The Boy That Broke America

0.8

                 

0.8

                  AS SOON AS Lane stepped into the chequered-floored lobby of 1136 Fifth Avenue, she breathed a sigh of relief. With the doors firmly closed behind her, at least until the next guest of the Ivanov's entered the building, she could remain pretty confident that her private life would remain private for the time being.

"All good?" Ivor raised his eyebrows with the question.

Lane exhaled heavily again, "Yep. Let's go." And they stepped into the elevator that would deliver them to the Ivanov's penthouse.

"Okay, so Bill de Blasio, the mayor of New York, will be here tonight with his wife, Chirlane, and his kids. There'll be a heap of the Ivy League Presidents too, but I'll just give you their names as we go along. Hopefully we'll be able to escape towards the end." Lane quickly explained to Ivor as the elevator rose up through the building, despite his overwhelmed expression. "You'll be fine." She hurriedly added on as they drew to a smooth stop, "Just smile and go with it."

Lane stretched her lips into a well-practiced smile as the elevator doors slid open and she glided over the threshold of the Ivanov's grand penthouse. She slipped off her coat and gratefully handed it to the coat check, in return for her token.

As she waited for Ivor to do the same, she smoothed her dress and did a quick sweep of the penthouse entryway to see who was there. She recognised a few familiar faces, but no one she deemed particularly important.

Lane felt Ivor move up behind her, and she looked over her shoulder and smiled encouragingly, waiting until he nodded in grave determination as a signal to continue.

She turned back again as Ivor stepped up beside her and offered her his arm, which she took as they made their way through to the living room, smiling politely as they passed the few people gathered in the entryway.

Lane spotted Marcy chatting politely to Joan Wickersham in one corner of the room, and Flynn locked in an intense-looking discussion with Leonardo Riggio and a few other men she vaguely recognised.

She was searching for other friendly faces when someone snaked their arms around her waist from behind. She turned, laughing, to face Carson.

"Hello lover," she chuckled as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Hey darlin'," He joked back, pulling away to bring Ivor into the small group, "How are y'all going?"

"Pretty good," Lane said, eyes sweeping the room, "We just got here, so there hasn't been much opportunity for disaster yet. That is, unless you count the press downstairs."

Carson frowned, "What press?"

"Uh...the press that practically mobbed us in the few metres between our car and the front door?" Lane mimicked Carson's frown.

"Damn. Flynn specifically told the security detail to keep them out of your way. He knew they'd make a fuss when you showed up with Ivor, and he figured you didn't want your picture splashed across Page Six tomorrow morning."

"Well, he got that right." Lane rolled her eyes, "The security probably took off with the tip, knowing the people around here."

Carson snorted in agreement, "You're probably right. Anyway, Nora and Marcy sent me to find you just before you arrived – they wanted me to let you know they were thinking we could hang out after this. Dunno what they had in mind, but I think Nora mentioned something about getting wasted. Marcy said you guys are welcome to crash here tonight too."

Lane turned to Ivor and raised her eyebrows in question, to which he responded with a brief nod.

She spun back to Carson and one side of her mouth twisted up into a half-smirk, "We're in. Did you have anywhere particular in mind we could go?"