Page 97 of Fifth Avenue Devil

The Met’s grand hall has been transformed into a dazzling venue fit for royalty. Crystal chandeliers cast shimmering light across the white and gold accents that are draped on the walls. Delicate floral arrangements topped with tiny glass ballet dancers are placed every twenty feet. Elegant ballet-inspired statues and paintings dot the length of the hall.

The atmosphere is absolutely electric. The place is packed, more full than I’ve ever seen the spacious lobby be. A palpable current of anticipation buzzes through the air. Tiny white note cards hang at intervals from the ceiling on long white strings. I reach up to touch one of the cards, but I’m interrupted by an inquiring voice.

"Miss? Would you like a Grand Jeté Gin Fizz?" A passing waiter extends a tray toward me, offering a frothy white cocktail garnished with a delicate pirouetting ballerina made of sugar.

I take the glass, my eyes widening. “Thank you.”

I have a sip, savoring the silky, citrusy-sweet flavor. The drink is surprisingly effervescent. I take another sip as I touch the white card hanging near me. It reads simply, “I’m sorry, Kitten.”

I almost spit my mouthful of cocktail on the floor. Looking around, I wonder what everyone else thinks. Will they understand that Kitten is my nickname? I have no idea.

What is Nate up to?

My gaze sweeps over the room in search of that infuriating man. Admittedly, he has both captivated and challenged me. Where is he? And what does he want from me tonight?

"Have you seen Nate?" I ask another guest, a woman bedecked in diamonds and silk.

"Who are you looking for, dear?" she inquires. She lifts an eyebrow.

"Nate Fordham.” I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks at the mention of his name.

"Ah, Mr. Fordham," the woman crows. "Quite the enigma, isn't he? I saw him make a grand entrance earlier. You might want to look for him near the stage."

I thank her and thread my way through the crowd toward where she pointed. The Met’s grand hall doesn’t usually have a stage. But I can see that the huge marble staircase in the center of the hall is roped off. That must be what the woman meant.

I take another sip of the cocktail, savoring its sweet and tangy flavor, and continue my search. I pass by another note hanging from the ceiling. When I check this one, it says, “I would choose you in every lifetime.”

The note gives me pause. Is this what Nate actually feels? The note is scrawled on the card and the handwriting feels familiar, but I can’t be certain.

And so what if it is how he feels? Is that enough of an apology for publicly humiliating me?

"Annalise!" Someone calls my name.

I turn sharply, only to see one of Nate's brothers waving at me from across the room. It’s Cash. Not my favorite person, if I’m being honest. My heart sinks a little, knowing that whatever he has planned, his family is here, too.

"Hello, Cash." I force a smile as I approach him. "Have you seen Nate?"

"Don't worry. He'll find you when he's ready." Cash smiles pleasantly.

I notice that there is no attempt to hit on me. Cash seems to be a completely different person. I don’t trust it.

“What, no comment on my body or how I look in this dress?” I say dryly.

Cash gives me a sober glance. “Nate told me to behave myself tonight. He also threatened me with bodily harm if I said anything to upset you.”

“Did he now?” I eye Cash. “And you’re respecting that?”

“Of course. Nate said the magic words. ‘I’m going to marry her’.” He puts his hands up as if he’s surrendering. “You’re off limits now.”

“What?” I say, sucking in a breath. “He said that?”

“Close enough. I told Nate if he gave you a diamond, you would probably tell him where to stick it.” Cash wiggles his eyebrows. “Be nice to Nate, Annalise. The poor guy is kicking himself for doing you wrong.”

"No offense, Cash. But you aren’t the person I want to take life advice from.”

"Enjoy the evening, Annalise," Cash says with a wink. "I’ll see you soon.”

“What does that mean? See me when?” I call. But he’s moving away.

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