Fifth Avenue

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The phone rang three times before Leana looked at the clock on her bedside table. It was 7:15 A.M. and her apartment was ablaze with early-morning sunlight.

She sat up in bed and wondered who would call at this hour of the morning. She thought of a number of possibilities and realized the only person she really wanted to hear from was Michael Archer. But he rarely phoned. Lately, he almost always chose to stop by instead.

When the phone entered its fifth ring, Leana answered it-and the line went dead. That was twice since last evening someone had called and hung up on her. She wondered if Mario somehow got her number and was calling to see if she was in and safe, but didn’t want to talk. But she cast that idea aside. If Mario wanted to talk to her, he’d talk.

She replaced the receiver, slid under the covers and wondered how he was. She hadn’t seen him since the night Eric was beaten; hadn’t heard from him since the note she received in the restaurant.

Although she was angry with him for lying to her, she missed him, though not enough to call. She would leave that up to Mario.

She looked around her new apartment.

In a matter of days, she and Michael Archer had transformed the loft into a place she now was proud to call home. No longer were the walls a dull, lifeless gray-they now were ivory bright. The furniture the previous tenant left behind was gone-Michael had it hauled away-and the broken windows were replaced with fresh panes of glass. Although there still was much to be done-furniture to buy, curtains to hang, floors to clean and wax-she was looking forward to the work, perhaps because she knew Michael would be there to help her.

She wondered if he planned on stopping by later. Since the night they had dinner, he had come by every morning to help with the painting. They spent their days painting and talking and listening to music on the iPod and Bose dock Michael bought as a housewarming gift.

She learned about his life in Hollywood, how difficult it had been for him to write and publish his first novel, and the details of his parents’ death.

“What’s it like without them?” she asked.

“I miss my mother,” he said. “She died when I was young. But my father?” He shrugged. “Not so much. We didn’t get along.”

Evenings were best. After calling it a day, they would clean up and take to the city.

Michael showed Leana a side of New York she hadn’t seen. They dined at small family restaurants in the Village, went to poetry readings, browsed the many art galleries. They went to see a play at the Cherry Lane Theater, had a beer and a game of darts at the Kettle of Fish, and walked the streets, looking up at the buildings and discussing how different the architecture looked at night.

Now, as Leana thought of her new job, of the opportunities it offered and how she felt about Michael, she realized she was approaching an unfamiliar kind of happiness. Not since her relationship with Mario had she felt this vital. She was in an apartment of her own, soon she would begin work for Louis Ryan and she had a great man in her life. For the first time in years, she was experiencing something hopeful. Leana decided it wouldn’t be something she would let go of easily.

The telephone rang again. Leana considered ignoring it, but sat up in bed and snatched the receiver from its hook. “Hello,” she said.

“Look out your window.”

“Who is this?”

“Just look out your window. Hurry up before I get a ticket.”

It was Louis Ryan.

Leana stepped out of bed and moved across the room. She hadn’t finished unpacking and had to push cardboard boxes out of her way to get to the window.

She parted the blinds.

Down below, double-parked on Fifth, was Louis. He was standing beside a sleek new Mercedes Gullwing, his crown of graying hair stirring in the rising breeze.

His arms were lifted, spread wide. In one hand, he held a bouquet of roses, in the other he held a cell phone. Leana lifted the window and leaned out. “You’re insane,” she said into the phone. “What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off your new car,” Louis said. “Just my way of saying thanks for taking the job.”

She felt a thrill. “My new car-you can’t be serious!”

“I’m dead serious,” he said. “The car’s yours-along with my appreciation. You’re moving into a powerful position. This car fits the image of that position. People will expect you to be driving something like it.”

“They’ll hate me for it. Look at those doors!”

Louis shrugged. He tossed the roses and the phone onto the dash and pushed the door down until it clicked shut. He flagged a cab. As one rolled to a stop beside him, he nodded toward the gleaming Mercedes. “The car’s running,” he shouted. “I didn’t have time to find a parking space for it. Unless you want someone to steal it, I suggest you get down here now and find a place to park it.”

“But I’m not dressed!”

Louis Ryan didn’t care. He was gone.

Leana dressed quickly. She went to her bureau, pulled on a pair of shorts, changed her nightshirt for a crisp, white T-shirt, and stepped into a pair of worn moccasins. Feeling like a child on Christmas morning, she fled her apartment, darted down the five flights of stairs and burst out of the building.

