her role—the unearned part, in other words. She truly believed she was serving the mission better by presenting herself as a knowledgeable businesswoman who happened to be a princess and not vice versa.
After their fraught first stop, they got into a routine, one that Mr. Benz begrudgingly accepted. She’d go in, Torkel would stand sentry outside, and Leo and Mr. Benz would drive off—to get her a treat! That was the astonishing part.
It had been a cup of coffee and a bagel after the first one, and after the second one, a big biscuit Leo called a black-and-white cookie, which was apparently a signature New York treat. He, it seemed, had taken to heart her wish to “eat all the New York food.”
In addition to doing good work, Marie was having fun. Leo was charming and easy to talk to. He had a kind of . . . not optimism—he was too grumpy for that—but a good-humored stoicism that was contagious. She was even letting herself forget the ugly confrontation with Philip Gregory from last night. Letting herself believe that perhaps there was a solution they hadn’t thought of yet. Or at least allowing herself to ignore the problem for a while.
And driving between appointments, Leo had been a wonderful tour guide, pointing out iconic buildings but also dispensing interesting anecdotes about their history. With some extra time before her final appointment of the morning, he took her to nearby Madison Square Park. They strolled with Torkel and Mr. Benz following a good distance behind them. It was almost like being alone.
“Is Madison Square Garden around here?” she asked as they passed a large Christmas tree set up in an empty fountain. “It’s one of those iconic American buildings you always hear about.”
“It used to be, but the modern incarnation of Madison Square Garden—which, incidentally, is its fourth—is in Midtown. I can drive you by it if you like, but it’s not much to see.”
“It’s funny how sometimes the most famous places aren’t.”
“But if you’re into iconic New York City architecture, this is a good spot.” He pointed over her shoulder. “That’s the Flatiron Building.”
“Oh, I know the Flatiron Building!” She turned.
“Most people do, even if not by name.”
“No, I mean I studied it. My degree specialization was in solid materials and mechanics, but I took a course in the history of civil engineering. Apparently wind load was a challenge for this building, because it’s so narrow.”
“It was one of the early steel-frame skyscrapers,” Leo said. “Apparently there was a lot of interest from the public as it went up. It’s also kind of unique in that it’s limestone on the bottom and terra-cotta on the top.”
“How do you know all this?”
He shrugged and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Architectural history is kind of a hobby of mine.” He pivoted ninety degrees. “Check out this one—the MetLife Tower. It was built in 1909. It was originally clad in marble but was refaced in limestone in the sixties.”
“It would have been something to see them getting the marble up there in 1909.”
“It would, wouldn’t it?” He spoke to her but he was still looking at the building. “Supposedly the architect was inspired by the bell tower on the Piazza San Marco.”
She considered that. “I don’t see it. Yes, they’re both towers, but isn’t the St. Mark’s tower made of brick?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you been? You’re Italian, yes?”
“I am—well, Italian-American. My grandparents on both sides were the first generation. So my parents spoke Italian, but Gabby and I just know slang and swear words, mostly. But, nope, I’ve never been to Italy.” He looked almost wistful as he gazed at the tower. Was he thinking about his parents? Or about the ancestral homeland he’d never been to? “The light from this tower is on all the time,” he went on. “The old MetLife advertising used to say it was ‘the light that never fails.’”
What a delightful little fact. “Mr. Ricci, I’m not sure I believe you when you say that architectural history is a hobby of yours.” That dislodged his attention from the building. He shot her a bewildered look. She grinned. “I think the situation is better characterized by saying that you are complete architecture nerd.”
He barked a startled laugh. “Guilty as charged. But what about you, Your Royal Watch Engineering Highness?”
She smiled. The titles he made up for her were highly amusing.
“Anyway, the reason I brought you here is that the MetLife Tower was one of the only