Come Undone (The Cityscape 1)

“Greg was great,” Lucy said wistfully. “But I hate him.”

“Me too.” I laughed before pausing to think. “He was one of the closest friends I’ve ever had,” I said seriously. I realized then how much I missed him. After five years, I still considered him a close friend. I hadn’t been allowed to grieve his abrupt departure, since I had wanted to be strong for Gretchen.

“There was always something about him though,” Lucy continued, as if she hadn’t heard me. “Sometimes I felt like he was living behind a glass wall, like I could see him and he could see me, but I couldn’t quite touch him. Sometimes I wonder how I ever fit in with you two.”

“Lucy,” I laughed, wiping my hands on a napkin. “What do you mean? I never heard you say that about him.”

“Well we weren’t really supposed to talk about him after. I just think you guys were similar, which is why you got along so well. And Gretchen and I aren’t necessarily alike, but I’m surprised by how close we’ve become.” I nodded in agreement. Even though I’d introduced them, I sometimes envied their relationship. Their connection had developed quickly, and I’d often thought that they’d have found each other regardless. “And Andrew, well,” she smiled. “He’d get along with just about anyone, so I’m not surprised that he fits so well into the group. I’m just thankful I snagged him before anyone else did.”

“He’s a good one,” I nodded. “But you guys were meant for each other.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Do you feel that way about Bill?” she asked suddenly.

I stopped chewing before swallowing with a gulp. “Of course I do, Luce. But, you tell me. Where does poor Bill fit into all this?” I teased.

“Bill? Well, he’s . . .” Her face became still as she thought. “He and Andrew are becoming close, which I’m so happy about. It’s a dream come true that we found guys who get along so well. And he loves you so much.”

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that. She was being sincere, but it felt like a cop out answer compared to what she’d just said about everyone else.

“Are you guys excited for our fishing expedition?” I asked, pretending to cast a line.

“Oh my gosh, you’re a nerd. Andrew is over the moon.” Just then, her phone chimed. “And that would be him,” she said, pulling it out. “‘Gonna catch you a big one tomorrow,’” she read aloud. We burst into laughter. “Did I mention that he’s excited?”

“That’s sweet,” I said with a big smile. “Should we invite Gretch? Do you think she’d come this year?”

“We can try.” She balled up her trash and tossed it on the tray.

~

I stood with my arms planed, trying not to laugh as the seamstress pulled at the armhole. “It tickles,” I whined to Gretchen as she watched.

“I told you.”

“So I guess I can’t wear a bra with this,” I observed, looking over my shoulder at the back, or lack thereof.

“Don’t move,” the seamstress ordered.

“Nope,” Lucy said. “But don’t worry, neither of you need the support. I wouldn’t have chosen this style otherwise.” In the mirror, I admired the rich Bordeaux color against my fair skin. The dress was floor-length silk jersey and fitted, but not tight. The neckline, held by razor-thin straps, dipped slightly lower than I was comfortable with, forming a ‘V’ between my breasts. “You can wear those chicken cutlet things if you want,” she added.

“That feels a little snug,” I said, grimacing. The woman blinked up at me briefly and continued working, ignoring my complaint.

“I’m on a strict diet until the wedding,” Gretchen said. “I do not want to look like a porker in the photos.”

“Oh, you’re going to look great,” Lucy reassured her. “You guys look even better in red than I thought. I’m a genius.”

“Well, I should hope so, you do this for a living,” Gretchen pointed out. “What about your dress?”

“No luck yet. Still looking. I’ve always known the colors I wanted to use, so your dresses were easy.”

“We need to have a dress-hunting party,” I offered. “Bring some magazines this weekend.”

“What’s this weekend?”

“Fishing,” we said in unison.

“Do you want to come?” I asked. “Lucy and I are going to stock up on Pinot Grigio and review bridal magazines by the fire while our men forage.”

“No thanks. I have plans. Have fun though,” she said, making a face.

“Well, you’re just jealous that we’ll be in flannel pajamas while you’re running around in four-inch heels. Never mind,” I said, giving up. “You win.”

“Finished,” the seamstress said. “Go change.”

I slipped out of the dress and checked the tag before handing it to her from the fitting room. I decided that Bill wouldn’t need to know about the expense until he figured it out on his own. Anyway, there was no getting around it.

Lucy and I said good-bye to Gretchen and walked the quarter mile back to work. Having her office across the street from mine made daily life a little better.

“Oh, I have the car today. Do you want a ride home?” I asked.

“How come?”

“Bill had to leave the city for a case this morning, so he carpooled with a colleague. How ‘bout it?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“K, text me when you’re done for the day.”

~

“So, my crown just fell out,” Lucy said as soon as I entered her office. I’d decided to leave work a few minutes early and was hoping to convince her to do the same. She indicated to her mouth. “I think it was the apple. That’s what I get for trying to be healthy.”

“Ouch,” I scrunched up my nose and looked away. I’d prided myself on having as little dental work done on my mouth as possible, due to routine flossing and brushing. My father had scared me into it as a kid, forcing the doctor to show me detailed photos of dental procedures.

“I called the dentist, and he can see me right now, it shouldn’t take more than an hour to fix. I’m sorry, go home and I’ll just see you tonight.” The phone rang shrilly, causing us both to jump. “I hate that thing,” she muttered.

“I’ll give you a ride to the dentist.”

She looked at the phone, which continued to ring. “What time is it? Geez, nobody wants to stay a minute after five.”

“Oh, can I be your receptionist?” I asked, but I was already leaning over to answer the phone. I blanked suddenly, forgetting the name of the company. “Personal styling department,” I said, grimacing as Lucy laughed.

“Olivia?”

I froze. “Yes?”

“It’s David. Dylan.”

Surprised, I lowered myself onto the edge of the desk. “Oh, hello, David. How did you know it was me?”

“With a voice like that?” He scoffed. I was immediately transplanted back to middle school, where my throatiness had been frequently mocked.

“What can I do for you?” I asked, clearing my throat. How many times had I asked him that? I wondered idly what he could do for me.

“Actually, I was looking for Lucy.”

“Right, of course.”

I made to pass the phone but he continued. “I have a bit of a situation on my hands.”

“Go on,” I said, shrugging at Lucy.

Who is it? she mouthed at me.

David Dylan, I mouthed back. She paused a second before continuing to pack up her purse.

“Something came up this evening. I’ve been invited to a black tie gala at the Museum of Contemporary Art and it’s, well, soon. My only tuxedo is in my New York apartment. I need to know if Lucy can find me one fast, and I’ll pick it up on my way.”

“Oh,” I said. “Hang on.” I hit the hold button and repeated what he’d just told me.

“Shit,” she said, catching me off guard. Hearing Lucy curse was like seeing a fish on land, it was just fundamentally wrong

. “My boss would kill me,” she said to herself.