At this hour of the morning, the sidewalks were nearly deserted. Only a few people wearing NYU sweatshirts were jogging down Fifth toward Washington Square.

Leana went to the car. She ran a hand along the slick black surface, felt the smooth hum of the engine, lifted the driver’s side door up and down, and couldn’t help a smile-the car was a work of art.

As she slipped inside, she reached for the roses and buried her nose in them. Only three years ago she had been in a drug rehab clinic, ready to give up on a life she was convinced was no longer worth living. Now, she was sitting in the new Mercedes Gullwing her employer purchased for her, and soon she would start managing New York City’s largest hotel. The change of events was incredible to her.

The cell phone Ryan left behind burst into sound. It was on the passenger seat. Leana reached for it. “I love it,” she said.

Louis laughed. She could hear traffic rushing past him and sensed he had the window down. “I’m glad,” he said. “And believe me-you’ll earn it. Now, look-I’m on my way to the hotel. Why don’t you throw the car into gear and meet me there? I think it’s time you see where you’re going to make your success.”

She panicked. “I don’t know how to use this thing. It’s too powerful. Can your hear the engine? It’s roaring.”

“Purring,” he said. “That car purrs. But you can get it to roar.”

“I’ll have to change,” she said. “And take a shower-”

“Nonsense,” Louis said. “You look perfectly fine the way you are. And, besides, it’ll just be the two of us. Promise.”

The hotel seemed to touch the sky.

When Leana pulled in front of it, she looked up at its enormous sheets of mirrored glass, at the ultra-modern exterior glass elevators shooting up and down its sides and felt a rush of adrenaline when she noted that the scaffolding had been removed.

Although Louis said work would be completed soon on the 4,000-room hotel, she had no idea it was this close to completion. And then reality struck. I’m going to be running this place in a matter of days.

Although her father owned a fleet of hotels, Leana knew nothing about the hotel business. But she knew it would be okay. Harold will help me.

With the exception of the exterior glass elevators, perhaps the most striking part of the building was its sign-it was sleek and modern, so smooth in its conception, it looked as if it was designed with the next century in mind. Centered above the entrance, shining in the sun, were three words in ten-foot steel letters:

The Hotel Fifth

Leana looked at the sign and felt a chill-then a shot of determination-dart up her spine. I’m going to do this, she thought. Failing isn’t an option.

She put the car into gear and was about to leave for the underground garage when she noticed a man in an immaculate gray suit walking swiftly toward her, his smile almost as dazzling as the hotel’s sign. “Miss Redman,” he said. “Welcome.”

He moved to her side of the car and extended a hand, which Leana shook. “Zack Anderson,” he said. “Your new assistant.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Leana said, and quickly became aware of her appearance. Louis said it would be just the two of them here and so she hadn’t changed her clothes. But this man, this man who was at least twice her age, looked as if he just stepped off the cover of GQ-and he would be working for her.

“Is Louis here?” she asked.

“He’s inside,” Zack said. “Just beyond those doors. Would you like me to park the car for you.”

Leana thanked him and stepped out of the car. Before he slipped inside, she noticed him noticing her wrinkled shorts, her T-shirt and worn moccasins, and couldn’t help wishing she had changed into something more appropriate before leaving home. He lowered the door and Leana watched him run his hands along the leather steering wheel, watched him envy the plush cream interior.

Before he sped off, she said, “Can I ask you something?”

He checked his hair in the rearview mirror. “You can ask me anything,” he said casually, without bothering to look at her. “It’s why I’m here.”

It was at that moment she decided she didn’t like him. He was too smooth, too helpful and there was a whiff of condescension about him. He thinks I’m just another pretty face, she thought. So, I’ll need to prove him wrong, too. “How long have you been in this business?” she asked.

“Twenty-three years” he said swiftly. “And I have to be honest with you, Miss Redman-one of these days, I hope to have your job.”

Louis Ryan was nowhere in sight when Leana entered the hotel. She waited by the revolving glass and steel doors for several moments before she climbed the small flight of stairs that led to the lobby-which left her stunned.

