666 Park Avenue by Gabriella Pierce

Author:Gabriella Pierce
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2011-09-01T02:46:47+00:00

Chapter Twenty-five

Under Lynne’s watchful eye, Jane gritted her teeth and chatted with Ben Jameson (the up-and-coming state senator), Sandy Kovanski (the new Times’ food critic), and his wife, Bethany (who was from one of the oldest families in New York). During Samuel Robero, Esquire’s, seemingly endless description of pending legislation to allow for prosecuting corporate whistle-blowers, Jane thought that she glimpsed Maeve outside in the sculpture garden. But the door felt impossibly far away, especially with Lynne at her side, apparently hell-bent on dragging out each conversation for as long as humanly possible before steering Jane toward the next one.

Lynne had had a point at that first lunch, Jane realized: being a Doran was downright exhausting. She could already feel that she would wake up drained and empty the next morning; an afternoon of calling caterers for April’s ASPCA-looza would be about all she could handle. However irritated she was at Lynne, Jane was forced to grudgingly admire the woman. She took her role as matriarch incredibly seriously, and watching her face round after round of inane socializing with unflagging intensity was kind of impressive.

Finally, while Kathleen Houck (heiress to a pharmaceutical fortune) was happily comparing the merits of various hybrid car models, Jane felt Lynne draw silently away from their little circle. I guess she thinks I finally have the hang of it? But Jane had no interest in continuing her slow circuit of the room. She counted to twenty in her head, and then excused herself: it was long past time to find Maeve.

Jane had accumulated so many questions during her three weeks in New York that she wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting to hear. The night, the Dorans themselves, was like a strange scattering of puzzle pieces, and she had a feeling that Maeve could make sense of the larger picture.

She headed purposefully to the sculpture garden, but the fierce crop of red curls was conspicuously absent from the clusters of guests scattered around. Jane began to work her way systematically back around the room, but the closest thing she found to Maeve was Harris. It’s a start, she decided, and had begun to stride toward him when she spotted Maeve at last, walking smoothly out through the front door.

So I didn’t get an explanation, and now I don’t even get a good-bye? Jane frowned, stung. Maeve’s retreating form looked frail and fragile in her emerald-green cocktail dress. Watching her elfin frame, Jane realized abruptly that Maeve hadn’t just skipped her good-byes: she had also bypassed the coat check. Unseasonably warm or not, it was still near eleven o’clock in January, and Maeve would freeze with nothing between her and the cold but a thin layer of charmeuse.

“Maeve, wait!” Jane hurried for the door, accidentally bumping into someone’s rum-and-Coke along the way. She heard an exclamation as the dark liquid spilled in her wake, but she barely registered the commotion. The short hallway that separated the door from the lobby was empty and dark, but Jane caught sight of Maeve as she drifted outside.

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