Come Undone (6 page)

In the nearest window, I caught the reflection of my very fitted
white dress that dipped just off my shoulders. Reluctantly, I decided to avoid
the dessert table for the night. I peered out at the starless sky before
turning slightly to marvel at the guests. It was easy to go unnoticed in this
crowd. Despite Lucy and Andrew’s high society social circle, I was mildly
dissatisfied with the company, overhearing tidbits here and there of the same
old fodder. A tap on my bare shoulder caused me to start.

“Just a little something for the party planner.” Jack held out a
red wine garnished with a dashing smile.

“Oh, well, this is exactly what I need,” I said, smiling. “How did
you know?”

“Bartender’s sixth sense,” he said, placing a cold hand on my
shoulder. I bit the inside of my cheek, and as politely as possible, shrugged
out from under him. Turning back for the bar, he said, “Come find me later.” I
agreed and brought the wine to my lips, instantly spilling some on the front of
my dress.

In the kitchen, I cursed my clumsiness as I threw open the
cupboards. Once I found a towel, I flipped on the faucet and wet it. When I
turned from the sink, a small white hand towel pressed against the impurity on
my breast, my gaze fell familiarly on those hooded eyes from the theater. The
flush instantly returned and I was back there, as if no time had passed,
frozen. I racked my brain; had we invited him? I didn’t know; couldn’t know. I
had no idea who he was.

He flattened his hands on the surface of the island and jutted his
hips out behind him. “Tell me your name.” His thick voice was my desire
manifested. Words stuck in my mouth, choking me. It never occurred to me to
question the intensity of his question, the urgency in his voice. “What’s your
fucking name?” It wasn’t malicious, but pleading.

“Olivia,” I replied levelly, not recognizing my own voice.

“Olivia,” he repeated, momentarily satisfied. He reached a long
arm over the island and placed his hand over my mine – the one that held,
now clutched, the towel. Goosebumps lighted over my body at the contact, and I
shuddered slightly. He took it from me, and I dropped my hand as he rounded the
island, his eyes never leaving mine. Before I realized what was happening, he
was there with the damp towel in his hand, pressed against my breast. “Olivia,”
he said softly. “I’m desperate to know you.”

My lashes fluttered underneath him. I’d remembered his eyes as
dark, but they were an indisputable light chestnut brown, intensified a
thousand times by his jet black, bushy eyebrows. Their golden-brown color
misaligned with his mysteriousness, almost painting him as divine-like. His
freshly shaven jawline was angular and ended with a cleft chin, the only soft
curve among otherwise chiseled features.

I tore my eyes from his gaze and looked down, swallowing so I
might say something. I didn’t quite know if I should protest his brazen
approach, or if I should listen to my body and move against him. Before I had a
chance to respond though, Bill’s laugh floated in from the other room. I half-leaped
back to the sink as he blew through the door with a leftover smile from his
boisterous guffaw. He did not even notice the man, but came straight to me at
the sink and linked his arm around my waist, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

“Livs,” he exclaimed. “Hugh insists the Bulls are headed toward
defeat so I had to set him straight.” His loud voice carried back into the
party.

“Your husband is this close to betting your down payment on the
playoffs,” Hugh called from the other room, “and I can’t say I haven’t warned
him.” I forced a small laugh for Bill while my insides turned over, and my
heart fluttered like a trapped butterfly.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I just came for the sweets.” He smiled,
just for me, and placed an oversized cupcake into a red napkin. Once he’d left,
I glanced back at the man who’d never stopped watching me. His eyes slowly
traveled the length of my left arm until they rested on my hand. I only had a
moment to try and comprehend his fallen expression before I heard footsteps
again. I moved around the island, distancing myself from his spell just as
Andrew waltzed into the kitchen.

“Liv, where’ve you been?” he asked, just as he noticed the mystery
man whose face, I thought, revealed too much. “Ah, David. Got it. Always one
with the ladies.” Andrew laughed casually, nodding toward the man.

