Come Alive (The Cityscape 2)

CHAPTER 13

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 i

mpression 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.”