Terror (17 page)

“I know. And you haven't seen the half of it. It has so many rooms.” Liz's face suddenly brightened and she started waving. “Hold on a second….”

A man trotted toward them. Gaia watched as he and Liz engaged in an elaborate greeting ritual. First came little happy screeching sounds, then a barrage of kisses on both cheeks, followed by the simultaneous exchange of, “So great to see you!” Then Liz turned around and gestured behind her. “David, this is Gaia. Gaia, David. David's firm is the principal owner of Capitale.”

“Oh… it's beautiful,” Gaia said. She had a quick panic attack about what to do next. A hug seemed like a little much. The kiss-on-both-cheeks thing had never worked for her. So Gaia found herself extending her hand, at first like a man going in for a handshake. Sensing this wasn't quite right, she flipped her wrist so that her hand lay out there, limp wristed, her knuckles facing out.
Bingo.
This one was obviously in David's repertoire. He grabbed Gaia's hand delicately and bent down to kiss it. “The lovely Gaia,” he said. “A pleasure.”

When he stepped back, he was looking at Gaia in a way that made her want to squirm. “Well, I hope that you two ladies are ready to eat and drink… and to party, of course.”

“We sure are,” Liz said.

“Good. Because appetizers, champagne, and wine are circulating on this level, and entrées are being served downstairs in the basement dining rooms. There is a dessert room downstairs as well. There are also two dance floors—a mellow one with a jazz band playing just through this corridor ahead, as you can hear, and another one in the west banquet room, where Marc Ronson and Funkmaster Flex are spinning hip-hop.”

“Gorgeous, David,” Liz said. “We love your work.”

“Only the best for Dr. Rodke. Speaking of the man himself, I just saw him. He's just about fifty yards ahead of you, near the jazz band.”

“Of course,” Liz said.

“You two have a great time tonight,” David said as he walked away. “Nice to meet you, Gaia.”

“You too.”

“Celebrity alert,” Liz said, once David was out of earshot. “Robert De Niro, stage right.”

Gaia looked right. Sure enough, there he was. He was tanner than she'd expected and shorter, with a scraggly beard. But the face was unmistakable. At the moment he had it scrunched up in a sort of contented gnome's smile. Gaia instinctively wanted to keep her distance, having recently witnessed his potential for destruction.

“All right, here's the plan,” Liz said. “You have to pay before you play. So what we're gonna do is this.
We're going to put on our sophisticated smiley faces and go talk to Dad and all his big donor friends. Talk, talk, talk, blah, blah, blah…. Then we'll pretend we have to pee and go downstairs to get some chow in the basement dining rooms, and then we'll head up to the hip-hop party, where all the hot guys will be. Got it?”

Gaia shrugged. The only thing that sounded appealing was the food part. She was starving.

“Now, I know you don't drink much, but I strongly suggest you grab a glass of wine anyway.”

“Even if I don't want to drink?” Gaia asked.

“Yeah,” Liz answered. “A wineglass makes for a very useful prop during awkward and boring conversations. You can hide behind it.”

“I see,” Gaia said, stunned at how accustomed Liz was to this setting. “Good advice.”

Liz waved two fingers in the air and, as if they were a magic wand, a man in a tuxedo walked over, carrying a shiny metal plate. “Cabernet?” he offered.

“Two,” Liz said. She grabbed the glasses and handed one to Gaia. Liz raised her glass into toasting position. “Cheers,” she said.

“Cheers,” Gaia agreed.

They tapped glasses. Liz tilted the glass and drained half of it. So as not to be rude, Gaia took a sip of hers.

“All right. I hope you're ready,” Liz said. “Because we're going in.”

GAIA HUSTLED DOWN A LONG ELEVATED walkway, taking sips of wine and gawking at the sheer magnitude of the room. She had finally escaped the dining room, which had become synonymous with the dull drone of a thing called “Brett.” Brett was a slick-suited, middle-aged nob with a basketball-sized paunch, whose endless sales pitches amounted to one overarching, tedious message:
I've read too many personal motivation books.
Within minutes of meeting her, Brett had given Gaia his business card and a second personal contact card with his picture on it. He'd been writing down his room number at the Gramercy Park Hotel when Gaia had fled the scene. In her mad dash to get away from Brett, she'd misplaced Liz. She was following the increasingly loud thump of hip-hop music in the hopes that it would lead her to the west wing banquet room that Liz had been so psyched about.