It was huge, cavernous and filled with seven floors of shops and restaurants and bars. People were hurrying about her. Escalators zigzagged to the atrium’s glass ceiling. An enormous indoor waterfall fell smoothly in the center of the room, glinting and casting rainbows of light on the gray marble walls-it divided an open-air restaurant filled with exotic flowers and plants. Not only was this lobby bigger than Redman International’s, the way it was positioned in the room made it superior in every way.

She turned her attention to the people bustling past her, watched the hustle and commotion, and became fascinated by how seamlessly everything was coming together.

Men were pushing racks of clothes, polishing glass, wheeling cartons of food across the great expanse of carpet. Women were shouting orders, arranging window displays, shooting past her in crisp, designer outfits.

One woman called out to a friend. “We’re opening Wednesday and we’re booked. Tell me how we’re going to be finished in time when we’re having a party the night before. This is going to be impossible.”

We’ll see about that, Leana thought and moved further into the room.

As she looked around, it occurred to her that she could see herself managing this place and turning it into the success she promised Louis Ryan it would become.

There was a hand on her arm. Leana turned and saw Zack Anderson. “So, what do you think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” Leana said.

He laughed softly. “I guess we’re not on the same wave-length,” he said. “I know it’s beautiful. This lobby alone set Mr. Ryan and his investors back a cool $300 million. I was just wondering if you think you’re going to be able to manage it.”

He was patronizing her. Leana felt a flash of irritation, but stilled it. She smiled at him. “I don’t see how I can go wrong, Mr. Anderson. With you taking direction from me and doing all my leg work, how could I fail?”

Zack Anderson’s smile faded. Leana squeezed his arm. “I understand there are several gyms here,” she said. “May I offer a tip?”

“Of course.”

“Start using them. To keep up with me, you’re going to have to improve your cardio, not to mention your attitude. I can’t have an assistant who can’t keep up. And I won’t have an assistant whose ego is so big, it could fill this space and squeeze everyone else out of it. Are we clear?”

He was about to answer when something caught his eye and he turned. The smile she had wiped clean from his face resurfaced. “Well, well,” he said. “So they decided to come, after all.”

Leana followed his gaze. Across the room, moving leisurely in their direction, was Louis Ryan-and he was surrounded by a small group of people in business suits.

“Who are they?” she asked.

Zack Anderson looked surprised. “Who are they?” he repeated. “Miss Redman, just how much do you know about this job?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” she admitted. “But that’s what you’re here for, Zack. Now, tell me-who are they?”

“His investors,” the man said. “The people you’ll be working for.”

He glanced at her scuffed shoes, at her shorts and tousled jet hair, and his smile broadened. “I’ll tell Mr. Ryan that you’re here so he can make introductions.”

Things always had a way of falling into place for Louis Ryan.

When he asked Leana to meet him here this morning, he genuinely thought no one of any real importance would be at the hotel-certainly not at this hour of the morning. And so he told her to come as she was.

Now, as he and his group of investors followed Zack Anderson toward the waterfall, he couldn’t have been happier that all that had changed. Just seeing the embarrassment on Leana Redman’s face when he introduced her to his partners was worth whatever mistrust she undoubtedly would feel toward him.

They stopped to admire the waterfall. The way it was designed, the water seemed to fall from nowhere though it flowed from a concealed location high above. There was no rippling of the water, just a wide, pure band seamlessly falling into a lighted abyss. As they passed the waterfall, Louis expected to see Leana waiting beyond it, but she wasn’t there. He looked around him, but didn’t see her. “Where is she?” he said quietly to Anderson. “I thought you said she was here.”

The man looked surprised. “She was,” he said. “I left her just a moment ago.”

“Then where is she now?”

“I’m here,” Leana said.

Both men turned.

Walking swiftly in their direction, dressed in an immaculate red Dior suit and matching red shoes, was Leana, her hair tied neatly away from her face, a diamond brooch glimmering on her lapel. She was coming from the direction of the Dior store, where two women stood at the doors and admired how the suit fit.

As she breezed past Louis and Zack and began introducing herself to the small group behind them, there was something in her eyes, something in the defiant way she held her head, that made each man feel as though they just lost a serious game of chess to a woman they assumed was an amateur.

Leana looked away from the group, fixed her gaze on her assistant, then at the man who had become her boss. “Would everyone like coffee?” she asked

A few said they’d love coffee.

