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39: Invested
Evelyn stood in Andrew’s office, listening to his side of a phone conversation with the NYWFC accountants. Watching as he jotted notes—the answers to his terse questions—and made lightning quick calculations in his head with an upward flick of his mutable eyes, she wrapped one arm about her middle and worried her thumbnail between her front teeth.
“How many?” Andrew demanded in an ominous monotone, scratching the number on a calculation-obscured notepad before him. “You’re certain that’s the final number? Go on.”
Against his light gray suit, his eyes flashed more green than blue, the annoyed scowl deepening around them the longer the conversation went on, the longer the rows of figures became. More than a week later, final tallies for the King and Queen of England’s visit to the Fair were available at long last and based on the way he’d pressed his fine lips into a tight line, Evelyn doubted it was good. He’d be i
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World of Tomorrow 40: Subterfuge
Abandoned, Evelyn tread the path to the subway moodily and even more quickly than she did normally with Lily—she hated to ride the subway alone. So much so in fact that she’d plan to walk rather than take it when she knew she’d have no other option besides go alone. What’s more, in the sweltering summer heat made worse by an uncharacteristic and lingering heatwave, it was miserable as well as somewhat frightening and disheartening—hot, sticky, the air close and heavy and reeking of the discomfort of all the overwarm bodies pressed together inside it. Boarding the train, she took a handloop as she and Lily usually did, flinching and turning the opposite direction when another passenger lifted his arm for the loop next to hers, and the pungent scent of him diffused into the air near her face. Around her, the train surged forward, the noisy rhythmic clacking along the tracks and the stifling temperature lulling her into drowsiness.
World of Tomorrow 41: Star-spangled
“No.” Andrew’s jaw was set firmly and his tone brooked no argument. Yet argue was exactly what Madame Moreau did. “Mr. James, this is not merely a dress, this is art!” Madame, in her husky voice which, in combination with her French accent, already sounded more than a bit condescending to Evelyn, hissed back defiantly. “Then sell it to a museum. I am not paying for that,” Andrew bit out. Noting the hard glint in his changeable blue eyes, Evelyn sighed in relief. This return visit to Madame’s couture shop had been the worst yet. The dress she was modeling— a shoulder-less gown with an asymmetric fitted bodice and a skirt that draped from the waist into a flouncy full ruffle covered in a peacock feather pattern but with shockingly prominent frankly eerie eyes— was the culmination of it. The fact that it was also Schiaparelli’s signature design shade of ‘shocking pink’ nauseated her even more. Madame’s face screwed up into a tight unflattering pinch and yanking her glasses off her f
World of Tomorrow 42: Narrow Escapes
With the New York Times tucked under one arm and his hands in his pockets, Andrew hurried across the Trust’s lobby, whistling Where or When. It had played last night at some point when he and Evelyn had danced and had kept playing in his head until he’d woken this morning with the memory of her lips and skin and lissome body against him. When he rounded the corner into their thirty-eighth floor office, Andrew stood stock still, staring at the empty space behind her desk where Evelyn should be, then darted down the narrow hall to the kitchenette, disappointed to find it empty of all except a brewed pot of delightful smelling coffee. Sliding his tongue over his front teeth, wracking his brain for where she might be, he ambled slowly into his office then grinned. The sturdy coffee mug of clear pink glass he stubbornly refused to relinquish to Evelyn sat steaming its fragrant bouquet in the exact spot he liked it on h
World of Tomorrow 43: Challenges
Dear God, Evelyn thought trudging up the Trust’s stairs. Even this early in the day, the monotonous gray cement stairwell was blisteringly hot and stuffy, and her rising physical discomfort added to the intertwined panic and confusion clanging madly in her head. She wondered which one of them was lying about their identity— Edwardo Montero? Or Mrs. Stiles. Probably both, she thought contemptuously. No question about why Evelyn herself didn’t like either of them—why her stomach twisted into pretzel knots the instant either of them was around—and knowing they were together in whatever malign scheme they were hatching only made it worse. ‘We need to talk’, the sleazy detective had said menacingly. She doubted it. Yet the same instinct that made her insides wrench with anxiety upon seeing him, lit up her neural pathways like the Empire State building at night, anxious to hear what he had to say. Just not whil
World of Tomorrow 44: Conflict and Rewards
Andrew’s voice sounded raspy, doubtless from the argument with his mother, but still cultured, elegant and cool. Between the gravel in his voice and his disheveled appearance, his fine suit wrinkled as he sat cross-legged on the floor like one of the children, the exchange they were having seemed absurd, even bordering on surreal. Stripped of his polished veneer, he should have sounded fanatic. Instead, he sounded entirely sincere. Evelyn’s heart lurched and her eyes widened in shock, then the cold hard truth intruded again. She had to keep her defenses up—she was too big of a pushover to his charms otherwise, and all that had landed her was a broken heart. “You want what you can’t have, Andrew.” Cocking his head, he huffed a laugh and flashed her a megawatt smile. “That’s not how I imagined that going.” “Cinderella stories only work for real princesses.” He look
World of Tomorrow 45: Investigation
“What do you suppose he’s doing here?”Evelyn scarcely looked up at Lily’s question. Instead she gave a grateful sigh as they emerged from the revolving door, removing the handkerchief from her purse, and wiped her nose. “The same thing everyone else is—working or banking.”As they neared the elevators and the density of the crowd increased, Lily’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh, please. Did you even look up?”“I’m sorry. I didn’t, but I would hope you’d understand. I’m not exactly at my best right now.” She dabbed her nose again and folding the kerchief tightly around itself, tucked it back in her purse, glancing up startled when Lily’s hands closed on her upper arms.Her sky blue eyes were focused elsewhere. “He’s not banking, and I guarantee if he’s w
World of Tomorrow 45: Investigation
“What do you suppose he’s doing here?” Evelyn scarcely looked up at Lily’s question. Instead she gave a grateful sigh as they emerged from the revolving door. Removing the handkerchief from her purse, she wiped her nose. “The same thing everyone else is—working or banking.” As they neared the elevators and the density of the crowd increased, Lily’s curiosity was piqued. “Oh, please. Did you even look up?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t, but I would hope you’d understand. I’m not exactly at my best right now.” She dabbed her nose again and folding the kerchief tightly around itself, tucked it back in her purse. Glancing up, she startled when Lily’s hands closed on her upper arms. Her sky blue eyes were focused elsewhere. “He’s not banking, and I guarantee if he’s working, it’s not here.” Following Lily’s gaze, Evelyn studied the man in question bri
World of Tomorrow 46: Reactions
Andrew stood before the window in the private hospital room. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched the traffic flow below.A great deal weighed heavily on his mind, not least of which was his concern over Evelyn. She lay sleeping off the effects of the sedative the doctors had given her prior to her examination. He was still anxiously awaiting the report from the physician.Montero was dead.While he understood neither he nor Evelyn were under suspicion—in fact, the current most probable suspect by his best estimation was the remarkably unfortunate Mr. Aldrich, who was unlikely to ever resurface and provide any sort of accounting for himself or his actions. Had Andrew not been familiar with the kind of zealous violence favored in underworld thugs with ties to Tammany Hall, he might have felt bad for the luckless fellow.Almost.At present, he was more concerned with protecting his own.A soft rap at the door pulled him from his cycling thoughts. Spying the long white lab coat embroid
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