The driver pulled to the curb in front of an
ornate, spired building Emily recognized—the Dakota, onetime home to John
Lennon, Lauren Bacall, Bono, and many current celebrities. She glanced at
Derian. “You live here? I thought the waiting list was years long.”
“My mother had an apartment here from before
her marriage, and I’ve inherited it. I keep it for when I’m in the city.”
Emily remembered reading that Derian’s
mother, an heiress to an automotive family fortune, had died when Derian was a
child, and much of Derian’s wealth had been inherited from her. “I’m sorry.”
Derian opened the door and paused. “About?”
“Your mother.”
“Thanks,” Derian said softly, not thinking it
odd that Emily would offer condolences after almost twenty years. The loss
never grew any less. She stepped out and waited for Emily to join her before
guiding her toward the massive arched entryway to the inner courtyard.
A liveried doorman straightened when he saw
them coming. “Ms. Winfield. How good to see you again.”
“Hi, Ralph. Made it through another winter, I
see.”
The middle-aged man’s face crinkled in a wide
smile. “Never missed a day. It was a cold one too.”
She squeezed his arm. “I wouldn’t know. I
spent it in Greece.”
“Always somewhere sunny for you.” He chuckled
and escorted them across the brick courtyard to the east entrance. “Do you have
bags?”
“I sent them on ahead from the airport.”
“Peter will have gotten them up by now,
then.”
He held the door for them and Emily stepped
into the wide foyer first. She’d often imagined what it would look like, but
she hadn’t really come close to envisioning the grandeur of the sweeping
staircases, the gleaming brass fixtures, the stories-high ceiling and ornate,
old-world elegance. Beyond the breathtaking beauty, the quiet struck her first.
The atmosphere was as hushed as a cathedral. In a way, it was, being one of the
most exclusive residences in all of New York City.
“Thanks, Ralph.” When the doorman tipped a
finger to his cap and faded back, Derian led the way toward a bank of elevators
with scrolled brass doors and inserted a key. Once inside she pushed one of the
top floor buttons and the ride up progressed swiftly. As the doors opened,
Derian said, “I’m not sure if I’ve anything stocked in the way of refreshments.
They weren’t expecting me.”
“How long has it been since you’ve been
here?” Emily couldn’t imagine having an apartment in this magnificent building
and not actually living in it.
“Almost three years, I think,” Derian said,
her expression remote.