I pivoted slightly to see David better. He gestured with purpose as he spoke to another man, his voice endlessly deep, vibrating in me, although I couldn’t make out what he was saying. His audience nodded along. Did David make every man and woman feel as if he or she were the only person in the room? That was how I’d felt the moment we’d locked eyes—as if he’d been looking for me all along. Craved me. Hungered for me.
“I’m desperate to know you.”
As I stared at him, it was all I heard—the grave rumble of his voice, and words I should never want from anyone but my husband.
“Olivia,” Lucy snapped, sounding exasperated. “What iswithyou? You’ve been acting strange all night.”
“What?” I asked, blinking back to reality. “What’d I do?”
“Gretchen and I are talking about having lunch at Park Grill on Monday. She asked you twice if that works for you.”
I swallowed, my throat dry as I tried to refocus on the conversation. “Lunch? Why?”
Gretchen scoffed. “So we need a reason to spend the afternoon with you?”
“We have a reason: bridal magazine bonanza,” Lucy said. “You have no idea the amount of work ahead of us just picking out a dress style alone.”
“Oh,” I said, tugging on my earring, still shamelessly trying to eavesdrop while also answering Lucy. “That should be fine, yes. Where?”
“Park Grill,” they said in unison, clearly growing frustrated with me.
“Right. Yes. Let’s do it.” What was wrong with me? I was letting a complete stranger get under my skin and interrupt an important night for Lucy. And it wasn’t even the first time David had invaded my private moments. The memory of stripping for my husband while I’d thought of David washed over me, followed by a flood of guilt.
David stopped speaking and looked directly at me. There wasn’t even a hint of uneasiness or surprise in his face, yet my body buzzed, as if coming to life just for him.
He had a fucking spell on me.
Me, and every other woman in the room.
I had to break it or escape it.
With a mumbled apology to my friends, I ducked away, keeping my gaze anywhere but on David as I forced myself away in search of fresh air.
Break it. Escape it.
Those were the only two options. They had to be.
4
Icooled my palms on the iron railing of Lucy and Andrew’s spacious eighth-floor balcony. Sharp-edged buildings of varying heights surrounded their downtown apartment, some towering, some short enough that I caught glimpses of the Chicago River.
A city full of people, and then me, looking in from the outside.
I wasn’t alone, though. Like at the theater weeks ago, I was surrounded by friends. Bill was just a phone call away. I’d met, at some point or another, many of the people in the apartment. But it didn’t seem to matter how many smiles and greetings I’d avoided as I’d made my way through the crowd. Iwasalone. I had been for a long time without giving it much thought, but the mysterious stranger—David—his presence heightened that feeling, as if he’d shown up to poke at old wounds.
His eyes on me made everything in my life feel like it belonged to another woman. As if I’d been playing a role, biding my time until he would come along. With him, there was a connection I couldn’t explain—the feeling of being wanted, loved, desired.
When we were in the same room, I was anything but alone.
And that was dangerous. I had every reason to be terrified.
I took a lungful of fresh air—and coughed as smoke filled my throat. I glanced over my shoulder. Two lit cigarettes floated in the opposite corner of the balcony. I recognized one smoker as Andrew’s receptionist and nodded at her. She looked about to speak, but I turned forward again.
Every time I took in the city, it was like the first time I’d visited as a girl. Holding my dad’s hand on the sidewalk outside our hotel while trying to soak in everything at once. The grandness of downtown Chicago had a way of humbling me, and that was oddly more comforting than trying to hide in a roomful of people. Out here, I was free. Nobody expected anything from me or disappointed me. Tiny blocks of light scattered randomly into the patterns of buildings, and I wondered about the inhabitants—what they were doing at that very moment.
Leaning over the barrier, I examined the people walking the streets below. It wasn’t a long drop from the eighth floor, but it was enough to accelerate my heartbeat and take me back to that first visit some twenty years ago.
“Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?” my mother screamed from inside the hotel room. On the balcony, I hid behind the stucco wall and peered through the glass door.