Gaia entered the loud room. It was an inky black cube that, while smaller than the last room, still had a ceiling no less than thirty-five feet high.
Ow. Painfully loud.
She was tempted to cover her ears but knew that it would devastate her credibility, especially with this crowd.

From what Gaia could see, the room was divided into four different areas. Directly in front of her were the dancers—head-nodding to the heavy bass—who
formed a solid core and appeared to be the most populous group. Surrounding them on all sides, and a close second populationwise, were legions of people, mainly men, leaning against the wall, also nodding, sipping from bottles and looking around as if they were on a hunt so important, it rendered dancing frivolous. On the far wall was a bar, backlit in purple, around which stood hordes of people either grasping for drinks or having just received them. The smallest group was off to Gaia's right, at the back of the room. They were the DJs and their throng of admirers and hangers-on. Unsure of which group to join, Gaia chose the wall-leaners, who seemed to be, like her, trying to determine their next move.

But before she could reach the wall, a man approached. Perfectly good-looking guy, cute smile. He was talking. Gaia could see lips moving, but no sounds were making it through intact. “What did you say?” she screamed.

The lips were moving again. Gaia shrugged and laughed.
No clue.
She took a drink of wine. The man shrugged back.

“It's too loud!” Gaia yelled. “I can't understand you!”

The man looked confused. “What did you say?”

Gaia waved him away. “Forget it.” She was still laughing.
Nice talking to you, chief.
In order to make a clean break from the awkward fallout of that nonconversation, Gaia decided to join a new group—the
dancers. She took a few steps out to the edge of the dance floor and started swaying back and forth to the beat. She had never been much of a dancer, at least not in public. It had been a while since she'd danced in a place that wasn't her room. Gaia closed her eyes and tried to mimic the beat with her body. When she reopened them, she saw that some guy was about a foot away from her, giving her a big, smiley, I'm-your-dream-guy look.
Oh God. Here we go again.
But the girl dancing next to him looked familiar.
Liz? Liz!
Gaia jumped forward and hugged her. “Oh, man,” she said. “I'm so glad to see you!”

“Hey, Gaia!” Liz stepped to the side. “This is my other brother, Skyler.”

“Nice to meet you!” Gaia yelled over the music.

“You too, Gaia!”

She presented her hand, but Skyler took it and pulled her to him for the European-style kiss on both cheeks.
Mmm,
she thought.
He smells nice.
They let go and started dancing again, playing off each other's moves. Gaia couldn't understand how guys danced in suits—it looked so uncomfortable and sweaty. But somehow Skyler managed to look comfortable, with a constant smile and effortless moves as smooth as satin.

He grabbed his sister's hand and gave her a little twirl, then reached out for Gaia's hand.
Please, no,
she thought. Reluctantly she gave him her hand. One thing she definitely sucked at was pair dancing.
Please don't
twirl me.
But it was too late. Skyler grabbed her hand and lifted it over his head. She forced a smile to be polite and tried to do an appropriate little shuffle.
Tough to do a twirly dance to hip-hop music,
she thought. Probably noticing her hesitation, Skyler twirled her back across to the spot where she'd started and let go of her hand.
Phew. I'm off the hook.

Gaia checked out Liz. Her hands were balled into fists and she was doing some badass ghetto girl dance that Gaia figured she'd probably picked up from watching rap videos. But she was pretty rhythmic. For an aristocratic chick, she sure had moves.

The song phased out and a slinky R#B tune kicked in. Gaia looked over at Skyler, who was making some sort of gesture at her.

“What?” Gaia called back.

Skyler leaned toward her. He held on to Gaia's shoulder, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke. “You want to take a break?”

“Sure,” Gaia said.

Skyler whispered something to Liz, who was still flowing to the music. She shook her head, indicating she'd be staying right where she was. Gaia waved at her, and they left the room.