David
,
I thought. A common name; nothing out of the ordinary. But now I repeated it to
myself behind sealed lips, as though it were the first time.

“Actually, we’ve not yet met,” David said coolly, and I turned to
glare at him. He was calm and unperturbed, as if everything were normal. Slowly,
he scrunched up the sleeves of his black V-neck pullover and rolled up the
cuffs of the white button down underneath.

I, on the other hand, had been startled into silence. I did my
best to mimic his relaxed stance, loosening my shoulders and releasing my death
grip on the counter. He continued, “I was just . . . getting her a towel. She
seems to have spilled something on herself.”

“I see, well Liv, this is David,” he introduced. “He’s the lead
architect on our new office building in the Loop. And I hope if I hang around
him enough, some of his charm will rub off.” He winked at me. “The ladies in my
office can’t get enough of the guy,” he added, pulsing his eyebrows at David. “You
usually have your hands full, though. No date tonight?”

David let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he wiped his brow
with the back of his hand. Andrew just shrugged. He was always so nonchalant;
his feathers rarely ruffled. He reminded me of Bill in that sense. Bill didn’t
anger easily, but when he did, it was explosive. I wondered, watching Andrew’s
easy smile, if he was the same.

My tongue shot into my cheek as I returned to studying David. He
must have women falling all over him. I cringed, chastising myself for letting
someone like him affect me. Someone who was that confident, someone who could
relax on command and who was that smoldering – someone like that knew
what he was doing. And was only interested in one thing.
Someone like him
, I thought,
must
have it so easy
.

“Well,” I interjected curtly, having returned to myself, who was a
little indignant. “Looks like I’m all cleaned up. Andrew, where’s Lucy? I’ve
hardly seen her tonight.” I stepped backwards, distancing myself from him. “David,”
I faltered for a split second, so that only someone watching closely would have
noticed. “Nice to meet you.”

With that I turned and strode back into the party. I found Lucy
within the next couple steps, despite the fact that I’d barely talked her at
all.

“Livs,” she said, touching my arm. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, Luce!” My voice came out high-pitched and unnatural. “What
a party. Professional planners?” I teased as I crinkled my nose.

Gretchen, who apparently had been keeping Jack company, saw us and
ran over.

“You guys are amazing,” Lucy said, looking from one to the other.
“Thank you for doing this.” Just then an impeccably-timed server passed with a
tray of bubbling champagne. Following Gretchen’s lead, we held up our glasses
to each other.

“To you, Lucy, and your
fiancé
,”
- Lucy smiled at the word – “all the best!” We each took a giddy sip.

“
Who
is that?” Gretchen
asked suddenly, but I didn’t need to turn to know. Lucy sought out Gretchen’s
mystery man and nodded knowingly when her eyes fixated behind me.

“That’s David,” Lucy stated. “He’s doing work for Andrew’s firm
and they’ve bonded over sailing.” Noticing Gretchen’s raised eyebrows she said,
“I know.”

“Sailing?” I asked.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” She pushed me with her fingertips.
“Andrew wants to get a boat.”

“He is just . . .” Gretchen trailed off, and I could almost see
the wheels turning in her head. A deceptively innocent smile touched her lips
as she seemed to make eye contact with him. He breezed by the three of us with
Lucy and Gretchen’s eyes conspicuously on him, and I was incensed that he might
think we were talking about him. “Look at that ass,” Gretchen commented, her
mouth twisting into an appreciative smirk.

“Oh Gretchen, don’t be vulgar!” Lucy cried.

“I’m just stating the obvious,” she said simply. “Don’t tell me
you weren’t thinking the exact same thing, Lucille Marie.” Lucy blushed crimson
at the suggestion and looked away. “That’s what I thought,” Gretchen said with
a nod and we laughed.

