AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s you, sir,” the taxi driver announces.
Sir.After my bizarre exchange with Arsène, I went and grabbed some clothes from a pile of extras for a Victorian-era musical. I’m wearing an ivory cotton shirt, a double-breasted vest, a dinner jacket, and some slacks. My hair is stuffed inside a brown newsboy’s hat, concealed from view. I’m pretty sure I look like Oliver Twist.
I push the taxi door open and take the steps to the building two at a time. I don’t have Arsène’s number, so I have no idea if he is already inside or not. When I reach the large black door, I see a golden label on it.
THENEWAMSTERDAM.
A GENTLEMEN’SCLUB.
MEMBERS ONLY.
I had no idea gentlemen’s clubs still existed. I raise my fist, about to knock on the door, when a voice behind me booms.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I turn around, and of course, it is Arsène, who is in the habit of materializing out of thin air like a demon, narrating my every move. Out here, in the concrete jungle of Manhattan, in broad, natural daylight, I am forced to see that he is not only a man, but a striking one at that. His thick, jet-black hair; square jaw; prominent chin; and high cheekbones give him the appeal of an old-era gentleman.
“That’s a peculiar look, Bumpkin.” His pleased voice is oddly addictive. I wonder if he’s moved on from Grace yet. If he is seeing someone else. Somehow, I think not. Arsène is the kind of man to have a very particular taste.
“You said to dress like a man.” I scowl.
“One born in this century.”
“Sorry, we ran out of hipster Brooklyn men with plaid shirts, waxed beards, and Warby Parker glasses,” I bite out.
He shoulders past me to punch in a secret code into the electric lock of the door. “You do amuse me, Winnifred. You haven’t surrendered your odd individuality in order to fit in just yet. This uninhibited, innocent vibe? It’s growing on me.”
“I’m sure there was a compliment under all that patronizing mumbo jumbo, but if it’s okay, I’d like to keep things between us professional.” I step away from him, just to prove to myself that I’m not flattered. And really, I’m not.
“Well, it’s time to put your acting skills to good use, because if they find out you’re a woman, there’s a teeny, tiny chance you’ll get arrested for trespassing.”
“Excuse me?” I thunder, finding myself yet again riled up by this impossible man. “What on earth were you—”
He nudges the door open with his shoulder and gives me a light shove inside. I’m thrust into the situation. It’s a vast hallway, all limestone pillars and columns and rich beige carpets. Men in suits and expensive golf wear pass us by. Some of them nod in acknowledgment to Arsène. Everyone looks like variations of Paul’s Wall Street friends.
I follow Arsène’s brisk steps, trying to rein in my panic.
Sweat gathers under my armpits and on the back of my neck.
“What if I get caught?” I whisper-shout to him.
“Just say you’re Jupiter.”
“Jupiter?” I ask, confused.
“That you’re the cleaner. You know that Jupiter vacuums and absorbs comets and meteors? One estimate I read suggests if Jupiter didn’t suck objects into its sphere, the number of massive projectiles hitting the Earth would be ten thousand times greater.”
“That is ... good to know.”
Arsène approaches a vast reception area.
“Cory, I need a private space for my nephew and me. What’s available?” He snaps his fingers to the man behind the reception desk.
“Mr.Corbin.” Cory smiles, typing on his keyboard. “I didn’t know you had any nephews. Is he from around here?”
“The sticks.” Arsène waves a hand. “It’s his first time in New York. He’s a little starstruck.”
He’s about to strike you in the back if you’re not careful.
