Pleasure Seekers Read Online Free

Singer: soulful voice. Shewas partial to “I’ll Be There,” off the Dave Koz CD The Dance. Massaging her forehead with her fingertips, she put the words together like puzzle pieces, adding and deleting sentences and phrases until they flowed like the lyrics of the sensual love song.
    The soft buzzing of the intercom broke into her concentration. She pushed a button, activating the speaker feature. “Yes?”
    “Do you want me to make any calls for you before I leave? I’m going out with the others to celebrate Monica’s engagement.”
    “No, Gina. I’m good here.”
    “Do you want your calls to go directly to voice mail?”
    “No, I’ll take them. Have fun.”
    “Thanks, Faye.”
    She pressed the button again. Picking up the pale blue business card she’d tucked under the telephone, she dialed the number. The call was answered on the second ring.
    “Good afternoon, P.S., Inc. This is Astrid. How may I direct your call?”
    Faye lifted her eyebrows. The woman who’d answered the telephone had a beautifully modulated voice. “I’d like to speak with either Mr. or Miss E.”
    “That would be Ms. Enid Richards.”
    She was right about the perfume. “May I speak with Ms. Richards?”
    “I’m sorry, but Ms. Richards is on an overseas call at the moment. Is it possible for her to call you back?”
    “Yes,” Faye said, before she could change her mind.Closing her eyes, she gave Astrid her name and cell-phone number.
    “Thank you, Ms. Ogden. Ms. Richards will return your call.”
    Faye hung up, leaned back in her chair and studied the items in the office that had become her second home. There were no diplomas on the walls or family photos on her desk and credenza. She had established the practice of keeping her private life just that—very, very private. No one at Bentley, Pope and Oliviera knew of her divorce until she updated her personnel file, and her brother’s dilemma was something she refused to discuss with anyone.
    She’d decorated her office with bamboo shoots in colorful ceramic pots, framed prints of the firm’s award-winning marketing campaigns and a watercolor she’d purchased from a Harlem street vendor.
    A headhunter, retained by the executives at BP&O had courted her for several months before agreeing to her salary demands, and her association with the prestigious advertising agency had been beneficial to her and to them. They won a Clio the year she signed with them, and they’d picked up another three since that time.
    Faye knew why she’d been given a corner office, a higher commission than her counterparts and her choice of accounts. She was responsible for all marketing programs targeted at the African-American consumer. She’d become so proficient at what she did that she now wanted to open her own agency.
    Her cell phone rang twice. Reaching for it, she pressed the Talk button. “Ms. Ogden.”
    “Ms. Ogden, please hold for Ms. Richards.” Faye doodled on the pad as she waited for the mysterious Enid Richards.
    “Ms. Ogden. This is Enid Richards. How may I assist you?”
    Faye’s eyebrows lifted before a slow smile parted her lips. The mature-sounding voice coming through the earpiece had a distinctive southern drawl. She’d also noticed that Enid said assist, not help.
    “That’s what I should be asking you, Ms. Richards. Someone at the Four Seasons gave me your business card last night.”
    “I was that someone, Ms. Ogden. I’d like to meet with you to discuss a business arrangement.”
    Faye’s smile faded as she sat up straighter. “What type of business?”
    “That is something I will not discuss over the telephone.”
    “If that’s the case, then I’m going to hang—”
    “Please don’t,” Enid said quickly, cutting Faye off. “I can assure you that what I’d like to propose to you is legal. It is an arrangement that will prove advantageously beneficial to you and my company.”
    Enid Richards’s evasiveness should’ve set off mental warning bells,