happening. Why I was beginning
to feel more and more like I was being torn in half.

I
stopped my tread finally and sighed up at the tall building. With sagging
shoulders, I turned around and idled back the way I’d come.

At
the first convenience store, I ducked inside. I was craving comfort food in a
way I hadn’t been lately. I headed straight for the freezer, promising myself
that things would get easier. I slid open the door and selected an ice cream
sandwich, knowing I just had to stay strong. I walked to the cashier,
determined not to break down in the middle of a convenience store. With one
hand cradling my purchase, I used the other to fish out a couple dollar bills
from my wallet.

“Hey,
go easy on that ice cream, honeybee.” My heart leaped, and I turned to see
David filling the doorway. He tilted his head and smiled at me. “What are you
doing here?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be over on Adams, making some Bachelors
miserable?”

I
just stared, blinking as sunlight illuminated him from behind.

His
eyebrows folded. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No,”
I replied as his cologne slowly wafted into my orbit. “I mean yes, I’m fine.
You startled me.”

“Well,
I do work right down the street.”

“I
know . .
. .”

“Of
course you do. Is that your lunch?”

I
followed his curious gaze to my hands. “Um. No, I – I . .
. ,
” I stammered. I fumbled to set it on the counter. I
shouldn’t be there. To run into him was one thing, but I had sought him out. Grasping
the strap of my purse, I hurried to the doorway, where he swiveled to let me
through.

“I
never got to tell you how much I enjoyed the issue.”

My
head shot up, but I continued my stride. “What?”

“The
Most Eligible
issue,” David said. “The
feature had a fresh, creative touch. You deserve that promotion.”

“Oh.”
I slowed fractionally to sync with his relaxed gait. “Thanks.”

He
handed me the ice cream sandwich. “
Here.
”

“Did
you steal this?” I asked with widened eyes.

He
laughed loudly. “No, of course not. I bought it for you.”

After
a slight hesitation, I accepted it and started to peel away the wrapper.

“What
did you think of my part?”

“Hmm?”
I asked as I took a bite.

“The
article. What did you think?”

I
swallowed and feigned interest in the sidewalk. “Your pictures caused quite the
commotion.”

“What
did
you
think though?”

“I
thought . .
. ,
” I paused, exhaling loudly. “I thought
that you looked very handsome. Lisa did a nice job.”

“And
the interview?”

I
squinted ahead and took another bite of the softening ice cream. A young guy
dropped his skateboard on the ground and zoomed by us. “I didn’t read it.”

We
stopped at a corner and waited for the light to change. I looked up at him as
vanilla dripped down my fingers. I tried to convey with my eyes what I couldn’t
with my words.
That I hadn’t read it because it was too
painful.
That since the day I’d left, I could never forget the hurt in his
eyes. Even in my heels, my head was almost vertical when I said, “I’m sorry.”

He
sighed and nodded his head toward the green light. “This might be one of our
last warm days,” he commented once we were walking again.

I
wanted to laugh. The things left unsaid were almost palpable between us. But it
was better that way; so instead, we would talk about the weather. “That’s fine
by me,” I said. “I love Chicago in autumn.”

“Me
too,” he said with a smile. “What’s your favorite thing about it?”

“Probably
the way there’s something electric in the air just as it starts to cool down.
Also, that I get to wear boots again.”

He
laughed and rolled his eyes toward the sky. “Typical.”

“What
about you?” I asked.

“I
take my sister’s kid to pick apples a couple hours away. That’s my favorite
thing. That and the weekend mornings when you wake up and your bed is so warm
and you have nowhere to be . .
. .”

My
face fell as the fantasy of waking up in his arms, pressed against his hot,
hard body flashed through my mind.
So much for a safe topic.

When
I glanced up, he wore a roguish smile. “And who doesn’t love the foliage?” he
asked.

“Of
course,” I agreed immediately. “The foliage is just beautiful in the fall.”

