Pleasure Seekers Read Online Free Page A

but Faye found herself intrigued with the velvety timbre of the woman’s voice.
    “When and where do you want to meet?” she asked.
    “I’ll leave that up to you, Ms. Ogden.”
    She glanced at the planner on her desk. She hadn’t scheduled any meetings for the afternoon or evening. “Tonight at six, Café de Artistes.” She knew she hadn’t given Ms. Richards much notice, but if she were truly sincere then they would meet at her convenience.
    “I’ll make the reservation in my name,” Enid said quickly. There came another pause. “Thank you, Ms. Ogden.”
    Faye wanted to tell her thanking her was a little premature, but said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Richards.”

CHAPTER 9
    E nid arrived at Café des Artistes at five-thirty and requested a table giving her a view of anyone coming through the door.
    She’d always thought the artsy eating place naughty and boisterous. A place not to conduct business, but to have fun. The murals of frolicking nymphs painted in 1934 by Howard Chandler Christy added to the joie de vivre of the venerable upper west side restaurant frequented by notable theater and media personalities.
    Ignoring the goblet of sparkling water on the table in front of her, Enid’s eyes widened as she watched the woman heading toward her table.
    Faye Ogden was petite with a full lush body that did not have one straight line. The short blond curls hugging her head like a cap matched her eyebrows, the color flattering and brightening her light brown face and eyes.
    Enid’s penetrating gaze moved from Faye’s head to her feet in one sweeping glance. Tasteful makeup, pearl studs in her ears and a matching strand around her graceful neck, a tailored black linen gabardine single-buttoned jacket and slim matching skirt ending at her knees, and a pair of blackleather sling straps that bore the same designer label of a few in her own closet. She had tiny feet, slim ankles and curvy calves. Faye Ogden was perfectly exquisite.
    Pushing back her chair, Enid came to her feet and extended a hand. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Ogden. I’m Enid.”
    Faye shook her hand, finding the grip firm and confident. Why, she thought, was Enid thanking her when she’d been the one to set up the meeting? It was apparent that the tall, slender ash blond–haired woman was either overconfident or presumptuous.
    “Please call me Faye.”
    Enid smiled as she waited for Faye to sit before she sat down again. “Then Faye it is. Would you like to order a cocktail?”
    “No, thank you.”
    Enid gestured to a bottle of mineral water. “Will you share the water with me?”
    A hint of a smile softened Faye’s mouth. “Yes.”
    With a slight lifting of one pale eyebrow, Enid caught their waiter’s attention. She touched her goblet with a finger as he approached the table. The waiter turned over Faye’s glass and filled it, then retreated, standing a comfortable distance away.
    “Would you like to discuss business over dinner, or would you prefer we finish eating?” Enid asked.
    “Over dinner is okay with me,” Faye replied.
    Enid pretended interest in the menu as she took surreptitious glances through her lashes at the woman she hoped to sign to Pleasure Seekers. She did not think of FayeOgden as classically beautiful, but her flawless complexion, coloring and compact curvy body would make her a standout among the blondes and redheads who worked for her escort service.
     
    Faye found everything about Enid Richards intriguing. It was hard to pin down her age, but the saying that “black don’t crack,” certainly applied to Ms. Richards. And despite her fair coloring, pale hair color and European features, she knew the owner of P.S., Inc., was a sister-girl. In fact, Enid resembled a great-aunt who’d moved from Georgia to California, and once there elected to pass for white.
    Working in advertising gave Faye another advantage. She was able to identify products without seeing their labels, and Enid was a walking advertisement