Great. Not going to the ballandgetting accused of gatecrashing.
Cinderella never had this problem.
Twelve
Vicky
The man who eventually arrives isn’t security. He’s in black tie, for one. For another, he’s middle-aged, a little portly, and oozes wealth and authority.
I watch him walk across the courtyard and try not to quail. Maybe an early apology will help.
But he speaks before I get a chance to.
“Marco DeLuca, my dear,” he says as he walks up, voice welcoming and warm. A hell of a lot warmer than I am, after waiting here this long. “So sorry to keep you. What an awful mess-up on the list.”
He doesn’t even look at the security guard but simply offers me an arm, and I take it because I don’t know what else to do.
“I had an inkling you’d be coming,” he says conspiratorially as he leads me slowlyacross the courtyard. Perhaps he’s being mindful of my high heels, but I’m so damn cold I just want to get inside. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
“Thank you,” I say, careful to keep my teeth from chattering. “I’m Vicky Callahan. Here with Alex Reyes.”
“Oh, I know, my dear. I know.” He pats my hand reassuringly. “I work with Alexander. I’m his managing partner. My wife, Maria, has beenverykeen to meet you.”
That doesn’t sound too bad. “Thank you,” I say again, resisting the urge to tug my coat closer.
“She’s just inside,” Marco says. “Come, let’s get you warm.”
Inside, the Metropolitan Club leans heavy on marble, burgundy and gilt, dripping with age, high-class, and society. It’s not my scene at all. It’s very much Alex’s. But at least it’s warm.
The woman who meets us is a few years younger than Marco, with an interesting face. A few laughter lines show a predilection toward a good nature, but there’s a hard severity in her eyes and the way she holds her mouth, like she’s seen some sadness.
“Oh, you poor thing.” She waves off the uniformed man who comes to take my coat, and I’m immediately grateful to her for that. “Shall we wait here a while until you’ve warmed up?”
There’s a heater just inside the door, and I can feel the hot air restoring my blood flow. I give her a grateful look, and addmotherlyto my assessment of her.
“I’ll leave you in my wife’s capable hands, Victoria,” Marco says amenably. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Perhaps we might have a dance later?”
I’m loath to agree, because if he’s Alex’s boss, that would be even more humiliating. I settle for a safer reply. “Thank you again for rescuing me.”
“Not at all.” He doesn’t seem to mind my evasion, smiles, and heads on inside.
Through the open doorway there’s a grand hall filled with people, the hubbub of talking secondary to music from a small chamber orchestra somewhere out of sight. Couples sweep across a dance floor with more proficiency than I’ll ever manage. The marble theme continues, white veined with green like subtlety has no place. A staircase draws my eye to the rear of the room, two sides rising to a central landing then splitting again, sweeping left and right in perfect symmetry. People stand on it, talking together as they watch the room beneath. It looks like the ideal place to watch from, and I’m drawn to it—not least because it’s out of the way. Off the floor.
Maria stands quietly beside me, not trying to fill the silence with babble, letting me take it in. She looks Italian, the name supporting it, as does Marco. It conjures up pictures of large family gatherings and home cooking, but something suggests she doesn’t have children. Obviously, I don’t ask.
Instead, I finally unbutton my coat, the warm air having done its work. A man appears to take it, giving me no chit in return. That’s service—or it will be, if I get the right coat back.
“Feeling better, dear?” Maria asks.
“Thank you, yes.” I’ve been here five minutes and thanked them that many times. I take in a breath, lift my head, square my shoulders, and try to remember that I’m a highly competent private investigator here on a mission.
And hope she doesn’t walk me straight over to wherever Alex is.
She doesn’t. “This is your first social event with the Company, is it not?”
There’s a subtle emphasis on ‘company,’ like it carries meaning. “That’s right. Alex hasn’t invited me to any others.” I wouldn’t know if he’s been, or if so with whom. Also, I need to stop mentioning him.
“Of course not. This is Alex’s first.”