“Perfect,” she said. “Zack isn’t exactly gifted behind the pot, so it’s good news that Starbucks is here.” She looked at Zack. “I know they have a complicated menu, but all you need to do is take their order and make sure you get it right. This time, please don’t make a mistake.” She turned to the group and held out her hands. “Sometimes he gets ahead of himself and makes errors in judgment, especially when it comes to people.”

They chuckled. And at that moment, with the heat searing between her and Zack, it was a wonder the waterfall didn’t start to boil.

When he was finished taking orders, Leana said, “How does everyone feel about a tour? I’ve yet to see this place for myself and I just found out we’re opening Wednesday. I’m eager to see the hotel for myself.”

She leveled Louis with a look. “Shall we?”

The hotel had four restaurants, five bars, two nightclubs and a theater that seated 3,000 and rivaled anything on Broadway.

In the atrium were name-brand shops of every type, for every taste, but not necessarily for every budget. There was an Olympic-size pool on the roof, a gym on every fifth floor and a small army of personal trainers who were under the advisement of the hotel’s five physicians. If guests stayed a week at The Hotel Fifth, there was no reason why they couldn’t go home looking and feeling better than they had in years.

As Leana followed Louis and his investors through those rooms he chose to show, even she, a woman who had spent time in some of the world’s great luxury hotels, was impressed. Each room offered spectacular views of the city.

“Obviously we’re targeting an upscale market,” Louis said. “And so each guest will be pampered. Fresh flowers when they arrive in their rooms, an assortment of fruit, a complimentary bottle of champagne. Transportation by our suite of limousines and Bentleys will be available on a first-come, first-served basis. For our business guests, we have everything they need-wireless, printers and fax machines, and a spacious, well-lit writing area. For those seeking computer equipment, laptops are available at no cost. For those on vacation, we’ve provided stylists for the women, tailors for the men. The spa here will be noted as one of New York's best-I can promise you that.”

He was beginning to sound more like a well-rehearsed PR person than the chairman of a multi-billion dollar corporation.

Leana stepped onto the terrace, lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and wondered again why Ryan had taken the risk of asking her to run such a hotel. More than once it had occurred to her that he might be using her to anger her father, and while Leana didn’t like the feeling, she accepted it because she, too, took the job for the same reason-sticking it to George.

She sensed someone standing behind her. It was Louis. He was standing in the doorway, hands clasped behind him, the sun reflecting off his glasses, making his eyes seem like gleaming spheres. “Pretty boring stuff, huh?”

Leana smiled.

“You won’t have to hear more,” he said. “We’re alone now. Zack’s going to finish the rest of the tour.”

“That’s good,” she said. “Zack is so…capable.”

“He’s an arrogant prick,” Louis said. “But he’s the best at what he does. When you’re in a pinch, he’ll have your back. That’s why I keep him. That’s why you’ll come to like him.”

“We’ll see.”

He moved to the railing she was standing at and leaned against it. They were on the fortieth floor and the city stretched out before them. “So, what’s the problem?” he asked. “You’re quiet.”

Leana decided that if she was going to work for this man, she was going to be honest with him.

“I got this job because you wanted to piss off my father, didn’t I?”

“Now what makes you think that?”

Leana raised a hand. “Look,” she said. “Can we just cut the bullshit? We both know that you and my father would prefer to see each other dead. We both know that my father is going to be furious when he learns I’ve taken this job. That’ll make you happy. Frankly, it also will make me happy. Very happy. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Louis lifted his head. Behind his glasses, his eyes narrowed slightly, almost as if he were seeing her in a different light, putting her in a different league. “I do,” he said.

“I just don’t want you to think that I don’t know what’s going on here,” Leana said. “Because I do. But I promise you this, Louis-this hotel will become a success under my leadership. It will become the only hotel to stay at in this city. I know the right people to ask for help when I need it. And I also know when to trust my gut when they aren’t available. Are we clear on that?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good,” Leana said. “So, if there’s nothing more, I have to return this outfit to the boutique on the first floor. Before I was ambushed by your group of investors, I told the manager she’d have it back within the hour.” She clicked her tongue. “And to think you said it was going to be just the two of us this morning.”

“I thought it was going to be,” he said truthfully. “Seeing them here was as much a surprise to you as it was to me.” He nodded at the brooch. “What are you going to do with that?”

