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Her gaze volleys between the envelope and my face. I know she’s as curious about what’s inside as I am. “I’ll guess I’ll go back to my desk.”
Motioning toward my office door, I toss her a sugary sweet smile. “Can you close the door on your way out? I don’t want to be interrupted during my calls.”
“Will do,” she says with a smile. “If I don’t see you before I head home, have a great one.”
“You too,” I call after her.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I rip open the envelope to find a white card.
My eyes scan the note that appears to be written by the same person who jotted my name down on the envelope.
You are cordially invited to the soft launch of Lise.
Tonight at 8.
I flip the card over to see an address in Greenwich Village.
I open the browser on my laptop and type Lise and the address into the search engine. The results are varied, but not one is a clue to the invitation.
I delete Lise and call up a search for the address.
It traces back to a hair salon that closed down months ago.
I know too many people in this city to ignore this. The owner of whatever Lise is might be the family member of an investor or the close friend of one of the contractors I’ve worked with.
Connections are crucial in my world.
Even though I’m tempted to invite Vivi to tag along, I won’t. Knowing my sister, we’d attend this soft launch and then end up hanging out until the wee hours of the morning.
If I’m going to Greenwich Village, I want to do it on my terms.
I’ll show up, solve the riddle of why I was invited, and then go home.
With luck on my side, I’ll still make it to bed before the clock strikes midnight.
Chapter 22
Bianca
Choosing an outfit for tonight was easy. I went with the staple that has never let me down. It’s a little black dress with an empire waist and pearl beading around the collar.
It’s another gift from my mom. I gave up asking her to stop buying me things when she broke down in tears one afternoon. I had called her to explain that while I appreciated all the lavish gifts, it wasn’t necessary.
I made that call while I was holding an expensive diamond-encrusted watch in my hand. She had it delivered to my apartment on a Saturday. My birthday wasn’t around the corner, and the holidays were months away.
It was another one of her ‘ just because ’ presents. Over time, I’ve come to understand that the gifts are her way of expressing her love. I’d much rather have the frequent tight hugs she used to give or the kisses on the forehead, but those are a thing of the distant past now.
I slipped my feet into a pair of black heels and finished the outfit off with a simple gold bracelet and earrings.
I ran a brush through my hair after I had a quick shower, so it’s holding the natural wave that I loathed when I was a kid. I don’t mind it nearly as much now.
Since his phone distracted the Uber driver, I asked him to drop me a block away from my destination after he took a wrong turn. It would have taken longer for him to circle back around than for me to walk to Lise.
Holding tightly to the mysterious invitation, I round the block on my approach to the address.
People mill about outside what looks like a bodega, and once I’m past them, I have a clear view of the place I’m headed to.
There’s no sign on the front suggesting that the place is called Lise .
The awning that hangs over the door is green and white striped with a torn corner. Dark curtains shield the space from the sidewalk, so I can’t peek inside. I try the door handle, but it’s locked.
I turn the invitation in my hand over again to double-check the address, but I’m in the right spot.
This was either sent from the future, or someone is playing a prank on me.
“Dammit,” I whisper to myself.
I could have been at home in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top stuffing my face with a sandwich washed down with a soda.
Just as I’m about to turn and walk away, the door flies open.
A pretty brown-haired woman wearing a dark T-shirt, faded jeans, and a navy blue apron smiles at me. “You must be Bianca.”
I nod. “That’s me.”
Smoothing her hand over her ponytail, she sighs. “I’m Annalise. Annalise Brookings. Welcome to what will soon be Lise.”
With a wide arc of her hand in the air, she gestures for me to walk through the doorway.
I do.
What greets me is entirely unexpected.
It looks like a bistro with exposed brick lining the walls. Assorted plants are hanging from above. The lighting is elegant, and the floors are polished concrete. I spot a kitchen near the back of the space. The smells emanating from it are incredible.
