Come Together (The Cityscape 3)

“Oh. Oops,” I breathed, managing a small laugh.

He smiled widely and shook his head before swiping my panties from the floor. “Here.”

I glanced down at his tented pants and then back up.

“I can wait,” he said. “I don’t want our first time as a couple to be in a dressing room.”

I nodded even though I wouldn’t have minded at all. I took my undergarments from his outstretched hand. As soon as I’d clasped my bra, he was crouched at my feet holding open a dress. I placed my hands on his shoulders and stepped into it. He pulled it up and zipped me from behind. It was a simple black dress, conservative enough for work but still trim over my slight curves.

“You have one like this, don’t you? With the thingie?” he asked, motioning to the shoulder of the dress.

I smiled, amused that he was at all familiar with my wardrobe. “The rosette. Yes, I do.”

“It suits you.” He perched his chin on my shoulder and watched me in the mirror. “If you look like this every morning on the way out the door, then I’m fucked. We’ll never make it to work.”

I turned in his arms and smiled up at him, running my hands over his t-shirt and under his hoodie. It was our first moment truly alone and able to appreciate each other since everything had happened. Things were beginning to feel right. He dipped his head, and we kissed, leisurely but purposefully. It was nice to kiss him without feeling guilty or like I’d been simmering with need for months. The kiss was perfectly comfortable.

“We’re going shoe shopping next,” he said. “If I have to bend over every time I kiss you, I’ll throw my back out before I hit forty.”

I laughed and rose on the balls of my feet for a last peck. “Get out of here so I can change.”

David had given the salesgirl his credit card long before we were at the register, so I never even saw the transaction. Suddenly the woman was handing me three large bags, which David chivalrously intercepted, and we were leaving the store.

“Listen, I have some work to do,” he said when we were on the sidewalk. “Give me your wallet.”

I cocked my head but dug it out of my purse and handed it to him. He stuck it in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He slid out a credit card and held it out. “I’m going back to the apartment. Go find a dress for tonight, anything you want, anywhere you want.” I started to interject, but he stopped me. “Surprise me. Find something you think I’d like.”

I took the card and opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t say thank you,” he muttered. “It makes me feel like I’m doing you a favor. I’m not. Like I said, we’ll talk money, logistics, all that shit later. Just take this for now. Oh, and this . . .” His hand burrowed in his hoodie pocket. “These are your cards and keys to the building. You remember which apartment it is, right?”

“Penthouse,” I said with a defeated shrug.

“I know it’s a lot,” he said softly, “but we’re in it now. Might as well get comfortable.”

“Where’d you get all this?” I asked, palming my foreseeable future.

“I’ve had it for a while. I told you,” he said, touching me under the chin, “I’ve been waiting for you.”

CHAPTER 5

THE LAST FORTY-EIGHT HOURS played through my head like a movie as I walked to David’s, evening gown in hand. Things had never felt as simultaneously terrifying and clear as they did now. I wondered how Bill was and decided to call Gretchen with my new number when I got back.

I was reminded that David lived in a hotel as I crossed the lobby, his apartment one of a few residences comprising the top floors of the building. Not to be outdone, he was at the very top: the penthouse. It was intimidating to say the least, but it also thrilled me. It meant views of my beloved Chicago from almost every angle.

I swiped the card in the elevator as I’d seen David do. When I reached his floor, I stepped into the foyer and looked around. Various emotions rushed through me as I remembered fleeing his apartment months ago. Desperate to escape, I had run out in just the sheet from his bed and changed here in the foyer as I waited for the elevator. I blushed when I noticed a camera in the corner, wondering if it belonged to David or the hotel. Neither possibility lessened my embarrassment.

I walked to the front door and halted there, unsure of how to proceed. I dug out the single key and flipped it over and over in my fingers, thinking, immobilized. My phone pinged.

Nov 10, 2012 4:12 PM

Coming in?

I smiled and unlocked the door. Apparently the cameras belonged to David. As I entered, I received another text.

Nov 10, 2012 4:13 PM

Last door on the right before my bedroom.

I took in the semi-familiar space and automatically walked the path to the bedroom I’d once run from. When I reached the open door just before it, I stopped and looked inside. He was in a swivel chair, nodding against the desk phone held at his ear. Behind him was a jaw-dropping view of Chicago’s skyline. He motioned at me to come in, so I draped the garment bag that held my new dress on an empty chair and walked toward his waving hands.

“Sketches are almost finished, but I still need to meet with Greer about preliminary estimates,” he said as I settled on his lap. He kissed me quickly on the cheek as he listened.

I judged by the two oversized computer screens, piles of paperwork and drafting table that I was sitting in his home office. In the corner was a display of flat screen security televisions, and I blushed again when I noticed the one that watched the foyer. I was thankful to see that anything beyond the entryway was not included. He winked when he noticed my gaze. I didn’t see anything to indicate a personal presence; no pictures, no framed awards or articles, nothing distinctly special about the office’s inhabitant.

“Let’s set that up then.” He paused, covering the mouthpiece. “When should we go see your father? Can you get Friday off so we can make a weekend of it?”

I bit my lip. My boss frowned upon taking time off, but I had plenty of vacation days because of it. I gave him a half-shrug. “I’ll try.”

He removed his hand and placed it on my lower back. “Monday,” he said into the phone. “I probably won’t be in on Friday. No, it won’t be resolved by then. Monday then.” After a moment he hung up and ran his hand up and down my back. “How was shopping? Is that your dress?”

“It was great. Thank you,” I said, pressing my lips to his cheek.