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“It’s not bad,” Bill said. “It needs a lot of work before it’ll be on par with the rest of the neighborhood, though.”
“Honey,” I said quietly. “I don’t want it to look like the rest of the neighborhood. Those homes are so generic.”
“Okay, okay. It’s a little early yet, babe.”
“Anyway,” I said to the group, “we aren’t sure we can even afford to take on a project like that. That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
Andrew was looking off into the distance, stroking Lucy’s hair when he perked up suddenly. “Have David look at it.”
“What?” David and I asked in unison.
“Isn’t this, like, your thing, dude?”
“Well, uh,” he stammered.
“What do you do, David?” Bill asked.
“I’m an architect.”
“But he flips houses too,” Andrew offered.
“It’s not even really for sale,” I interjected. “The owners are just letting us see it.”
“I remember now,” Bill said thoughtfully. “Andrew mentioned that before. It would mean a lot if you could check it out, give me an idea as to how much it would cost.”
David cleared his throat again and looked down into his beer bottle.
“Honey, David’s at the top of his field. He’s probably really busy.”
“Dave, what do you say?” Andrew asked. “Help out a friend? Bill’s a lawyer. Maybe you can swap expertise.”
“I have a lawyer,” he replied sternly as he obviously avoided my pleading stare. When everyone remained quiet, he swallowed loudly. “But sure,” he said. “Maybe.”
“Cool.” Bill nudged me with his foot. “There you go, babe. We’re gettin’ things done.” I nodded downward and picked at the label on my bottle.
“Do you still want to play that board game, Luce?” Gretchen asked.
“Hmm?”
Andrew put his finger over his lips and rolled his eyes. He mouthed, She’s sleeping.
“So much for wedding night sex,” Dani said under her breath, and everyone laughed. I caught her lusty glance at David and inadvertently ripped the label from the bottle.
“I’m tired too,” I said suddenly, getting up.
“Oh, okay.” Bill went to stand.
“No, honey, it’s fine. Have fun.” I waved at him to stay seated, and he fell back on the couch. “Goodnight everyone.”
I rubbed the end of my nose and sniffed as I ascended the stairs. Shit. If they were going to sleep together, I definitely didn’t want it flaunted in my face. I had enough to deal with as it was.
When Bill returned to the room, I feigned sleep. I smelled cigars on his breath as he climbed in and kissed me on the cheek. I gripped my pillow and willed away my insomnia.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I finally got out of bed and went to sit in the bay window. Drawing my knees to my bare chest, I looked over at Bill in the faint moonlight. He snorted and flipped onto his back. I looked out the window at the backyard. It was still and peaceful, opposite from the bustling city I was used to. Even in that perfect stillness, I was having trouble sleeping.
Who was I kidding? It wouldn’t have mattered where I was. David and Bill in the same house had my mind buzzing. David said he’d come to the wedding to see me. But why? Why make things harder than they already were? And he looked so handsome. He possessed every woman within proximity. Why did he have to be so damn irresistible? So exceptionally gorgeous in his urbane tuxedo?
I scanned the lawn below. And why did he hold a permanent place in my thoughts?
Bill coughed, and I looked back at him. “Come back to bed,” he mumbled.
I nodded, but I didn’t move. When his breathing evened again, I stood and fumbled for my robe in the dark. I slipped into the hallway and ran a hand through my hair before tiptoeing downstairs.
There was a soft, single light on in the kitchen. I hesitated. I looked back over my shoulder and then again at the doorway. My heart caught on quickly to what my brain already knew: in that kitchen I would find David.
CHAPTER 7
SOMETHING DARK FILLED the shallow glass in David’s hand. He looked up at me with hooded eyes as he leaned casually against the counter.
I remained in the doorway a moment as we stared at each other. “Water,” I said finally.
He straightened and grabbed a glass from behind his head. I entered the kitchen and went to take it from him, but he turned and opened the refrigerator.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked while he retrieved a pitcher.
“Not at all.”
