Maelstrom

Chapter 39: Part of Your World

The ride in Ivan's town car seemed far too short. Immediately upon settling into the plush back seat, I had picked up our game from the café, asking him about childhood pets. After several stories from each of us about various beloved shepherds, spaniels, and a particularly affectionate and devoted Rottweiler named Rosie, the car stopped, and Marshall rapped on the glass separating the front seat from the back.

"Duty calls," Ivan sighed as a doorman opened the car. He unfolded himself gracefully onto the sidewalk and held out a hand to help me. That hand plus years of practice were the only things that allowed me to get out of the limo without tangling my feet in my cape or revealing a lot more than a pair of shapely legs. Damn, this dress was short, I cursed silently. I nodded to the doorman and realized that I recognized the uniform. A quick look confirmed that the "special event" was at the Ritz-Carlton Central Park.

"And exactly what kind of 'duty' is calling you here?" I asked quietly enough that only Ivan would hear. I tucked my hand in the crook of his proffered arm without conscious thought; my mind was racing. This was a far cry from West Harlem and the Meatpacking District, the cornerstones of Lex's fabricated life; in fact, it was smack in the middle of the neighborhoods and venues where Lärke had spent much of her adolescent and adult life.

"The kind that usually brings people to parties in places such as this," he answered in a low murmur. "Networking."

I looked at him in surprise; he wasn't kidding. "I don't think I'm going to be very good at small-talking the kind of crowd that's likely to be here," I demurred as we walked into the marble-floored lobby.

"I'm not worried," he said. "However, you are wearing entirely too much clothing for this." He steered me to a coat check room where we could leave my cape and pocketed the claim ticket.

"Besides," he said, offering his arm again, "I'm only here to make one particular connection; once that's taken care of, we can leave as soon as you give the word."

A security team at the bottom of the stairs stopped us only long enough to request our invitation and wave metal-detecting wands over our bodies. No one bothered checking my tiny clutch. Sloppy, I thought; I could think of at least half a dozen non-metallic items that anyone seriously into security definitely should not allow me to walk in with that would fit in a handbag of this size, and that was just off the top of my head.

The party apparently took up the entire mezzanine level, and I could see that it was already filled with well-heeled members of the city's elite. What was this function for? I cast my eyes about the room, my anxiety increasing by the minute. Though in the past couple of years I had assiduously and – in Mormor's opinion – reprehensibly avoided almost every society event I was expected to attend as a Hellström, I had shown up to the occasional party or benefit for what I considered particularly good causes, or if one of my second-cousins, Sibbe or Ulrike, was the force behind the event. Though unlikely, it was not impossible that someone here could recognize me as Lärke Hellström. My brain firmly refused to consider the ramifications of that revelation. Perhaps a self-conscious "You must have mistaken me for someone else" would work. Perhaps.

"What's wrong?" Ivan asked. He accepted two flutes of champagne from a waitress who had practically pounced on us when we entered the room. I took a glass from him with numb fingers and continued to scan the room for potential threats. He clinked my glass to recapture my attention and took a sip; I followed suit, though I made a mental note that I absolutely, positively, could not get drunk at this little soiree.

"What is this a party for?" I finally asked. "I've not seen a single helpful banner or oversized cake that might give me some hint, so you'll have to just tell me."

Ivan smiled. "Nothing entertaining enough to warrant a giant cake, I'm afraid. It's a political fundraiser for someone who will almost certainly be running against the mayor in the next election."