Page 18 of Fifth Avenue Devil

“Ah!” Calum says, then turns to Nate and adds, “I know you and Archer butted heads quite a bit. Hopefully you’ll get along a little better with Annalise.”

I bite my tongue against the urge to tell Calum that I did not give him permission to refer to me by my first name. I’m still hanging awkwardly in the doorway, clinging to the shadows.

“We’ll see,” I reply.

Calum smiles coolly. “I didn't mean to interrupt your enjoyment of the performance. I just wanted to reschedule our failed meeting, Nate."

Nate smiles. "Well, you had somewhere else to be, didn't you?" To me, he says, "Calum's wife went into labor a week early a day before we were supposed to grab a drink."

"It's true," Calum says. "I can't say that I'm especially regretful, though. I missed the meeting, but if I’d gone, I would have missed the birth."

Nate laughs. "You chose correctly."

"I think so." Calum smiles. "I should get back to my seat. But I wanted to say hi. Also to tell you that Christoph Meyer, the CEO of Pomegranate Tech, is holding court downstairs. I know you wanted to catch up with him."

"I'll have my PA call yours. We'll see if we can't find a few hours to play racquetball or something." Nate flashes a grateful look at his cousin.

"Or something." Calum smiles vaguely at me. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Gellar."

At least Calum doesn’t call me by my first name, unlike Nate. With a parting smile, Calum heads out the door.

Nate turns back to me, raising an eyebrow. “Meyer owes me three-hundred thousand dollars for backing out of a deal at the last minute. I’ve been trying to catch him in person to pin him down to an agreement, so I’m going downstairs for a minute. Would you like to come?”

Licking my lips, I open my mouth to say yes. Then I pause, remembering my earlier concern. What if strangers can tell that Nate and I were fooling around? I would actually die of embarrassment.

I shake my head. “I think I’ll stay and watch the ballet.”

Nate shrugs. “Suit yourself.” Without another word, he turns and vanishes down the hall.

I walk into the box and try to decide what to do. Should I stay?

Will that mean that I have to reckon with Nate again?

Feeling like a coward, I grab my wrap and drape it around myself as I flee, heading for a back door so I am not forced to see Nate as I leave.

Seven

Annalise

Iwalk into the ballroom of the Prestige hotel in downtown Manhattan. Several volunteers from the New York Endowment for Movement Arts are already setting up chairs to face a runway stage. I'm a little surprised. I thought I was here to volunteer. But I was told to be here at ten-thirty.

Am I late, somehow?

I look at my watch as a woman pops her head out from the curtains behind the stage. "You're here!"

I gulp and look over to find Ms. Vasquez hurrying down the discreetly built-in steps beside the stage. Ms. V, as she insists on being called, is my mother's best friend. She's waving me over with intense excitement.

I just came to help the charity put on their annual bachelorette auction. My mother being here was not a part of the plan.

Kicking myself for coming at all, I head over to the stage. Mrs. V looks me up and down. "Are you wearing a cute dress under that coat?"

I pull my white wool coat closer around me and frown. Mrs. V always wears loud, bright colors and frankly scandalous outfits. She favors halter tops and miniskirts, as is evidenced today in her outfit of hot pink pleather pants and a bright yellow tube top.

"I didn't realize that I had to look a certain way," I mumble as she hustles me backstage. "I'm just here to volunteer."

"We will find you something good!" Mrs. V declares.

We walk over to the area where several women are being primped and made up for the auction. Poor things. They are being plucked and plumped as if they are cattle, being readied for sale.Yuck. I’m glad that’s not me.

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