The next day, shortly before ten in the morning, I stood in front of 1 Fulton Street and stared up at one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city. Then I pulled out the leaf and took a long look at it to remind myself I hadn’t gone completely fucking insane.
There had to be some mistake; 1 Fulton Street was the address ofWilde Tower.
Wilde Tower housed the business offices of Severn Wilde and, if rumors were to be believed, his private residence, too. All I could think about was the charity event Zara had gone to the night before and how everyone had wanted a few minutes of Severn’s time. And now I was standing in front of a building with his name on it.
It was one of the most famous buildings in New York, both for its architectural beauty but also for the secrecy that surrounded it. Unlike many Manhattan skyscrapers, Wilde Tower didn’t have a public viewing deck or restaurant at the top. Security was heavy enough to even chase away the pigeons pecking near the brass turnstile door.
A guard in dark sunglasses was watching me, probably wondering why I’d been standing there for several minutes with my mouth hanging open, holding a leaf.
I snapped my jaw shut and tried to pull myself together.
I gave him a confused smile. “Um, I was told to come here for a job interview? For the nanny position?”
I couldn’t see behind his sunglasses, but something told me I was just minutes from having the cops called on me. But the guard touched his earpiece and had a quiet exchange with someone on the intercom, and then finally slid down his sunglasses.
“Fiftieth Floor. The elevator attendant will take you up.” He swept his hand toward the turnstile into the building.
“You aren’t going to check my ID?”
“They’ve already run a background check.”
I stared at him for a minute. Background check? I hadn’t told anyone my name, not even the woman on the phone yesterday. Once more, I wondered if this was a scam or, worse, some kind of human-trafficking operation. But nothing could be more reputable than Wilde Tower, even if the Wilde family was incredibly secretive.
“Okaaay.” I stuffed the leaf into my pocket and adjusted my purse.
As I walked into the building, I told myself to act like I belonged. But as soon as I was in the lobby, I practically tripped over my own feet, gawking at the beautiful architecture. It had an old-world charm mixed with 1920s glamor. There were Art Deco mosaics of forest scenes on the walls and a dazzling chandelier made out of silver-plated antlers. A massive fireplace roared on one side of the lobby, surrounded by sumptuous green velvet sofas.
A fireplace in a Manhattan office building? Was that up to code?
I guess the Wildes can get away with anything.
There was a circular reception desk staffed by a half dozen gorgeous employees who were swamped answering old-fashioned telephones and typing into sleek computer monitors.
A handsome young black man looked up at me through to-die-for lashes. He gave me the same skeptical look as the security guard.
“I’m—” I started.
“Fiftieth floor.” He jerked his chin toward the elevator behind him. “He’s expecting you.”
I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Who is? I don’t even know who I’m meeting with.”
But the receptionist was already turning away from me to pick up a ringing phone. “Wilde Tower, Linden speaking…”
Taking a deep breath, I made my way to the elevator. A single elevator for an entire building? That couldn’t be right. There must have been more elevators in an unseen section of the tower.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ridden an elevator that had an attendant, but as soon as the golden doors opened, I understood why. It was a vintage elevator with a complicated control panel full of buttons and levers. Instead of numbers, the buttons were labeled in strange symbols in a language I’d never seen before. Arabic? Cyrillic? Where exactly was the Wilde Family from? Severn and his famous siblings all had straight aquiline noses and sleek, fair hair, giving them a vaguely Nordic look. Or maybe it was just that their frigid reputations made me think of them as Ice Queens and Kings.
The elevator attendant was a petite young woman around my age with nutmeg eyes and silky black hair swept into a crown braid. She wore a black uniform dress that was perfectly tailored over her wide hips. I cleared my throat as I stepped into the elevator.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You know who I am and where I’m going?”
I detected a hint of a smile on her face as she closed the gate and pressed a combination of buttons. She threw the lever, and the elevator began to rise. “First time in Wilde Tower?” she asked.
Of all the people I’d come across, she seemed the most normal. I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Yeah, and actually, can I ask you something? How did you get your job working here? You didn’t find a…a leaf, did you?”
I thought I saw her suppress a laugh. She threw the lever again, and I could have sworn the elevator started movingsideways.
“A word of advice,” she said. “Be honest. They always can tell when you’re lying.”
