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Something in the Way(56)

By:Jessica Hawkins




I loved Manning before I knew the meaning of the word. I was too young,  he said. I would wait. Through all the carefully-chosen words hiding  what we knew to be true, through his struggle to keep me innocent, and  through infinitely-starry nights-I would wait. But I'd learn that life  isn't always fair. That no matter how much you achieve, none of it  matters if you suffer the heartbreak that comes with falling for someone  you can never have. Because even though I saw Manning first, that  didn't matter. My older sister saw him next. Learn more.





About the Author





Jessica Hawkins is an Amazon bestselling author known for her  "emotionally gripping" and "off-the-charts hot" romance. Dubbed "queen  of angst" by both peers and readers for her smart and provocative work,  she's garnered a cult-like following of fans who love to be torn  apart … and put back together.                       
       
           



       



She writes romance both at home in California and around the world, a  coffee shop traveler who bounces from café to café with just a laptop,  headphones, and coffee cup. She loves to keep in close touch with her  readers, mostly via Facebook, Instagram, and her mailing list.





For more information:

@jess_hawk

jessicahawkinsauthor

www.jessicahawkins.net





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The Cityscape Series tells a compelling story of devotion, deception, and forbidden love. Come Undone is book one of three.



Olivia Germaine has already found love. Devoted wife, loyal friend,  determined career woman-she's created the life she always envisioned.  But when Olivia locks eyes with a handsome stranger across a crowded  room, he peers a little too closely and sees emotions she thought she'd  buried long ago.



David Dylan, alleged playboy and eternal bachelor, challenges Olivia to  confront the life she's built and to make decisions that could either  lead to happiness … or regret.



Will Olivia be able to draw the line between lust and love? And can David respect that line?





1





EVER SO SLOWLY, I touched the tube to my parted lips and glided on the  Ruby Red. I had always lacked the patience for lipstick and only used it  for special occasions. Next came a translucent lip gloss that left  threads of goop as I smoothed my lips together. I drew back slightly  from the mirror to admire my work.

Perfectly coiffed hair, teased and styled into a long bob, floated just  at my shoulders, every shiny brown lock suspiciously cooperating. In the  trash laid the scattered teeth of yet another broken comb. I'd wrestled  especially long with my tangles tonight, but looked particularly poised  as a result; so much so, that if one thing were to tremble, everything  else would come tumbling down. Or so it seemed. In that moment, I caught  Bill's gaze in the reflection, his normally mild eyes watching me  intently. I quickly forgot that feeling of unease.

"You look good," he said, admiring my emerald green dress.

"Your favorite color."

"Because it matches your eyes." I picked at a mascara smear on the  mirror with my fingernail. "Do we have to go tonight?" he asked.

"What?" I'd successfully chipped off the mark, but now I was faced with the messy smudge of a fingerprint.

"Tonight. Let's stay in."

"Everyone's going to be there." I tossed makeup products back into the  drawer and wiped the counter with my palm. "People pay good money for  these tickets, babe."

"Whose idea was this again?"

"Andrew's firm got tickets for their clients. Not everyone could make it, so he invited us."

"But," he began. A quick glare silenced him. He held up his palms in defeat. I turned back to my reflection.

I checked my eyeliner one last time to make sure it was even. "I talked  to my dad today. He'll be in Chicago for a night next month and wants to  have dinner."

Bill groaned and slumped in the doorway.

"What? You don't want to go to the ballet. You don't want to have dinner with my father. It's only one night."

"And you're so thrilled when my parents drive in."

"Touché." I flipped my hair over my shoulder and pushed a gold stud  through my ear. "Well, you don't have to come, but I know he'd like to  see you."

"Sure he would, where else does he get free legal advice?"

"Oh, please. He has plenty of corporate lawyer friends."

"Not for work, Olivia. For his divorce from Gina. Lawyer friends don't put up with that shit, they charge you for it."

"Well, get used to it, ‘cause he's not going anywhere. I'm sure if you  ever need advice on how to win over girls half your age, he'd be happy  to help."

"Half my age?" he repeated as he came up behind me and encircled my  waist. A piece of brown hair fell over his eye. He was overdue for a  haircut. "Are you trying to get me locked up? I'd say I've got my hands  full married to a twenty seven-year-old."

"Bill," I whined, swatting his hands away. "You'll wrinkle my dress, and I'm finally ready."

"Yes, darling," he said with a sly smile, backing away. "I'll pull the  car around." I followed him out but pivoted back, grabbed a hand towel,  and wiped the smudge away.                       
       
           



       



We arrived at the performance minutes before curtain. Teetering in my  heels, I clung to Bill's arm as we scoured the crowd for familiar faces.  Sophistication perfumed the lobby, as if it had been bottled and sold  to Chicago's elite. Smartly dressed women carefully stepped down  scarlet-carpeted steps, passing beneath elaborate chandeliers that cast  shadowy corners.

"There they are," Bill said. From behind, my two best friends,  registering at just a few inches over 5 feet, could almost be sisters.  Gretchen, in a revealing pink dress and boosted by spiky heels, gestured  wildly to the group around her. Her long platinum hair bounced in  signature curls with each exaggerated movement.

Next to her, Lucy dodged Gretchen's flailing limbs, anticipating her  every movement. She wore a boat-neck black dress, and her short brown  hair was fashioned into a perfect chignon.

Her boyfriend, Andrew, stood off to the side, wringing a program. Upon  spotting us, he grinned toothily and beckoned us over. "Sorry, Gretch,"  he interrupted. "Everyone, this is Lucy's other best friend, Liv  Germaine, and her husband Bill Wilson."

"What, now I'm the other best friend?" I joked, shaking hands with someone. "I only introduced them, you know."

Lucy looked up at me with big brown eyes before hugging me. "Look, we're  the same height now," she said, showing off uncharacteristically high  shoes.

"I don't know, shrimp," Bill said. "Liv's still got some inches on you."

"Anyway," Gretchen interjected impatiently, "the plane lands, and I rush  to the station, just barely making the train. Since it's now one in the  morning and I've been traveling for fourteen hours, I immediately pass  out. When I wake up, the-what are they called-stewardesses?-she says,  ‘Welcome to Chile!'"

"Chile!" one of the women cried.

"I'd gotten on the wrong train, slept through the entire ride, and ended up in Santiago."

Everyone laughed. I politely joined in, though I'd heard the story twice before.

"To make matters worse, it was fifty-something degrees outside, and I was wearing shorts and a tank top."

The man next to me guffawed loudly. He was the only one who'd been introduced without a partner; Gretchen's lure was cast.

"Oh, I think it's time," Lucy said when the lights pulsed.

The single man sidled up to Gretchen as we made our way to our seats.  "What do you do that you can take off to Chile whenever you like?"

"Entertainment PR," she said, batting her eyelashes.

"Hook, line, and sinker," Bill whispered, reading my mind. Gretchen  turned and shot us a dirty look when I giggled. "Uh oh, Windex is mad,"  he said with a playful smile. Her face softened. She liked Bill's  nickname for her. When I'd introduced them, he'd said hers were the  bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Once we were seated, he leaned over so only I could hear. "Are you  familiar with the tale of Odette and Prince Siegfried?" He passed me a  program. "Swan Lake. Just another love story gone wrong." He laughed at  my expression. "I probably never mentioned my parents took me as a  teenager. Another thing to give me culture."