Come Undone (The Cityscape 1)

He inclined toward me, and I stiffened instinctively. “Do you really find him attractive?” he asked near my ear while he picked up his phone from the desk. His hair was styled into that lustrous wave again, and when he stood back, I was left with a waft of men’s hair product.

I shook my head slowly without breaking eye contact. “I suppose some women might think so,” I echoed his words. “But no, he’s not my type.” David raised his eyebrows and looked pleased.

I leaned over for my apple and settled back against the desk. “Speaking of which, how’s Maria?” I asked casually.

“Hmm, not sure. We can call and ask if you’d like.” He waved his phone at me and I scowled. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. You just have to ask,” he said. I looked into my apple, searching for an answer it couldn’t give me. I shook it slightly, hoping for an eight ball miracle.

He disappeared into the other room, this time leaving the door ajar. I hesitated, wondering if I really wanted to know. It was fair to say that the image of her perfectly browned skin and slitted green eyes had haunted me since the night we’d met. Why am I so pale? I lamented.

“So?” he called from the other side of the door.

“Okay.” I took a bite of the apple and chewed slowly. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No,” he stated.

“Do you have sex?”

I listened to him chuckle and then fall silent. “Yes,” he said after a moment. I felt the divergence of my heart drop and my insides tighten simultaneously. Although I tried to look away, I couldn’t help noticing flashes of his tanned skin through the sliver of doorway. “We have an unspoken arrangement. We go out, she accompanies me to some events.” He paused. “We sleep together sometimes. But we’re not exclusive.”

“Not exclusive?” I asked incredulously. He reentered the room, crossing his arms and positioning himself in front of me.

“No,” he confirmed, looking me in the eye. “We see other people.”

“I thought you didn’t gallivant.”

“It’s hardly gallivanting,” he said, lifting his chin fractionally. “It’s cut-and-dry. I normally don’t have time to seek women out, but sometimes things develop.”

“Are you seeing other women?”

“Not technically at the moment,” he said. “But I can, and I do.”

I didn’t know why his honesty startled me. I’d known all along that he was a player – casual encounters and all. I had been right about one thing though – I wasn’t the only person who had experienced this connection with him. I suddenly felt out of my league, which was becoming an all too familiar feeling. My indignation from our first introduction resurfaced, and I found satisfaction in the fact that he couldn’t notch me on his figurative post like the others.

“Well,” I said uncomfortably, at a loss for words.

“Anything else?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. His words were measured, and I knew he’d heard my request for restraint earlier in the week. I got the feeling there was something he wanted me to ask, but he was playing indifferent. I decided I’d heard enough, though.

“No.” I forced a smile, a front for the confusion I was feeling.

“What is it?” he asked with a short nod.

“Nothing.” I shrugged. “I should check on Lucy,” I said after a moment.

“Olivia,” he said, and stopped. His face changed then, and I noticed his shoulders loosen slightly. “I’ve been reading your articles on-line. I enjoy your writing.”

What? I gave him a funny look as my insides flipped over, taken aback by the unsolicited compliment.

“No,” I shook my head, turning red. “My mother is a writer. I’m an editor. She used to make me sit and edit her stuff for hours, in fact.”

“Hmm,” he whirred. “You are a great writer, though.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, embarrassed that it came out sounding like a question. We sat that way for a moment as silence settled over the room. Before he could say anything else, I threw the apple rind I’d been holding into the trash across the room, sinking a perfect shot. “Three-pointer,” I said, throwing my hands up.

“Basketball fan, huh?” he grinned at me.

“Bill is,” I replied without thinking. “How about you?”

“I’m a Bears fan myself.”

“Ah. Football. I could see that.”

“Oh?”

“Sure, I can picture you as a quarterback, working the field. Leaving a trail of cheerleaders in your wake,” I said, biting my lip as I smiled. “Did you play in high school?”

“Yes, though I would’ve preferred to focus on the swim team.”

“So? Quarterback? Linebacker?” I paused, running my hand along the edge of Lucy’s desk. “Tight end?”

“QB.”

I nodded. “Thought so. I had a crush on our high school quarterback.” I cocked my head. “He looked a little like you, but not as tall,” I said, letting my eyes wander down his body.

His hand twitched, and he quickly crossed his arms tighter. “What are you doing?”

I lightly lifted my right shoulder, staring him down. “What do you mean?”

“You’re flirting with me, even though you asked me to back off. Just like on the roof the other day.” He stopped and I blinked at him a few times, unsure of what he’d say next. “Olivia, I’ll put on a show in front of your friends, at your work, whenever we’re in public. But I’m growing tired of pretending when we’re alone. Don’t tempt me,” he warned.

I knew by his indelicate tone that he meant to reprove me, but my insides liquefied in response. Pretending. What is he pretending? I swallowed as a tingling grew between my legs. For a quick second, I wished I were single so I could find out what he didn’t want to pretend anymore.

Lucy burst through the door again sporting a bright pink Band-Aid. “Sorry! I had to go all over, but I finally found a mom with one in her purse. I don’t even think it’s bleeding anymore.” Despite the carnal reaction my body was experiencing, I couldn’t help but smile at her; she could be so clueless at times. “So David, I think we’re all set. You can take your card back. Did you want to join us for lunch?”

He hesitated for maybe the first time since I’d met him. “I would love to,”

he said and then looked at me pointedly. “But I really shouldn’t. Thanks for your help today. Good luck with the, uh, dresses,” he said, grabbing the rest of his things from the desk and backing away.

“Thanks, David! I’ll have your items delivered as soon as they’re altered.” She turned to gather the suits, but I watched him go. “Isn’t he sweet? Let’s go eat,” she said. “I’m starved.”

~

“Thanks for being flexible. I don’t think we have time for anything other than fast food.”

“No prob,” I said, sliding into the booth. “Oh, I supersized the fries.”

“You’re so bad!”

“We’re indulging! Before a dress fitting!” I exclaimed, unwrapping my burger. “Gretchen would not approve.”

“Oh, look.” She reached into her handbag. “This can be dessert so I don’t feel guilty,” she said, palming an apple.

“Really? I’m having a milkshake.”

“Olivia!” she scolded. “Should I have asked for a size four instead of a two?”

I laughed. “Shut up. So I haven’t even seen Gretchen since the restaurant opening.” I dipped a fry in ketchup.

“I was a little wasted,” she said, skewing her mouth.

“I think we all were. What’s the latest on the chef?”

“She’s still stringing him along, in true Gretch fashion. Sometimes it really bugs me, the way she treats those guys,” she confessed. It bothered me too, although I couldn’t be sure why. I didn’t mind that she played the field, but she seemed to revel in making them squirm.

“Well, it takes two,” I said, trying to be fair. “Sometimes I think they like it.”

“That’s true. But I just don’t see why. Was she always this way?”

“No,” I said, swallowing my food. “Growing up she was actually a bit shy and always hid behind these big glasses. A little pudgy too, but don’t tell her I said that. She’s so smart though, you know. When she met Greg, her appearance changed – she started doing her hair and lost some weight. That started a few weeks before the visit where you guys met. And when he left, well, you sort of know since you were there. That’s when something inside changed.”