Come Together (The Cityscape 3)

“I get that,” he echoed, his anger visibly mounting, “but things are different now. You can’t know where his head’s at.” He stood up quickly and stalked over to a closed door I hadn’t noticed before. After a moment he returned with a folded men’s undershirt. “Put this on. It’s not a fair fight with your tits in my face.”

“Well, in that case – ”

“Olivia,” he commanded, his eyes narrowing.

I gulped, accepted the shirt and pulled it over my head. “How come you always call me by my full name?”

“What else would I call you?”

“Uh, Liv,” I said.

“Olivia is beautiful, and it suits you perfectly.”

“Oh.”

His eyes scanned my face. “You’re cute when you blush, you know that?” he murmured, but he still looked annoyed. “To me, you are always Olivia.” He took another mouthful of burrito and chewed quickly. “When I met you in Andrew’s kitchen and I asked you your name, you said, in your sexy, husky voice, ‘Olivia.’ And then this bumbling asshole comes in the kitchen calling you ‘Livs.’ I could’ve knocked him out.”

My lips parted as I stared at him. It never occurred to me that he’d given the topic any thought.

“Anyway, that’s why,” he finished.

I sighed like a wilting flower,

powerless to the love that coursed through me. I was quickly becoming the kind of girl I’d always despised: one who couldn’t stop staring at her boyfriend with starry eyes – even when we were in the middle of a fight.

“As I was saying, this is serious shit. People have been murdered over situations like this.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Infidelity.”

“Oh. But having you there would make it worse. If anything would set him off, it’d be that.”

“Wouldn’t matter. I’d be there.”

I dropped my forehead into my open hand. Bringing David was not an option. It wasn’t right. But I hated that he thought I wasn’t on his side. Of all the things he’d said the night before, that struck me the hardest. I exhaled finally and looked back at him. “What if you drive Gretchen and me but stay downstairs? That way you’ll be there if anything goes wrong.”

“Fuck,” he said to himself. “Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn? Don’t you trust me?”

“Don’t you trust me?” I cried. “He’s not the monster you think he is. Sweetie, I wouldn’t go there if I thought it was an issue. Nor would I take Gretchen there if I thought he was capable of hurting her.”

He grumbled something to himself through another bite, and I smiled triumphantly. “Tell Gretchen not to worry about the car,” he said. “I’ll get something, and we can pick her up on the way.”

“K,” I said, balling up my trash. “Can you walk me out? I need my coat. And as much as I would love to wear this all day . . .” I peeled off his cologne-scented undershirt and handed it to him.

He walked to his desk and picked up the phone. “Olivia’s coat,” was all he said.

As we waited by the door, he leaned in to give me a sweet kiss. “See?” he said. “No fighting.”

“No fighting,” I repeated with a smile.

He cracked the door a sliver to accept my coat and held it open so I could slip into it. I watched him concentrate on each button as he dressed me. When he was finished, he pulled gently on the lapels and kissed me again.

“Thank you for understanding,” I told him. “I owe you.”

I turned away and pulled the door open, but he slammed it shut with one hand. “Owe me?” he purred into my ear, molding his hand to my backside.

My insides turned instantly to jelly with his hot breath on my neck. “Yes,” I breathed.

“If I didn’t have so much to do, I’d take you up against this door right now,” he said. “I haven’t nearly made up for the time we lost last week, so you’d better be ready to spread those long legs for me tonight.” He opened the door and tapped me on the ass, pushing me out dazedly into the foyer. I blinked for a moment until I noticed the receptionist studiously avoiding my gaze. I gave her a quick wave and rushed to the elevator.

The fact that David had an account at the boutique where he was sending me was worrisome, so I was glad to see they carried men’s clothing in addition to women’s. For some reason, that led to me wondering whether or not he’d had sex on his desk before, and the thought made my lip curl.

Two salesgirls were in the middle of a conversation when I asked for a fitting room. One turned to me, a pretty blonde, young but with an unfortunate frown. She pointed across the store. “Dressing room’s over there.” She returned to her co-worker to pick up their conversation.

“I need to wear it out of the store,” I told her.

“Sure, but we only take American Express.”

“That’s fine, my boyfriend called ahead.”

She turned back to me slowly. “Oh. You’re David’s girlfriend?”

“Yes. Are you a friend of his?” I asked, finding her tone a little too familiar.

“Er, no. He usually works with me when he shops though.”

“How about that dressing room?” I asked.

“Right.” She shot a look at the other girl as she rounded the counter and led me to the back of the store. “Have you been dating long?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Not very.”

She gave me a quick, tight smile, showed me into the room and shut the door behind me. I stood there a moment with the top in my hand, seething. Obviously ‘working’ with David involved more than just shopping. She was young, but that wouldn’t surprise me. It occurred to me that I might be destined to a lifetime of uncomfortable encounters with David’s women. Instead of dwelling on it, I decided to ask.