The Thousandth Floor (The Thousandth Floor #1)

Atlas’s feet were suddenly rooted in place. “How did you know about the Amazon?” he asked, very slowly.

Shit. “You mentioned it, I think,” she told him, wishing she could unspeak the words.

“I’m sure I didn’t,” he corrected her.

“Well, Avery, then, or your parents, I don’t know. I heard it somewhere,” she said offhandedly.

But Atlas wasn’t so easily fooled. “Leda. What’s going on with you?” His brown eyes narrowed.

“Nothing, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Atlas nodded, seeming to let it go, and they kept dancing. But Leda could still see the tightness in his jaw, the tension in his body. She felt it strumming through the space between them.

After another song, he took a step back. “Want a drink?”

“Yes,” Leda agreed, a little too emphatically. She started to follow him, but Atlas shook his head.

“The bar’s so crowded—let me bring it to you. Champagne, right?”

“Thanks,” Leda said helplessly, even though champagne wasn’t her drink at all; it was Avery’s.

She wandered toward the enormous side rooms off the ballroom, wondering where her friends were. But before she saw them her eyes were drawn to her dad, who was standing alone in a corner. He was folded in on himself, looking like he didn’t want to be noticed, and muttering, clearly on a call.

Leda’s mind went immediately to last weekend, when he’d lied about golf. Before she thought twice about it she’d logged into LipRead on her contacts and focused intently on her dad’s mouth, dozens of meters away. LipRead was intended as a tool for the hearing-impaired, but Leda had discovered that it worked great for spying, when you used the new superzoom contacts.

“I can’t tell my family yet,” a robotic voice translated her dad’s words into her ear, in a grating monotone. What couldn’t he tell them, Leda wondered, the words giving her pause. A moment later: “Fine. I’ll talk to her next weekend.”

Leda, dazed at what she’d overheard, watched him end the ping and walk away, just as her mom appeared at her shoulder. “Leda! You look gorgeous!” Ilara exclaimed, as if she hadn’t seen her daughter getting ready. “Where’s Atlas?”

“Bringing us drinks,” Leda said shortly.

“Leda …”

“I’ll be good, I promise,” she added, still thinking about her dad’s behavior. She glanced over her mom’s crimson gown and expensive jewelry, realizing that she didn’t recognize the bracelet on her wrist. “Is that new?” she asked, momentarily distracted.

“Your father just gave it to me for our anniversary.” Ilara held out the bracelet, an intricate wrought-gold net studded with tiny diamonds, for Leda to inspect.

“That and a Calvadour scarf? Wow.” Leda had never seen her dad so generous.

“I didn’t get a Calvadour,” Ilara said, puzzled. “What do you mean, hon?”

“There are my two girls!” Leda’s dad pushed through the crowd to hook his arm through her mom’s. They made a striking pair, him so light and her so dark, the red pocket square in his tux mirroring the color of her dress. Leda wondered what his bizarre ping had been about, and what had happened to the scarf. Did he think better of it, and return it? It made sense, but still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger was going on.

“I need to go find Atlas.” Leda stepped back, feeling suddenly uneasy, almost panicked. She wanted a drink. Now.

“Leda—”

“See you at home,” she called out over her shoulder.

When she got to the bar, she shoved shamelessly forward to the front of the line, looking for Atlas. “Excuse me. I’m sorry,” she muttered, not really caring who she pushed past. Her need was like an itch crawling desperately over her skin. In some part of her mind, she registered this as a warning flag, but she’d deal with it later, when her chest wasn’t so tight.

At the front of the line stood Avery’s date. Watt, if she remembered right. Leda hadn’t actually been introduced to him at Eris’s party, though she’d seen him there, wandering around after Avery like a lost puppy. And now he was Avery’s date to the University Club gala? It seemed impossible that he’d just appeared in their lives out of nowhere, with no backstory and no explanation.

“Watt, right?” she asked, sidling up to him. “You’re here with Avery.”

“You do realize you just cut an entire line of people to get to the front of the bar.”

“It’s fine, they’re all friends,” Leda said, with an airy gesture. Well, it was sort of true.

“Who am I to argue with that logic,” Watt replied, his mouth twitching with a barely suppressed smile. Was he laughing at her? “Since you’re clearly thirsty, let me buy you a drink.”

“It’s an open bar,” Leda snapped in irritation, as the white-gloved bartender turned to Watt. She started to tell him that she wanted a—

“Whiskey soda for the lady. Beer for me. And a champagne,” Watt said.

When the bartender handed him the drinks, Watt and Leda moved aside, to a high-topped table past the crush of people. “How did you know what I wanted?” Leda asked, a little discomfited. Whiskey soda wasn’t exactly a ladylike drink, but it was the only thing that calmed her when she felt truly agitated.

“Lucky guess,” Watt said easily. “But be careful. It only takes one.”

She shot him a glance, startled. What the hell did he mean by that? It only takes one was what they used to say back at Silver Cove. But Watt was just sipping his beer innocently.

“I’m sorry,” she said, in the nicest tone she could muster. “I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Leda Cole.” She held out a hand, and Watt shook it, that maddening smirk still on his face.

“I know,” he answered.

“Well, that doesn’t seem fair,” she went on, more flustered than she’d wanted to be. “I don’t know anything about you! Tell me about yourself.”

“Oh, I’m not very interesting,” he said lightly.

“Where do you go to school?”

“Jefferson High.”

She frowned, wishing she could look up things like this on her contacts without being obvious about it. “I don’t know it. Are you—”

“It’s on the two hundred fortieth floor,” he interrupted, leaning on the table, watching her. He wasn’t tall, but there was something imposing about his stance. She found herself wishing they were seated.

“I see.” Leda had no idea how to respond. She hadn’t talked to anyone from that far down even back when she was a mile-higher. “And how did you say you met Avery?”

“I didn’t say.” He winked. “You seem awfully curious about me. It’s because Avery is your best friend, right?” He said it knowingly, and Leda flushed, angry. Had Avery told this guy about their falling out?

“She is,” Leda said defensively.

Avery appeared as if on cue. Her hair was swept up in a twist, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face, an incandescent tucked behind one ear like everyone used to do in middle school. It was totally lame and yet, of course, Avery pulled it off effortlessly. God, by next week everyone would probably be wearing incandescents again. Avery moved forward and the light dazzled over her gown, which was high necked and covered in miniature shards of mirror. Of course you picked that, Leda thought, with a surprising bitterness. It’s a dress that literally reflects you to yourself ad infinitum.

“Hi.” Avery stepped close to Watt, only to stiffen once she noticed Leda. “Oh. Hey, Leda. How’s your night?”

Oh, I just messed things up with the guy I like, and my dad’s acting weird, and I really miss my best friend. Other than that, it’s completely— “Fantastic,” Leda said, a smile settling over her face like a mask.

Avery nodded. “I saw your mom earlier. She said you guys might go to Greece over Christmas? I had no idea,” she added clumsily.

Of course you had no idea. We don’t talk anymore. “Yeah,” Leda said, suddenly sad. “Remember that time we had to be Greece for model UN?” she blurted out, not sure why she was bringing it up.

“And our homemade baklava made everyone sick?” Avery joined in.