How could she have insisted earlier that Harrison go ahead of her to the party so she could shop for something to wear? She was never going to be allowed into a place like this without him. She still couldn’t believe the doorman for the building had opened the door for her in the first place—even tipping his hat as he did—or that the concierge hadn’t tried to stop her when she headed for the elevator, or that the elevator operator had told her it wasn’t necessary when she fumbled in her purse for the invitation Harrison had given her to prove she had been invited into this world. He’d just closed the doors and pushed the button that would rocket her straight to the top, as if that were exactly where she belonged. This was the kind of place that wasn’t supposed to allow in people like her. Normal people. Working people. People who hadn’t even had the proper attire for this party until a couple of hours ago, and whose attire still probably wasn’t all that proper, since she’d bought it at a secondhand shop.
