Page 66 of Fifth Avenue Devil

Is my father dying?

Why is my mom in my apartment again?

So many unanswered questions ring through my mind. The elevator doors open, and I burst into my apartment, almost in tears.

But when I run into the living room, I find my mother reclining on a leather couch, laughing as she talks to a pretty young woman. Mom has been at work in this room because it’s completely bare. The sofa and a single matching chair are the only pieces of furniture in the vast living room. There’s nothing on the walls, and no sign of where all the stripped art and furniture went.

Fuck. Mom’s been in my penthouse unattended forhours.

My fears are confirmed when Mom spots me and calls out. “We’re in here!”

I walk into the room, looking for somewhere to put down my purse. I swing left and right, and then growl in exasperation. “Mom! Where the hell did my furniture go?!”

Mom doesn’t skip a beat. Her smile remains wide and unbothered. “Annalise,language. I stopped by a little early to tidy up for Scarlet.”

I drop my purse on the empty floor and grit my teeth. “You said that you were having an emergency! You know that I thought that Dad had another stroke, don’t you?”

My mother pats the chair opposite herself. “Sit down, Annalise. You’re being rude to our guest.”

I turn my attention to the young brunette. She’s poised and polished, wearing a strapless, flamingo-pink, knee length dress.

Scarlet is absorbed in her phone. But at the word ‘guest,’ she looks up at me with a diplomatic smile.

“Scarlet Espinoza,” she says. She extends a hand to me, showing off a fluorescent pink manicure. I shake it, uncertain of who this person is. “Matchmaker. My motto isMaking Matches, Creating Magic.”

She waves her hand in a flourish, smiling.

“I’m sorry. Why are you here, exactly?”

Scarlet’s smile falters. She looks at my mom for help. “I can come back at another time if you’d prefer?”

“No, no!” Mom says, squeezing Scarlet’s hand. She turns to me. “Darling, you know that Scarlet here is the best matchmaker in the country. She helps young people from good families find suitable matches. Isn’t that right, Scarlet?”

“Well…” Scarlet hesitates. “I have a knack for pairing up soulmates.”

“Soulmates who are wealthy enough to pay for your services.” I sit down primly, folding my hands in my lap. “I can’t imagine you would have great luck with people who aren’t looking for that connection.”

Scarlet smiles. “Women in my family have been matchmaking for a hundred years. It’s in my blood.Literally.”

She says the last bit as if it’s a joke and laughs at herself to boot. I stare at her, perplexed. Who is this crazy person that my mom brought into my house?

Mom cuts in. “Scarlet’s going to find you the perfect man."

"Mother, I already told you, I don't need that," I try to protest.

But Scarlet interrupts me with a dismissive wave. "Annalise, listen. I know what you want in a partner." She looks dead into my eyes. "You're a strong, independent woman. You’re not just a pretty face. And you’re not looking for the first rich guy you see. Otherwise, you would have found Mr. Right already." She tilts her head. “Am I getting warm?”

“Well… I– I–” I stammer. My mind flashes back to what Nate just told me on the drive over here.You’re just a piece of ass. My face contorts. “I guess…”

Scarlet reaches out to me and touches my hand with gentle fingers. “Let me walk you through my process. Maybe show you some photos of potential matches. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I promise.”

I throw up my hands. "Fine," I say. "If it will get you both off my back, I’ll look at some pictures."

“It’ll be painless. I promise.” Scarlet begins to talk brightly about how her service works.

I lose interest after a few moments and look at my mom, who is gazing at Scarlet like she’s got the solution to end world hunger.

Serious eye roll.

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