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David slid the door aside and motioned me through. “Welcome to the Revelin Resort.”
“Dave!” someone called from across the hollowed out room. A sturdy man approached, immediately engaging David in conversation. I wandered around the room, envisioning what it would become. It wasn’t much to see because of the construction, but I admired the al fresco vibe David had incorporated with large windows that spilled natural light.
I looked back in his direction. Three different people stood before him now, each one looking to him for something. His presence at my office had been overpowering, and it was just as much so here, even in all the empty space.
He stopped talking suddenly and looked about the room, uneasily it seemed, until he spotted me watching him. That current lasered between us in an instant. There was much unspoken, but I felt bound to him in an inexplicable, supernatural way. He came to me, leaving behind questioning faces, and I crossed my arms to keep from reaching out to him.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he approached.
I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I just nodded up at him confidently, trying to convey what I felt with my eyes. He placed a cautious hand on my shoulder, and the heat seared through my blouse, stinging the flesh directly beneath it. Broad shoulders acted as a shield to anyone who might be watching our restrained contact. I was painfully aware that it was the closest we could be without serious consequences. I studied his face, noting how the creases deepened with concern.
“I don’t want to push you,” he said, dropping his arm. “You need to make your own decisions.”
“Decisions?” I repeated. It had never occurred to me that I needed to decide anything. “David, my decisions were made years ago.” My words caught, and I tried to take a deep breath but my chest constricted. “I need you to be strong for me,” I said. “If we want to have any type of friendship I need to know that . . .”
“I know,” he said thickly, shoving his hands back in his pockets.
“That text the other night . . . If Bill had seen it . . . And now you’re working with Lucy?”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, but I haven’t told her about the article yet.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” I hesitated. “I guess it feels wrong.”
“Why? It’s work.”
“David, please. I’d really like us to be friends.” At that he grimaced. “Just please try to be more discerning, and don’t mention anything to Lucy just yet.”
“All right. I can back off.” He folded his arms across his chest and focused on the wall behind me.
“Thank you,” I said to deaf ears. I felt, inside, like the building; hollowed out and gutted. I had begun to crumble under David’s command, and I couldn’t help but feel like one of his projects. Was the deconstruction of my very being intentional?
“Wait here,” he said. “There’s one more thing I want you to see.” He returned a moment later with a conspicuously red helmet on his head and another in his hand.
“Better put this on,” he said, handing it to me. I wrinkled my nose at it and then looked up at him in full pout mode. My hair didn’t need another reason to act out. His face was stern as he urged me to take it, so I reluctantly agreed, carefully placing it atop my head.
I followed him through the scaffolding and over to the hoist, where he motioned me in. Tentatively, I took a step into the cage, testing the sturdiness of it. He stepped in behind me, and it jolted to life, carrying us slowly upward. When I realized we were approaching the roof, I stood on the tips of my toes.
“So this will be accessible to the guests in the penthouse suite,” he said as we stepped into the breezy sunshine. “This gutted area, next to the deck, will be a private infinity pool. It has a glass bottom so you can see into it from the suite.”
“How voyeuristic,” I mused. “Wow, does it hang over the edge?”
“Yes.” He led me over toward the edge, motioning for me to stop. “It’s cantilevered so you can swim out of the building and over the city. Listen,” he warned, “as you can see, there’s no barrier, so keep back. I just wanted you to see the view.”
I nodded, feeling child-like in my obedience. I rotated to take in the astonishing three hundred and sixty degree view of Chicago, thanks to the fact that the hotel was one of the tallest buildings in the city. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of an absolutely temperate day; the sun shone brilliantly, and it was just warm enough when I stood directly in it.
I edged closer and David tensed beside me. Being so high above everything else and completely alone with David was exhilarating. After the moment we’d just had, with his hand on me, I felt close to him. But not just physically. I was still buzzing from that unavoidable electric current, which had only heightened with his touch. I craned my neck over and took a step. And then another. I wanted to see what it would take to feel him again, to get that rush of electricity. I rolled forward on the balls of my feet. A little more lean . . . until he gently gripped my arm and pulled me back. It was no less stimulating, his touch, despite my plea to behave. I almost wished it were something that came with a knob, so I could turn it down. Almost.
“It’s so . . . ,” I started, looking out at the water, trying to find the words.
“Humbling,” he finished.
There wasn’t one person in our world, not one person who could see us upon the glass mountain. The breeze kicked, blowing my hair wildly so that I had to remove the hardhat and smooth it from my face. I tucked it under my arm and peered up at him. Another whip of the wind blew strands into my lip gloss. I could not take my eyes off of him.
Something in the air crackled with a charge that quickened my breath. At last, he turned his head and looked down at me, returning my stare. Briefly, so I almost didn’t see, he wet his lips, and I bit mine in response. I yearned to know how his mouth would feel on my skin, and I was sure it was written on my face. Any woman who looked as I must have right then knew exactly what she was doing.
I stood against the wind as it picked up speed. His face was unreadable as he looked into my eyes, but my breath shallowed in anticipation. I leaned a little closer, readying myself for what was surely coming. The wind lashed violently, and David abruptly looked away, squinting into the skyline.
The helmet slipped from my grip and bounced on the ground. He swooped down and grasped it effortlessly, handing it to me. “Put that on,” he ordered, avoiding my eyes. “Let’s go.”
~
The floor was quiet when I returned to work. I sneaked into my office, hoping to avoid Beman’s third degree. In the car, the mood had changed already. David seemed distant and although it bothered me, I knew it was for the best. It was what I had asked him for.
After working steadily for an hour, I headed into the kitchen for a break. Serena and Lisa were giggling over yogurts.
“Where’ve you been?” Lisa asked.
“She had an appointment with David Dylan,” Serena offered.
“Oh,” Lisa said, looking away.
“Wait, have you seen this? Beman brought it,” Serena said, picking up a magazine. She flipped through and held it open for me. I found myself staring at the Architectural Digest article. I glanced at them impassively. Despite my messy afternoon with David, controlling my reaction in front of most people was second nature.
“Wow, he is so hot,” she said. “He’s like, even better in person though.”
