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42: Narrow Escapes
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2021-01-03 12:27:28With the New York Times tucked under one arm and his hands in his pockets, Andrew hurried across the Trust’s lobby, whistling Where or When. It had played last night at some point when he and Evelyn had danced and had kept playing in his head until he’d woken this morning with the memory of her lips and skin and lissome body against him.
When he rounded the corner into their thirty-eighth floor office, Andrew stood stock still, staring at the empty space behind her desk where Evelyn should be, then darted down the narrow hall to the kitchenette, disappointed to find it empty of all except a brewed pot of delightful smelling coffee.
Sliding his tongue over his front teeth, wracking his brain for where she might be, he ambled slowly into his office then grinned. The sturdy coffee mug of clear pink glass he stubbornly refused to relinquish to Evelyn sat steaming its fragrant bouquet in the exact spot he liked it on h
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Dear God, Evelyn thought trudging up the Trust’s stairs. Even this early in the day, the monotonous gray cement stairwell was blisteringly hot and stuffy, and her rising physical discomfort added to the intertwined panic and confusion clanging madly in her head. She wondered which one of them was lying about their identity— Edwardo Montero? Or Mrs. Stiles. Probably both, she thought contemptuously. No question about why Evelyn herself didn’t like either of them—why her stomach twisted into pretzel knots the instant either of them was around—and knowing they were together in whatever malign scheme they were hatching only made it worse. ‘We need to talk’, the sleazy detective had said menacingly. She doubted it. Yet the same instinct that made her insides wrench with anxiety upon seeing him, lit up her neural pathways like the Empire State building at night, anxious to hear what he had to say. Just not whil
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Andrew’s voice sounded raspy, doubtless from the argument with his mother, but still cultured, elegant and cool. Between the gravel in his voice and his disheveled appearance, his fine suit wrinkled as he sat cross-legged on the floor like one of the children, the exchange they were having seemed absurd, even bordering on surreal. Stripped of his polished veneer, he should have sounded fanatic. Instead, he sounded entirely sincere. Evelyn’s heart lurched and her eyes widened in shock, then the cold hard truth intruded again. She had to keep her defenses up—she was too big of a pushover to his charms otherwise, and all that had landed her was a broken heart. “You want what you can’t have, Andrew.” Cocking his head, he huffed a laugh and flashed her a megawatt smile. “That’s not how I imagined that going.” “Cinderella stories only work for real princesses.” He look
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“What do you suppose he’s doing here?” Evelyn scarcely looked up at Lily’s question. Instead she gave a grateful sigh as they emerged from the revolving door. Removing the handkerchief from her purse, she wiped her nose. “The same thing everyone else is—working or banking.” As they neared the elevators and the density of the crowd increased, Lily’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh, please. Did you even look up?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t, but I would hope you’d understand. I’m not exactly at my best right now.” She dabbed her nose again and folding the kerchief tightly around itself, tucked it back in her purse. Glancing up, she startled when Lily’s hands closed on her upper arms. Her sky blue eyes were focused elsewhere. “He’s not banking, and I guarantee if he’s working, it’s not here.” Following Lily’s gaze, Evelyn studied the man in question bri
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Andrew stood before the window in the private hospital room. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched the traffic flow below.A great deal weighed heavily on his mind, not least of which was his concern over Evelyn. She lay sleeping off the effects of the sedative the doctors had given her prior to her examination. He was still anxiously awaiting the report from the physician.Montero was dead.While he understood neither he nor Evelyn were under suspicion—in fact, the current most probable suspect by his best estimation was the remarkably unfortunate Mr. Aldrich, who was unlikely to ever resurface and provide any sort of accounting for himself or his actions. Had Andrew not been familiar with the kind of zealous violence favored in underworld thugs with ties to Tammany Hall, he might have felt bad for the luckless fellow.Almost.At present, he was more concerned with protecting his own.A soft rap at the door pulled him from his cycling thoughts. Spying the long white lab coat embroid
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The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
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The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
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World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
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