Innocent in New York
Read Innocent in New York Online
Authors: Victoria Sterling
CONTENTS
Copyright © 2016
by Victoria Sterling
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Editing by Silvia's Reading Corner
Cover art by Victoria Sterling
WELCOME TO THE MASQUERADE
A long red carpet stretched down the sidewalk, set with through the gates with flickering flames alongside it. Black lanterns hung from drooping tree branches alongside, warming the October night and giving a small shelter from the traffic and life of New York. The air stung like shards of glass and Sophia quickened her pace to get inside.
"Come on, Agnes." She looked over her shoulder, finding her friend had stopped to peer at the decorated trees. When she reached Sophia, they both hurried inside the building.
"Sophia Campbell." The guard flicked a finger over his tablet. He frowned and looked up from the device at her. "Are you sure you're supposed to here?"
No, she just randomly put on a gothic getup and a masquerade mask to stroll about New York! Sophia glanced at the people who had gathered behind them, hearing murmurs of impatience. "Yes." Her voice came out an octave too loud. "I'm certain. Please, check again."
The guard sighed, fished out his phone, and dialed a number. "Jake, can you check if you've sent me the final guest list? I'm missing a Sophia Campbell and Agnes Davies."
Originally, Chris, their boss had meant to go, but when something came up at the last moment, he sent them instead. He was the owner of Herrera's Palace, the hotel they worked for, and for a year now he had planned to use it as a platform for something bigger, something he'd only bothered telling Sophia a while ago. He needed a few more financial bankers, and one of those people would be attending the party she tried to get into.
It was way out of her job description. Her job was hosting conferences for wealthy New Yorkers or travelers, and to cater to influential guests were catered to. Ensuring team players for Chris's project didn't fall into that category. She lacked the information to sell the idea, but Chris had been persistent, and here they were.
The guard smiled and ended the call. "We're sorry, ladies," he said, and she held her breath, imagining having to turn and pass all those posh people gathered behind her, "there was a mistake with the latest update of the list. Sophia and Agnes, you two are on it."
Thank God.
"Welcome." He stepped aside.
"Thank you." She smiled at the man and they both hurried past him.
She brushed her hands down her dress to tame the puff of the skirt. A man, dressed in a dark suit and wearing a simple black mask that only framed his eyes, greeted them.
Welcome,
his smile said
.
Sophia returned the smile and they brushed past him. Beneath the flow of violins and flutes, an ocean of murmurs and praise awaited. People were definitely having a good time, chatting, laughing, and drinking their fine wines.
"They're so fancy," Agnes said, and Sophia could only nod in agreement. "Remember, Soph, this might be the only time we're sent to something like this. Try to enjoy it a little, huh?"
"I will, but I want to find Mr. Edwards first."
"We'll split up. If I find him, I'll call you."
"You know what he looks like, right?"
"Yup."
"Good luck!" Sophia watched the brunette disappear into the crowd, mixing in with her fantastic layered black dress.
She accepted champagne from a waiter passing by, and Sophia let the coolness of it spill over her tongue. Drawn back to the crowded room, she set her gaze on the guests. Where was her target? Nearly everyone had dressed in black suits and dark gowns, with the occasional color burst. Needing a boost, she offered her champagne some attention again. She weaved through people, all with masks shielding their faces. Sophia's own mask sat comfortably, secured by a silky ribbon around the back. It held details of glitters as well as feathers on one side, which mingled with the contrast of her blonde, upswept hair. The dress Agnes picked out for her was black and lacy, reaching mid-thigh with a tight fit across her upper body. The skirt fanned out for a more dramatic effect with a combination of various lengths of lace and tulle, and insertions of sequins creating a play of textures.
The disguise had been the selling point to get her to go to this thing at all; she'd be able to blend in. Right now, she was one of them, one of the elite. Her eyes flitted from one guest to the other. A man in a beaked mask and tailored suit turned his shadowed gaze on her, and lifted a corner of his lips. Sophia offered a shy smile and continued on her path. A woman in a crimson dress laughed loudly at something a younger man said. Sophia's gaze brushed over the men; a short, bald man with a top hat and a tiny mask framing his small eyes stood next to a tall young man with a wide smile beneath the rim of his gray mask — none of which she was seeking.
Where are you?
"
Think
Sophia," she whispered over the rim of her glass. Earlier, minutes before she dashed out of the hotel after work, Chris showed her images of Mr. Edwards. In his mid-forties, he had had light brown hair and a slinky build. He loved Italian shoes and Ferraris. If only he'd bring a Ferrari into the building, he'd be easy to locate! He also liked younger women preferably half his age. Sophia met a man with an arm around a tall twenty-year-old's waist. This could take a while.
Despite her fitting, dramatic dress, she didn't belong there; the complete opposite of these fine guests. She only made eye contact when necessary to seek Mr. Edwards. Sophia checked her small purse to make sure she had the envelope with the papers Chris gave her. She wanted this to be quick and painless. She ventured closer to the stage where a tall woman wearing a skintight dress appeared.
She wore black from top to bottom, with a thin veil cascading from her hips with peacock-feathered print on it. She walked up to a microphone as a low hum from violins began, and then she looked at the masked guests, just before a deep voice spilled from her lips.
Sophia awed at her for a moment, not expecting such a rich sound. The guests took a break from their chatting to listen, and she took the chance to watch people more closely. She shook her head, seeing mask after mask throughout the room, and they turned into a blur. She'd never find him. She needed something to get his attention; something to help her find a needle in a haystack; something like… Sophia's head jerked toward the singer, swaying about with her microphone. She finished her drink, darted to the side of the stage, and waited for the song to ebb out. She drew her phone out of her purse and turned it on. A glass of ice water sat close to where Sophia stood, and she waited for the woman to stroll over to it in-between songs.
