“Don’t be like that,” he said, staring intently at her. “I got here as fast as I could. I planned to leave the gym early, but my last client waltzed in twenty minutes late, then insisted on doing weight work at the end of his session. Damn reality stars!”
Simone kept her frown in place. Inclining her head to the right to get a good look at him, she brushed her bangs out of her face. His eyes were bright, and his lips were twitching at the corners. He didn’t look sorry. In fact, it looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “Is it too much to ask for you to be on time when we have plans?”
“I tried to leave work early, but it’s just been one of those days. Today was the start of Samson’s Fall Shape-Up Promotion and the reception area was so full I had to get some of the towel boys to lend a hand. By the time I finished up in the office, it was after five.”
Simone wasn’t moved. Marcus worked hard, and she appreciated the life he provided for her and the boys, but once—just once—she’d like him to show up on time. It wasn’t often they went out without the kids, and when they did, they were usually the last couple to arrive. And that annoyed the hell out of her.
“Dad, hurry up!” Jordan hollered, poking his head out of his bedroom door. “We’re patiently waiting for you!”
The couple laughed, shared a smile that caused the tension in the air to dissipate.
“I better go hook up that electric train before they flog me with the extension cord!”
“You have ten minutes, Marcus. That’s it—” Frowning, Simone listened quietly for several seconds. She heard a door close, then the click clack of high heels on the hardwood floor.
“Grandma’s here! And I brought McDonald’s!”
The boys flew out of their bedroom, across the hall and down the stairs.
“Marcus, you forgot to lock the front door again.”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Mom must have used her key.”
“You gave her a set of our house keys? Why?”
“In case of an emergency.”
“So, why is she using it now?”
“Because it’s freezing outside and she didn’t want to wait for us to open the door!” Marcus chuckled. “Relax, baby. It’s all good.”
Like hell it is! Simone clamped her mouth shut, swallowed the stinging retort on her lips. Channeling her inner Buddha, she breathed deeply through her nose and allowed the fragrant scent of fresh fruit to calm her. A “Seductress” doesn’t lose her cool every time life throws her a curveball, Simone thought, turning back toward the dresser mirror to finish applying her mascara. She handles every problem with poise, with grace, and knows how to pick her battles.
“I’m going to grab something to eat while you get dressed.”
“I am dressed.”
“That’s what you’re wearing to the party?”
Simone stared at her dress, then back at Marcus. “Yeah, why? Don’t I look okay?”
“Baby, please, you’d look good in a garbage bag...”
“But...” she prompted, sensing there was a lot more he wanted to say. “What is it?”
Marcus advanced into the room, came over to where Simone was standing. She smelled fresh, like a spring rain shower, and her scent aroused his desire. He slipped his hands around her waist, held her close. She felt soft and warm, and she fit perfectly into his arms. Simone was everything he wanted in a woman—no, more—and he took great pride in spoiling her, in buying her the very best that money could buy. And tonight he wanted to see her in something fabulous. Not a thick, bulky sweater that hid her drool-worthy figure. “Why don’t you wear the dress I got you for your birthday? You know, the one with the ruffles.”
Because it’s butt-ugly, Simone thought but didn’t say. Marcus, with the help of his young, fashion-obsessed receptionist, had picked out a short, strapless couture gown that had fortunately turned out to be two sizes too small. It was revealing, clingy in all the wrong places and looked like something that had been rejected on Project Runway, but instead of telling Marcus she hated the dress, she said, “I felt like wearing this. Is something wrong with that?”
“No,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “But you wear it all the time.”
Her body stiffened. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, you wore it to the fall concert at Mom’s church, that art gala at the museum and...” Marcus saw her eyes narrow and trailed off into silence. To smooth things over, and turn her scowl into a smile, he tried to make her laugh. “Forget I said anything. You can wear whatever you want. I’m not the fashion police!”
“You’re right, you’re not,” Simone snapped, crossing her arms. Marcus had some nerve criticizing her outfit. She always looked neat and tidy, and when she had the time she did her makeup, so why was Marcus acting like she was a slob? Okay, so she wasn’t as fashion-conscious as she used to be, but it was hard keeping up with the latest trends when she had two rambunctious kids to chase after and a house to keep in order.
“Lighten up, baby. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Lighten up? I’ll lighten up as soon as you start showing up on time, remembering to call when you’re running late and quit acting like the world rotates on your axle.”
That felt good. But her satisfaction was short-lived. Guilt came, then a crushing dose of regret. That’s not how a Seductress behaves, Simone thought, catching sight of the little pink book on the dresser. A Seductress isn’t high-strung or petty, and she never flies off the handle.
Simone pushed out a breath, forced herself to think pleasant thoughts. Imagining herself at Destination Wellness, luxuriating in their plush Euphoria Suite, didn’t help to calm her. Neither did the distant sound of Jordan’s infectious, high-pitched laugh.
“Can we stop arguing long enough so I can share my good news?”
Turning around, she noticed the twinkle in his eyes and the wide smile playing on his lips. Marcus looked like he was about to burst. “What’s going on?”
“A buddy of mine called this morning to tell me the Chicago Bears are looking for a new athletic director,” he explained. “L.J. told the general manager all about Samson’s Gym and gave him my business card.”
“That’s great, baby! You’ve been a Bears fan for as long as I’ve known you—”
“No, I’ve been a fan since I was in the womb!” Marcus chuckled good-naturedly.
“What exactly does the job entail?”
“I would create a detailed training regime for all the players, treat various ailments and injuries and of course attend all practices and games.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is,” he conceded with a nod of his head. “But I’m up for the challenge.”
Her cheeks felt stiff, as if they were caked in cement, and her stomach was in knots. Simone was torn, troubled by her feelings. She wanted Marcus to be happy, wanted him to fulfill his lifelong dream of working with the Chicago Bears, but Simone hated the idea of him adding yet another project to his already-busy schedule.
“I have a meeting with Coach Tressel next Wednesday, and if things go well, I’ll be one step closer to landing my dream job.”
Simone squeezed his forearm and sent him a smile filled with love and warmth. She was going to be supportive even if it killed her. And when Simone thought about Marcus spending even more time away from her and the boys, she knew that it would. “I’m behind you a hundred percent,” she lied, ignoring the bitter taste of dishonesty on