His
shoulders shook with a silent laugh, and I looked away quickly.

“When
my sister and I were kids,” he continued, “one of our chores was to rake leaves.
She hated it, but I didn’t mind. It gave me a sense of order. It agitated me
when they were strewn all over the lawn.”

I
pictured David as a young man, his posture straight and his movements concentrated
as he worked.

“I
guess you didn’t really have that problem in Dallas.”

I
shook my head. “Not at my house, no.”

“Did
you like growing up there?”

“It
was all right.” I shrugged and took a large bite before sucking chocolate cookie
off my fingers.

“How’s
that ice cream, Olivia?”

I
tried not to squirm at the way he said my name. “Delicious.”

“I
like watching you eat it.”

I
arched an eyebrow at him.

“I
mean because you look like you’re enjoying it.”

I
nodded and licked my lips.

“I
would buy you an ice cream every day just to watch you eat it.”

I
captured a deep breath. His low and manly voice made enjoying my ice cream sandwich
sound sinful. And then I imagined dripping vanilla ice cream onto his abs and
cleaning it off with a long, drawn out lick.

“Besides,
you could use the nourishment.”

I
jolted back to reality. “What do you mean by that?”

“You’re
too skinny.”

“Oh,
David,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Would you drop it?”

His
voice deepened into a chastisement. “I meant what I said about your health. I
don’t know why you’re not eating, but it stops now.”

“Of
course I eat,” I replied cheerily. “If I didn’t, I’d be dead.”

His
eyebrows met in the middle as he studied me, seemingly not amused. “What does
he say about this? And your friends?”

“They
know that I’m an adult with the ability to gauge my level of hunger.” I crossed
one arm over my stomach, and our steps slowed to a stop as we approached my
office.

He
turned so we were facing. “I overheard Gretchen say at breakfast yesterday that
you’re depressed.”

I
blinked up and pressed my lips together. I imagined punching Gretchen in the
arm. “I suppose maybe they think so.”

“Why?”

“Why
do they think that or why am I depressed?”

“Are
you depressed?”

I
wrapped my arm tighter and refrained from pinching myself. “They think I am
because of . . .
Davena
. She’s the woman who – ”

“I
know who she is. You didn’t seem very pleased with Lucy’s toast.”

“It
was silly of me. Melodramatic.” I balled up the wrapper and ran the back of my
hand over my mouth.

He
leaned closer. “It’s been hard, hasn’t it?”

I
took a step back and wondered why my heart was suddenly pounding.

“These
past few months,” he continued, “I’ve been worried about you.”

“I
have to get back to work.”

“Olivia
– ”

“Thanks
for the ice cream.” I spun around before he could say anything else and booked
it up to the fourteenth floor.

~

With
a soft sigh, I flipped some hair over my shoulder. The computer screen blazed
bright, but the entire floor was dark. I could almost feel myself burning out
from another long day.

With a deadline in the morning, I couldn’t leave
until I’d hammered out the last few paragraphs in front of me. But it had been
impossible to concentrate all day. Butterflies were perched in my chest,
threatening to explode into a million fluttering wings if I let my mind wander.
It was the reason I was the only person left in the office: I couldn’t stop
daydreaming.

How
was it that Bill left the apartment in a suit every day, yet I barely noticed?
David, in all his charcoal pinstripe glory, was far more distinguished than the
rest of us plebeians who walked the planet. He was perfection in a suit. And
somehow, I had his attention. His heavy brows joined when he watched words fall
from my mouth, as though he might have to reach out and catch one.

Our short walk was a like a bookmark in the dark
chapter I’d been living
;
a moment to come up for air
when I’d been stuck just beneath the surface. It was like a dream that had
never happened, except that it had.

I bit the inside of my cheek and leaned over to
the bottom drawer of my desk. I rifled through it until I saw the issue of
Chicago M.
With a short breath, I opened
it and flipped through the pages until I found what I was looking for.