"I hate doing this," she said with a wince, "but I'm forced to. I'm Greg Edwards' assistant, and I have a
very
important client on the phone. I can't find him anywhere, and if I don't get ahold of him I'm at risk of losing my job. Could you please ask him if he could move to the bar for an important call?"
The singer frowned, tapping her index finger against her glass.
"
Please,
"
Sophia begged, clutching her phone in both hands in front of her.
The lady finally caved. "Fine, I'll notify him. Greg Edwards was it?"
"Yes!" Sophia beamed. "Thank you so much. You're an amazing singer!"
The singer smiled and winked, and when she moved toward the microphone stand again, Sophia made her way through the guests toward the bar. Blood rushing in her ears, her head swiveled this way and that, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She decided to stand by the bar, giving her a better view. Sophia pushed up on her tiptoes, seeing a masked man trudge past people closest to the bar. He walked up to the bartender, said a few words and the bartender shrugged. The man looked annoyed, and Sophia swooped in before he yelled at the bartender.
"Mr. Edwards?"
So we finally meet.
He turned, gray eyes scanning her. "Do I know you?"
"I'm Sophia Campbell. I work at Herrera's Palace for Chris Lewis. I've come to—"
"— Chris. That man never stops, does he? This is about his new hotel?"
"Chris is hardheaded, and trust me," Sophia gave a small laugh, "I know firsthand. You're a difficult person to get ahold of Mr. Edwards, but Chris found a way. He knows you're the perfect man for this, and with Herrera's rising success you have a great opportunity to take part of a new era of hotels. Chris has all the qualifications to make this happen, but he also needs trust."
Mr. Edwards gave her a long hard look, and she knew he could go either way with this. Sophia appeared calm, the way she always did when it came to work. A shifting glance or a twitch in her stance would be enough to show weakness, and among tycoons and leaders, weakness was something she couldn't afford to show.
She took a step closer, holding his gaze. "Mr. Edwards," she pushed the envelope into his hand, "you have nothing to lose reading this. It might just be enlightening."
With a small twitch of his lips that spoke of a smile, he glanced down at the envelope. "You're brave, Miss Campbell." He folded the envelope and slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Sophia kept her calm and didn't punch the air.
"You won't regret it."
When he nodded she bid farewell and wished him a pleasant evening. She moved through the masked groups of people until she was sure she was in the clear and let out a breath. While not a promise of success, she'd succeeded in making him interested. After texting Agnes, she accepted a glass of white wine from a server passing by, and brought it with her on a tour around the grand place. Sky-high columns inspired by Greek architecture connected floor with ceiling. A man in a gray suit leaned against one, while a woman smiled up at him from behind her Venetian mask.
Maybe they don't know each other
, Sophia mused, walking past them.
Or maybe they do but they don't know it yet
.
She took a small sip from her sparkling wine, holding it on her tongue for a moment to soak up the fruity taste, the nuances of grapefruit before the coolness slid down her throat. The effect, almost immediate, made the back of her head buzz. After a long workday, she didn't need much to feel the effect of alcohol.
She brushed arms with a tall stranger with icy blue eyes peering back at her, and his interest moved to her in an instant. She smiled, liking the anonymity the place required, and then she disappeared behind another cluster of people. Another sip of wine — another masked stranger before her with a lure of a smile.
"Dance with me." A man caught her arm as she swooped past.
"Next time." She freed her arm and held his gaze for a moment more while she walked. The man grinned and turned his attention back to his group.
In the middle of the room, a huge chandelier hung, bathing the guests in golden light. She noticed a set of stairs further back, and knew it led to the second floor to a popular segment of Irony. She had been to Irony a few times, but only the part open for the public, located on the first floor on the other side of the building. She wondered if Agnes had snuck upstairs already; she'd always wanted to go there.
She caught a rustle close by, and gasps from people. "Look out!"
She realized too late the warning had been directed at her. A swift movement from the corner of her eye startled her, and a rough shoulder collided with hers, sending her pivoting backward. She gasped, unable to keep her footing, and the floor disappeared beneath her. She closed her eyes and braced herself — except the impact didn't hit.
Had she sprouted wings?
She cracked open an eye. A man leaned over her, strong arms supporting her weight. Sophia heard the gasps from masked people all around, but her focus zeroed in on the dark-haired stranger holding her. She blinked, staring into his strict face gazing down at her, at the deep swirls of browns in his irises, darkened by the shadows cast by the mask he wore. His jaw flexed and she bit back the sudden urge to reach up and touch him. She sucked in a breath of air to starving lungs.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice a low tone that made her tremble. He drew her up and she clutched his shoulders to regain balance, feeling the hard muscles through his jacket. He smiled, and her heart skittered.
No, definitely not. He'd erased the horror of falling with something else — something she couldn't quite grasp. "Yes, I think so." Her chest heaved.
"I didn't reach you in time to stop him." He frowned, dark brown eyes peering.
All of her focus was on his hand on her waist.
"No." She licked her lips. "You reached me. Thank you." His fingers twitched, sinking into her skin, sending small fractures of buzzing electricity digging deeper into her, making her blood pulse in response.
Murmurs reached her, and she tore her eyes from his, noticing the guests watching them. Sophia blushed, and moved away from her savior. Coldness replaced the warmth he'd awoke.
The gentleman's eyes flickered to the onlookers. He didn't seem to care much, and his gaze trained on her again. He parted his lips to say something when a giggle made him jerk his head to the side.
"There you are, James!" A tall, slim brunette in a skintight golden dress stopped and curled an arm over his shoulders. "My hero." She kissed his cheek, and it surprised Sophia when an edge of annoyance struck him.