“So I assume you're the elder of the Rodke brothers,” Gaia said as they emerged in the bright, fresh air outside the sweatbox dance floor. “Where is Chris, by the way?”

“Oh, he's probably off in some remote corner
being Chris. Let's just say he's very different than I am.” As Skyler fanned at his face, Gaia tried to decipher what he meant by “off being Chris.” Whatever it was, it pretty clear that Skyler didn't approve. “Damn, I'm sweating like mad in this thing.” He undid the top button of his shirt and shook his tie loose.

“I wondered about that,” Gaia said. “If it's any consolation, my feet are killing me.”

Skyler was pulling on his collar and fanning himself. “You know, it's too bad that it's not socially accepted for men to wear dresses. They're so much more forgiving in the heat.”

Gaia laughed.
He's looking at my dress.
“I can't disagree.”

Just as Gaia began musing on how nicely the evening was going, she saw a man in a hooded sweatshirt, standing in the doorway to the banquet room.
The guy from the park. The one who attacked us.
Gaia felt her breath forcing its way through her nostrils.
He's looking over here.
She looked away, then back again.
What is he doing here?

“Are you all right, Gaia?” Skyler asked. He moved toward Gaia with a concerned expression. “You're looking a little pale.”

“Oh, I'm fine.….” Gaia wiped her brow. She was caught between wanting Skyler to protect her and feeling crowded by how close he was standing. For some reason, the hooded guy looked a hundred times
more terrifying within the odd confines of this swank party. It was as if he were some sort of evil specter haunting her. Her thoughts raced to Jake and the covenant she'd made to him about being safe. She had to get out of here. It was time to go. “I just have to go to the bathroom, that's all.”

“Me too” Skyler said. “I'll take you there. Let me just go tell Liz real qui—”

“Sorry, but I really have to go. Like, really, really. I'll see you, hopefully, in a little bit.”

Skyler shot her a strange look that had everything to do with her use of the word
hopefully.
“Are you sure? It'll just take a second.”

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Gaia said. “I've got a tiny bladder. I'll go ahead and meet you back here.”

“Oh. ‘Kay, then,” Skyler said, obviously befuddled. “See you, Gaia.”

“Bye.”

Gaia walked at the briskest pace she could without looking too suspicious. Her temperature had spiked. Her whole body was covered in a thin sheen of perspiration. At the end of the hallway she shuffled down the stairs as quickly as she could in Liz's mom's shoes. As she reentered the main ballroom, it felt like everyone was staring at her.
Have I grown horns?
Gaia wanted to scream out.
What do you want?
Spotting Dr. Rodke's group of cackling businessmen off to her left, she broke into a jog.

GAIA LAY SPRAWLED ACROSS THE backseat of the cab, holding her shoes, her head poking out the open window.
Nobody following us. Almost home.
Bank Street was one of the prettiest streets Gaia had ever lived on—a quaint, tree-lined row of rustic three- to five-floor brownstones. It had stopped raining. She was proud of herself for having made the right decision under pressure. Everything would be all right. She had spotted the threat and left the situation. A few minutes from now she would be chilling on her bed, watching late night cable TV.

“That's good right here,” Gaia said. “On the corner.”

The cabbie kept driving.

Gaia's heart kicked into a higher gear. She knocked on the glass. “Excuse me. You just passed my corner!”

The cabbie kept driving, slowly. He made no indication that he'd heard her. Gaia looked at his official cab ID in the corner. The man had short-cropped hair dyed bright peroxide blond. She tried to stamp his taxi license permanently into her memory: EA4669. The name on the license: Ivan Ivanovsky. Gaia threw open the Plexiglas window that stood between her and the driver.

“You just passed my apartment building,” she said.

The man turned his head slightly. “I thought you said 139 Bank Street,” Ivan said, still driving. “That's farther up.”

“No, it's not! You just passed it.”

“You sure?” Ivan asked.

“Yes, I'm sure! I live there.”

“Oh. My bad.”

“That's all right,” Gaia said. “Just let me out.”

The cab came to an abrupt stop. The meter read $7.80. Gaia handed the guy a ten-dollar bill. “Thanks.”

“No, thank
yow,”
the cabbie said, grabbing the money. “Have a lovely evening.”