The Fifth Avenue Series Boxed Set Read Online Free Page B

until a few weeks ago, when he had no choice.
    All around him was his father, from Louis’ towering office and condominium complexes on Fifth to the lavish hotels he’d passed earlier on Park and Madison.   Even if no one knew he was Louis’ son, the idea that his father’s ego had spread like a disease throughout this city embarrassed him.
    It was ironic, he thought, that now he was being thrust back into a life he had once run from.   More ironic, still, that his father was the only person who could help him.
    On the seat beside him was the manila envelope Louis gave him that evening.   Michael reached for it, turned on the light above his head and removed several photographs of Leana Redman.
    Most were pictures of her reading in Washington Square, but some had been taken of her standing in line at a newspaper stand.   Others were of her running to catch a cab.
    Michael studied her face and wondered what his father was getting him into.   Why was it so important that he meet Leana Redman?   And why had Louis refused to give him the money he needed if he didn’t meet her?
    The limousine caught a string of green lights and sailed down Fifth.   Ahead, Michael could see the bright, resilient spotlights fanning across The Redman International Building, illuminating the red ribbon in sharp, brilliant sweeps.
    He put the photographs away.   For now, he would do as his father wished.
    After the recent threat against his life, he hardly had a choice.
     

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Excitement in the lobby was building.
    From his position beside the glimmering waterfall, Vincent Spocatti watched the flurry of activity surrounding him.
    Under Elizabeth Redman’s direction, uniformed maids were checking place settings, polishing the lobby’s gleaming accents, making last-minute touches to the enormous flower arrangements that adorned each of the two hundred tables for eight.   Barmen in black dinner jackets were stocking glasses, stocking bottles, stocking ice.   Behind him, members of the thirty-four piece band were settling into their seats, preparing for the busy evening ahead.
    Considering the bombs that exploded earlier, Spocatti was impressed by how seamlessly everything was coming together.   If it weren’t for Elizabeth Redman and her daughter, Celina, he knew things wouldn’t be going as smoothly.
    Elizabeth was moving across the lobby to the bar.   Vincent watched her.   Like her daughter Celina, Elizabeth Redman was tall and slender, her blonde hair coming just to her shoulders, framing an oval face that suggested intelligence and a sense of humor. The diamonds at her neck, wrists and ears were competitive, but not aggressive.   She knew the crowd she’d invited.   She knew how to work them.   It was obvious.
    As she stepped past him, Spocatti turned and caught a glimpse of himself in the huge mirrored pillar to his right.   Where the gun pressed against the breast pocket of his black dinner jacket, there was a slight bulge—but Spocatti paid little attention to it.   He was a member of security and had been hired this evening to protect George Redman, his family and their guests from a possible intruder.
    The irony almost made him laugh.
    He took in his surroundings.   Although security appeared tight, it was sadly loose.   After today’s bombing, George Redman had hired twenty-five men to stand guard over tonight’s gala—and, as far as Spocatti was concerned, every one of them was an amateur, which was just fine with him.
    Now, he should have no problem slipping into one of the elevators and getting the information Louis Ryan needed on the takeover of WestTex Incorporated.
     
     
    *    *    *
     
     
    Elizabeth Redman was moving again, this time in his direction.   Although she seemed unaffected by it, Spocatti sensed by the confident way she held herself that she was very much aware of the power she wielded in this city.
    She approached with a smile and an extended