SNAP: The World Unfolds

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

New York may have been a secondary office, but the Baron was nobody’s fool when it came to appearances.  The offices were at 50 Rockefeller Center, in the same building as The Associated Press headquarters.

A car with the usual demon driver picked me up the next morning just after 9.  His instructions were to get me to the office and into the elevator with no muss, fuss or bother.

Getting off the elevator the next morning was almost home.  One blond was behind a black granite counter and behind her was the ubiquitous mirror etched with the SNAP logo.  She looked up and smiled—no ice princess here—and said, “Good morning Ms. Gwenoch, we’ve been expecting you.”

She punched in some digits, said “Ms. Gwenoch is here,” cut the connection and asked if I’d like coffee.

Was I expected to cool my heels in the lobby drinking coffee until somebody was ready to see me?  I didn’t like that idea one bit.

I was working myself up into a snit when I heard Pen’s comment about a teenage drama queen, so I smiled. “Thank you.”

The receptionist and I walked through the mirror into an office space with fewer cubicles than home.  As we walked back to the private offices, I realized there were differences.  Here, phones rang.  They were quiet, but they weren’t gurgling.  And when I got to the office of Harry Jonas, the New York managing director, he not only had windows, but the sun streamed in.

He stood up and came around his desk. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Gewnoch,” he extended his hand.  The receptionist popped back up with a tray containing a coffee pot and two cups.   “Do you want it in here, or in the one you’ll be using,” she asked, nodding to an office two doors down.

We walked a few steps and Harry swung open my office door.  I had a desk, two monitors, a fax, phone, pens, headsets, just like home except the view. 

“When they called from Hungary and said you’d be stopping here, we called your assistant in LA and she told us how you liked to work.”

Oh boy, even heads of state and protocol chiefs could take lessons in how the Baron ran his empire.  Planned, punctual, polite par excellence. The receptionist set the coffee down.  “Thanks again,” I nodded and she turned a little pink.

It was clear that the staff of the New York office was regulars.  Neither a vampire nor a donor would have had that rush of blood when she or he was embarrassed.  If fact, I hadn’t ever seen any of them shy or embarrassed.  I understood again that I had a lot to learn if I wanted to throw my lot in with the Kandesky family and its hangers-on.  The problem was that they’d had years and years and years to learn social skills, to learn to keep their emotions in check, to feel completely self-assured in their skins and to know and appreciate their places.

“I managed to get through most of my emails last night,” I said to Harry.  “Do you have anything pressing?”

“No, not really.  We don’t cover as much as you guys out on the coast do, so much of my day is spent juggling freelancers and paparazzi.  I have one guy who sticks close to Caroline Schlossberg, I mean Caroline Kennedy.  New York City is lousy with old money, old families, society with a capital S, celebrities.  It’s the people you see in the Times or the Daily News even Newsday but it’s not like movie or media people who have recognition everywhere so our staff here is smaller.”

Not that we were looking for hordes more people; we weeded through every show and every edition as it was.

And this was only in the United States.  If we were ever short, we still had the Royals, the Europeans, the South American polo and money class.  The world was populated by people who other people wanted to read about or hear about or emulate or envy.  Privacy was beginning to be a scarce commodity.

Harry stood.  “I’ll give you a couple of hours to catch up.  I thought we could go to lunch and then swing by a few clubs and see if they have anything going tonight.”

It sounded like a good plan, particularly the part about leaving me alone.  I did want to spend an hour or so with Jazz, and see if Carola, Chaz and the others were home yet.  I needed to check my own reality.  Was it true that I’d spent the last few days in an Hungarian castle with vampires?  With vampires who were both my employees and my bosses?  With demons who guarded me and other vampires who were after me?