I glared at him while he filled my glass. When he’d finished, he handed it to me and set the pitcher on the island behind me. “What?” he asked.
“Because of Dani?”
“Oh . . . No. I just have a lot on my mind.” He resumed his stance against the counter opposite me.
“So you didn’t . . . with her?”
“I have my own room.”
“Hm.” The water was cold and soothing as I sipped it.
“What about you?”
“I can’t sleep either.”
“Why not?”
I set the glass down and looked away. “I guess I have a lot on my mind.” I sighed. “I’m not really used to the peace and quiet.”
“I know what you mean. I sleep better in the city.”
I nodded and looked back at him. “That was nice of you to fly back early for the wedding. I’m sure it made Dani happy.”
“Like I told you earlier – I didn’t do it for her.”
I crossed my arms and played with the tie of my robe until the silence became awkward. “It’s been a while since we were, like, alone together,” I said softly. “I guess.”
“Fifteen weeks.” He shrugged. “But who’s counting?”
He looked too good for three in the morning, reclined against the counter. His dark hair was soft, no longer perfect, as though he’d showered since the ceremony. My fingers tingled with the urge to touch it. His t-shirt was tight over his broad shoulders, and he wore drawstring navy and green tartan pants. I struggled for something to say, not trusting my disobedient thoughts. “So you took a job out of town, I heard.”
He nodded. “Yes. I’m here half the week to finish up the hotel and in New York through the weekends. I needed the distraction.”
“From what?”
He hesitated. “Life.”
I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I said, “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”
“You as well. Congratulations on your promotion.”
“How did you know?”
“I just know.”
“I see.”
“What I didn’t know is how much weight you’ve lost. It’s upsetting. It concerns me.”
“Does it?”
“Yes, of course. Your well-being is – I mean, it’s your health, Olivia.”
I looked out the window over the sink. “Have you heard anything from Cooper about Mark Alvarez?” I asked.
“The piece of shit knows he’s guilty for attacking you, so he took a plea bargain.”
I widened my eyes. “Oh. Nobody told me.”
During waking hours, I actively avoided thinking about the encounter, but as I slept, my mind refused to let it go. The memory that haunted my nightmares flashed before my ey
es: Mark chasing me into an empty alley, laughing as he pinned my front against a wall. He hissed in my ear that Bill would pay for what he’d done – prosecuting Mark’s brother in a trial that would land him behind bars for a decade. And then, relief when David had come to my rescue, detaining Mark until the police arrived.
“We don’t have to testify,” David continued. “There won’t be a trial. Basically he won’t serve as much time, but he’s still going to prison for a while.”
“So I don’t need to worry anymore?”
He cocked his head. “Have you been worried?”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“Don’t. I’m looking out for you.”
“How can you be? You’re not around.”
He shifted against the counter. “I know. I meant you would have heard from me if I’d thought you were in danger.”
“Oh.”
“You know, the night in the alley, it was fortuitous that I was there. But the truth is, I had started driving by your office on my way home. I still do.”
“David.” It was a warning. I felt more comforted by his confession than I should, as if him driving by each night would keep anything bad away. Little did he know that my demons were on the inside, where nobody could save me.
He nodded and looked away. I picked up my glass and took a drink, waiting for his gaze to find me again. But it didn’t.
“You’re looking for a house,” he said flatly. I wasn’t sure if he’d meant it as a question, so I just nodded. His laugh was empty as he shook his head at the floor.
“And you’re dating Dani.”
His chest rose with a deep inhalation. “Not exactly.”
I pursed my lips. “She seems to think so.”
“We’ve been out a few times at Lucy’s insistence,” he said, pulling at his chin.
“You’re here together.”
He looked at me again. “I was invited before I even met her.” I responded with a pointed look of skepticism, and his lips pressed together. “I suppose, in a sense, we are dating.”
“Did it ever occur to you how that might make me feel?”
“You don’t exactly get a say, honeybee.”
My grip tightened around my glass. Honeybee. The hazy postcoital glow from our one night washed over me. “Don’t call me that.”