When I saw her sharp eyes still concentrated in his direction, my
laughter quickly faded. For the first time in a long time, I remembered the
excitement that came from being unattached, excitement born of possibility and
anticipation. “I’ll have to introduce myself later,” she said, more to herself
than to us. Panic descended.

“I met him in the kitchen,” I blurted, “and he seems like a jerk.
Andrew practically said he is a playboy. I wouldn’t bother.” My temperature
rose, and I wondered how many girls he had suckered in with those eyes; how
often he got what he wanted.

Gretchen gave me a curious glance, but it passed and she shrugged.
“I’m not looking to marry the guy.”

Lucy waved down a passing tray and handed us each a mini tuna
tartare. “It’s true. Andrew says since he’s met him, he’s seen him with a few
different women, and they were all striking. Yes, Andrew actually said
‘striking.’”

“No thanks,” Gretchen said, waving the appetizer away. “Are we
still on for lunch this week?”

I pivoted slightly so I could see David from the corner of my eye.
The bass of his endlessly deep voice vibrated in my ears as he talked
animatedly with someone, and I strained to hear.

Lucy’s voice cut unwelcomingly into my stalking attempt. “Olivia!
My God, what is with you? You’re acting strange.”

“What? What did I do?” I asked dazedly.

“We’re talking about lunch on Monday. She asked if you’re still
coming?”

“Lunch?”

“Yes. Park Grill? Bridal magazine bonanza.”

“Oh, lunch. Shit, I forgot.” I tugged absentmindedly at my right
earlobe, my brows furrowed, still trying to hear while answer Lucy. “That
should be fine, yes.”

“K, let’s meet at your office at eleven-thirty and walk together.”
Lucy said something else and looked at me.

“Sure, of course,” I replied. “Um, excuse me.” I ducked across the
living room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. Was I crazy? Why was I
letting him get under my skin?

I was experiencing an overwhelming need to get out of the crowd,
and I knew exactly where to do it. I pulled open the sliding glass door to the
balcony, took a lungful of fresh air and then coughed as smoke filled my
throat. I yanked the heavy door shut behind me when I spotted two lit cigarettes
in the corner. One of the smokers I recognized as Andrew’s receptionist and
nodded a hello to her. She looked about to say something, but I left for the
opposite end of the balcony before she could.

The iron railing felt cool under my palms when I touched it. I
shivered and wrapped my arms around my bare skin. In my haste, I hadn’t thought
to grab a jacket.

Every time I looked out at the skyline, it was like the first
time. Tiny blocks of light scattered randomly into the pattern of buildings,
and I wondered about the inhabitants; what they were doing in that very moment.
Leaning my stomach over the barrier, I examined the city below. It wasn’t a
long drop from the eighth floor, but it was enough to accelerate my heartbeat.

“Do you have any idea how
that makes me feel?” my mother screamed. I hid behind the stucco wall and
peered through the glass door as my father raised his hands in exasperation.

“Leanore, you’re being
ridiculous. Do you have any idea how that makes
me
feel? Like you don’t trust me!”

“How can I trust you
when you’re flirting with every woman in the hotel lobby! And in front of your
daughter!”

“Don’t you bring Olivia
into this,” he said, sticking his finger in her face. “This is your problem and
you’re ruining our vacation. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I turned away from the door
and looked over the railing that hit right below my eyes. My fingers grasped
the bars of the balcony, and I pulled on them as I lifted myself onto the balls
of my feet. I wondered what it might be like to fly. Had anyone ever tried?
Perhaps it was possible and nobody knew it. We’d learned about evolution in
school. Maybe we had wings that would know the difference between flying and
falling.

“Olivia.” I jumped at
the voice behind me. “Come in here and fix your hair,” my dad boomed. “I’ll
take you out for a milkshake but not until you brush those tangles out.”

For no reason at all, I turned and looked over my shoulder to find
the man filling the doorway, his hands fixed against the jamb and his head
slightly cocked as he watched me.
David
.
He appeared roguishly sexy in dark jeans and an open black pea coat.