her office, rode the elevator to the street level and settled into the back seat of her town car.
CHAPTER 15
M arcus parked his car in a twenty-four-hour indoor garage a few blocks from Enid’s town house and strode along sidewalks that were crowded with people taking advantage of the unseasonably warm spring weather. A tall, muscular man dressed in black leather bumped into him, and he tightened his grip on a decorative shopping bag.
He didn’t break stride or offer an apology, remembering his mother’s warning never to make eye contact or speak to anyone whenever he informed her as a teenager that he and his friends were going to hang out in the city.
He’d grown up in New Rochelle, a northern suburb of New York City, the only child of an accountant father and math-teacher mother. The family joke was that he was born counting on his fingers and toes.
Marcus didn’t know if he’d inherited the special gene that made math easy for him, but he took full advantage of the skill which enabled him to decipher complicated mathematical equations in his head. He earned an accounting degree from New York University School of Business, graduating summa cum laude, and a subsequent MBA from Wharton.
He had no siblings, so he competed with himself, missing his goal to have his first million by age thirty by four years. That accomplished, he set another—five million by forty. As an equal partner in Pleasure Seekers and with an accounting client list that included record producers, video directors and his first hip-hop performer, he knew he’d realize that objective before his thirty-seventh birthday.
Marcus turned down the quiet tree-lined street with 19th century town houses and brownstones. The events of September 11 had changed the tony Battery Park neighborhood when many abandoned their historical houses until the air was declared safe enough for their return.
Enid had lived with him in his Pelham condominium for six weeks, and once she informed him that she was going back home he experienced a loss of companionship for the first time in his life. Their living together had offered him a glimpse of what it would be like to be married to her.
He rang the bell to the sand-colored three-story building, identifying himself after Enid’s sultry voice came through the intercom. When she lived with him he’d given her a key to his condo, yet she hadn’t reciprocated and he loathed asking her for one.
Marcus walked up the staircase to the second floor instead of taking the elevator, and as soon as he stepped onto the landing the door to Enid’s duplex opened. A quick smile crinkled the skin around his eyes when he stared at the woman who, when not at Pleasure Seekers, was a chameleon.
Enid closed the distance between them, put her arms around his neck, took off his baseball cap, pulled his head down and kissed him with a hunger that belied her outward calm. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered against his parted lips.
Marcus’s free hand cradled her waist, his fingers splayed over the band of exposed flesh under her skimpy tank top. “I’ve missed you, too,” he whispered into the fragrant hair tickling his nose. “What did you cook?”
“Gumbo with lagniappe.”
Marcus kissed the end of her nose. “Which means?”
“It’s an old Creole word for something extra. ” She reached for his arm. “Let’s eat, because the shrimp get tough once they’re reheated.”
“Something for you.”
Enid peered into the bag he handed her. There were two bottles of her favorite white wine and a large envelope with Ilene’s head shot and résumé. “Thank you, darling.”
“I’ll be with you as soon as I wash my hands.”
Marcus walked into a bathroom off the living room. The sunny yellow and lime-green furnishings were inviting, the complete opposite of the bathrooms in the Soho loft. Enid had decorated her business space in Asian-inspired minimalist furnishings, while her home radiated the warmth and sensuality