What a mess, she thought as she looked at all the cans and nails and wood and debris. Hard to believe that this is really going to turn into something beautiful. I’d better open the door to the terrace and get some air in here, she thought. She walked to the corner of the spacious living/dining room and started up the spiral staircase toward the roof. She stopped for a moment. What was that noise she heard?

Nothing, she decided.

Regan tightened her grip on the railing and glanced out the window at the neighboring buildings. Feeling reassured by the familiar view she started up again. On the top step, she reached for the handle of the metal door that led to the terrace, then froze in place.

All of the lights had gone out.

Regan was standing alone in the pitch dark.

New York City had just been hit by a blackout.

2

A t Larry’s Laughs, a hot, cramped comedy club in Midtown Manhattan, Regan’s best friend, Kit, was sitting at a table close to the small stage with a woman she had met just hours earlier. They were both attending a three-day insurance conference at the Gates Hotel on West Forty-fourth Street. Kit’s crutches, her constant companions since foot surgery two weeks earlier, were on the floor next to her.

“After those dry-as-dust seminars, I could use a few laughs,” Georgina had said to Kit during the cocktail and buffet reception. “It looks like you could, too. One of the bellmen told me there’s a new comedy club not far from here. I’m trying to get a group together to leave this shindig as soon as the head of the conference makes his speech and it’s safe for us to make our escape.” She rolled her eyes and pretended to yawn. “How about it?”

Kit laughed. “If we can get a cab and the place is air-conditioned, I’m game,” she said jovially, thinking it sounded like a good idea. Apparently no one else did. It ended up being just the two of them heading out for a taste of New York City nightlife.

Within minutes, Kit realized that she and Georgina were not on the path to a long and beautiful friendship. Georgina never stopped talking during the short cab ride to the club, swatting Kit’s arm for emphasis every time she made a point. Her electric blue eyes darted around the cab, occasionally fixating on Kit with a disconcerting stare before turning away again. Kit learned that Georgina was single, hated her job, and was trying very hard to quit smoking. Attractive in an offbeat way, she was tall with long, brassy brown hair streaked with wide blond highlights, long bangs, and interesting features. Funky jewelry accessorized her simple, black summer sheath. Her long bronze nails matched her hair.

As they sat waiting for the show to start, a fidgety Georgina downed her margarita and then grabbed her purse off the floor. “I hope you don’t mind, but I really need a smoke. I’ll be right back.”