Page 98 of Fifth Avenue Devil

My fingers tighten around the delicate stem of my glass. That’s a huge assumption on Cash’s part. Shaking my head, I move deeper into the opulent venue. If Nate’s plan was to make me feel agitated, it’s all playing out perfectly.

I wander around, sipping my cocktail and looking at the ballet-themed art. Nate got one part of this correct. I am pretty ballet-crazy for a girl who never wore pointe shoes.

"Annalise?” I turn to find a tall man with graying hair and sharp blue eyes extending his hand to me. "I'm Richard Palmer, CEO of Palmer Technologies. I've heard a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Palmer," I reply, shaking his hand firmly. "I hope the rumors haven't been too unkind."

"They haven’t. It’s just unfortunate that the national press was fed the wrong story about you. I’ve talked to Nate Fordham at length. From what I hear, you're a force to be reckoned with."

"Thank you. I try my best." I bob my head, not knowing how I should behave.

"Perhaps we could discuss potential collaborations between our companies sometime," Richard suggests. “Your ground-penetrating sonar technology is of particular interest to me.”

"That sounds…” I gulp. “Like an interesting opportunity?"

"Excellent," he replies. “I’ll have my assistant get in touch.”

I watch him go, trying not to gape. My mind reels from the encounter.

What is Nate planning to do here? Is this whole hall full of people he has talked to about me? I glance to my left and right. Tom Anderson, the VP of SoftPoint Software. Lisa Cheng, the CEO of Bradley Inc Investments. Djimon Hsu, an ultrawealthy patron of every charity I admire.

These people are obviously wealthy. And they could be here for the ballet? But maybe they’re more than ballet patrons.

It seems like they may be the movers and shakers of Fifth Avenue.

“Hello.” Nate’s amplified voice booms throughout the hall. “I’d like to bring your attention to the front here. In a few moments, the NYC Ballet is going to perform thedenouementof Swan Lake.”

Nate is standing on the grand staircase. His tuxedo is impeccably tailored, hugging his muscular frame to perfection. He exudes power and sensuality as he waits for the crowd to quiet down. As he does, his eyes search the crowd.

My heart’s curiosity is decidedly piqued by this exasperating man.

"Annalise," someone whispers in my ear. Lori Parker catches my elbow. She raises an eyebrow at Nate's entry, clearly intrigued. "Any idea what he's up to?"

“What are you doing here?” I ask, alarmed.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. I was just told to attend this ballet fundraiser. I didn’t know that you would be here. And I definitely didn’t expect Nate Fordham to be behind it.”

I whisper back, "I promised Nate I would listen. Other than that, I’m as in the dark as everyone else."

“Give me a signal and we’ll hightail it out of here.” Lori squeezes my arm. “You have an escape plan?”

Giving her a quick side hug, I exhale a long breath. “I’m going to give him a few more minutes to make his point.”

The lights dim, signaling the start of the ballet program. Ballerinas glide gracefully onto the makeshift stage. They are amazing; their movements so fluid yet tightly controlled. The audience watches, mesmerized.

My eyes drift to Nate. He remains visibly attentive, clapping politely after each act. But his gaze occasionally drifts to where I sit. I meet his gaze several times but break eye contact after a moment.

I’m not swayed by anything I’ve seen yet. Nate hasn’t made a personal, vulnerable plea to me yet. I keep expecting him to come over.

But he doesn’t. I grit my teeth, frustrated.

As the final act concludes to thunderous applause, I steal one last glance at Nate. He's deep in conversation with a technician, scanning the room as if assessing its readiness for something grand. My heart hammers in anticipation.

The applause for the final ballet act dies down. Nate strides onto the steps again, commanding attention with his mere presence. He clears his throat, and a hush falls over the room. I watch him intently, trying to guess what he has planned.

"I’d like to thank Calum Fordham for lending us his ballet company," he begins, his voice smooth and rich. "I hope you've enjoyed the enchanting performance we've seen tonight. But now, I have something personal to share with you all."

His gray eyes lock onto mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I feel both exposed and intrigued.

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