"No interviewing them for an expose on venture capitalists," I whisper. "I remember."
He grins at me. "Right."
"Let's do this." I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him. His free hand drifts to my hip and pulls me closer. It's a delicious kiss, comforting and deep, and I don't want to let go when the elevator doors open.
Someone clears a throat.
Carter lifts his head from mine and chuckles. "Hey, man. Thanks for having us."
"Glad you're making yourself comfortable," a man drawls. He's standing in a beautifully decorated hallway, navy slacks and a deep-blue shirt on with the shirtsleeves rolled up. He looks a few years older than Carter, with laugh lines fanning out by his eyes.
The elevator opened straight into this man's apartment… and not in a hallway.
My cheeks flare with heat. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for. I'm Tristan." He extends a hand, a smile softening his features.
"Audrey," I say, and shake his hand.
"A pleasure. Come in, both of you. Carter, you know where the wine is."
"I'll grab a glass for us both," Carter says. "You're in the living room?"
Carter moves through the place like he knows it, pouring us a glass each. The sound of laughter draws us through the space, beneath ceilings with crown molding and art on the walls. The view from the living room stops me in my tracks.
It's Central Park, and on the other side, the Upper East Side.
It's breathtaking.
"Nice, huh?" Carter says at my side.
I nod. "Uh-huh."
He nudges me forward to the group of people sitting around a designer coffee table. Behind them is an entire wall of framed black and white photos.
"Hey," Carter says. "Room for two more?"
"Of course," a woman says. Her hair is the color of wheat, and she smiles at me as she moves to the side. "Have a seat."
They all introduce themselves, with Summer being the smiling blonde. Next to her is a dark-haired man named Anthony, who gives me a firm handshake and looks at me for a long time. Tristan's wife is named Frederica, a diminutive woman with long, luscious black hair and clever eyes. She looks between me and Carter like she's analyzing us. I like her immediately.
The last two arrive about half an hour after us, putting a halt to the pleasant small talk. The dark-blond man keeps his suit jacket on, and he gives everyone a curt nod hello. The woman at his side smiles wide. "Hi! Sorry we're late!"
"Another fifteen minutes and we'd have put out a missing person's ad," Carter says.
The newcomers are Victor and Cecilia, and with them, all guests have arrived. There's obvious familiarity, more in the way of friends than just business partners. Summer and Cecilia pull me into a discussion of running, a pastime I've never enjoyed, and I learn they run in the park a few times a week.
"Join us," Cecilia says. "We usually run in the mornings."
I think of my apartment in Queens, the subway ride, my job. "Thank you," I say, smiling. "Maybe one day."
Carter sits next to me, and when we move to the dinner table, he takes the seat by my side. It's a comfort to have him here, even when he's engaged in a discussion with Victor about the merits of a new pharmaceutical company Tristan's considering.
His hand finds my leg beneath the table and squeezes softly. I smooth my hand over his in quiet reply. All good.
Halfway through dinner, Tristan makes a toast. He thanks us all for being here. "And thank you, Carter, for finally bringing along a date. Audrey, you're very welcome here."
"Thank you," I say, conscious of the eyes turning my way. Finally? The conversation doesn't drift away from that topic, either. Freddie asks how we met.
I cut through the asparagus on my plate to avoid the curious looks. "Well, I was about to go on a blind date… and I was a bit nervous."
"She came to the bar for a glass of water," Carter says. "I tried to steady her nerves."
"Drove me half-insane, was more like it."
"Settled the nerves, though," he says.
I laugh. "Yes. Definitely. He promised to help me escape, too, in case the date was bad. Which it was."
"Terrible," Carter says with emphasis, draping an arm around the back of my chair. "I could see from the bar how awful it was. So she took me up on the offer halfway through."
Summer looks delighted across the table. "Really?"
"Yes. I came over and told her to come right away. Her mother needed her. There wasn't much time left."
"That's diabolical," Victor says. He sounds pleased.
I shrug. "It worked, at any rate. I would have felt worse if the man I was on a date with wasn't being so rude."
"So you stole someone else's date," Tristan says, eyes on Carter. "I don't know if I'm impressed or horrified."
"Saved," I say, correcting him with a smile. "Not stole. Thanks for getting me out of there, Carter."
He smiles down at me. "My pleasure, spitfire."
The conversation flows smoothly from there, just like it does with people who know each other well and meet often. They discuss business meetings, trips, and conferences before jumping effortlessly to the topic of Victor and Cecilia's vow renewal. They'd only been married a year, but from what I gather, their first wedding had been a quick City Hall affair.
"Do you have everything prepared?" Freddie asks the pair. They're beautiful together, the put-together brunette and Victor's stoicism.
"I think we do," Cecilia says. "It'll be small, with just a few friends and family. Great food and music."
"Great guests," Carter deadpans.
Cecilia grins. "Oh, the absolute best. You're more than welcome to come too, Audrey."
"Thank you, that's really kind," I say, and I mean it. The flow of conversation is fun to listen to, and only occasionally terrifying, as when Summer and Anthony mention their Montauk beach house. I can't imagine the dizzying wealth some of these people have. Not to mention that Acture Capital, the owners of the newspaper I work at and arbiter of its fate, are all seated around the same dinner table. With me.
It's heady stuff. It makes me feel like an investigative reporter, and at the same time, an insider. I'll never use what I hear here, but… wow. Pinch me.