Leana lifted her lapel and looked down at the dazzling swirl of diamonds. “Oh, this? This is going to be charged to you. So is the suit. J’adore Dior. The car’s nice, Louis, and I appreciate it. But now that we’ve come to a mutual understanding about why I’m really here, I think you’ll agree they’re worth it when my father learns that the car, the suit and this brooch came from you.”

As she moved past him, she leaned into him. “You want me to play dirty? It comes at a cost. But you can afford it. See you.”

On the drive back to her apartment, Leana allowed herself a well-deserved smile. She had been put on the spot and she handled herself well. She doubted whether her sister could have done better.

After finding a rare parking space along Fifth, she grabbed the roses off the seat beside her and raced up the five flights of stairs to her apartment-stopping abruptly when she saw the man waiting outside her apartment door.

He turned to her.

“Leana Redman?” he said.

Leana took a step back down the stairs, ready to bolt if he tried something. She did not give her name. “How did you get up here?” she asked.

The man was short, wiry and had blond spiky hair. He nodded past her, motioning down the stairs. “The door was open.”

“What do you want?”

“If you’re Leana Redman, I got a package for you-but you need to sign first.”

He thrust out a clipboard with some papers on it and Leana noticed for the first time the gift-wrapped package that was at his feet. Still wary, she signed where she was told and took the package when he handed it to her.

The man didn’t move. Instead, he just looked at her and waited with his hands on his hips. He attempted what she supposed was a smile.

Leana got the hint and moved past him. “Sorry,” she said. “My purse is inside. Could you give me a minute?”

She unlocked her apartment door and closed it when she went inside. She dropped the roses and the package onto a counter top, and reached for her purse on a side table. She removed a twenty, went back to the door and handed it to the man. “Thanks,” she said, and shut the door in his face. She locked it twice and dead bolted it once. He gave her the creeps.

The box was heavy for its size.

As she crossed the room to her bed, she shook it. Something heavy inside shifted. She couldn’t imagine what it was or who it was from. Not Louis again…

She sat at the foot of her bed, curled her legs around her and began removing the pink wrapping paper. When she opened the box, a scent of her favorite perfume drifted to her-the perfume Michael gave her yesterday as a gift. Smiling, she removed sheet upon sheet of red tissue paper, not stopping until she had gripped the object that was at the bottom of the box.

For a moment, she froze. The object was a gun.

Leana released it, the coolness of the metal lingering like a poison on her palm and fingertips.

Inside was a note.

Miss Redman:

I’ve been asked to watch you for some time now and I must say that it’s going to be a shame to kill you. Never have I seen such a remarkably beautiful young woman. This morning, while you were sitting in your new car, I had to still an urge to press against your back the very gun that’s inside this box and take you home with me. I can only imagine how exquisite your legs would feel around my back, can only dream how sweet our love-making would be.

But that won’t be. My job is to kill you. Allow me to apologize now. When I take your life, it won’t be with pleasure.

And that is why I’m giving you an opportunity-take the gun, press it against your temple and pull the trigger. It will weigh much less heavily on my mind knowing you had the good sense to take your own life and I can guarantee you that it will be far less painful, especially since I've been paid to make certain it's painful. Sometimes, when people don’t take my advice, I can become quite…brutal.

It really is a perfect day for a suicide, wouldn’t you say? The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the gun is loaded. Please make the right decision, Miss Redman. Someone as pretty as you should be spared as much pain as possible.

I’m giving you twenty-four hours to make your decision. Any time after that and you’re fair game. Oh, and please don’t do anything foolish like telling someone about this. If you do, I’ll know-and neither of us wants that.

Leana crumpled the note and dropped it in the box.

Her breathing was uneven.

Perspiration shimmered on her forehead.

Eric was behind this. She was sure of it.

She looked at the phone. She should call Mario and tell him everything. But she couldn’t. If she did, there was no doubt that somehow this man would find out.

She felt suddenly and entirely alone. There was fear, but it was a different kind of fear from the fear she felt when Eric beat her. She knew then that he wouldn’t kill her. She knew now that he wanted her dead.

She looked at her watch and saw that it was getting late. She wondered where Michael was. She wondered if he had already come by and found her gone.

Her head was spinning.

I’m giving you twenty-four hours to make your decision. Any time after that and you’re fair game.