by nikki blaire
Tremaine had just finished meeting with a few members of the board of directors and Marcus wanted to know every detail of how it went.
“What’s up, bruh?” Tremaine walked into his office showing off his set of dimples.
“I take it that grin means things went well.” He shook Tremaine’s hand then sat back down at his desk.
“I mean, if you define “well” as having them eating out of the palm of my hand...then yes, you could say that.” He laughed.
“I’ve got to hear this.” Marcus got up to make he and Tremaine a celebratory drink.
All day, he had been anxiously waiting for Tremaine to finish up his meeting with the board. Their opinion of Tremaine mattered, but Marcus was more concerned about what the board said about him when Marcus wasn’t in their presence. He had worked to gain their faith, but he wasn’t always sure of their perspective of him or the firm since his father’s resignation.
“They love the idea of diversifying and corporate responsibility.”
Tremaine gladly took the glass that Marcus held out to him. “It’s what keeping some major banks afloat, honestly.”
Marcus nodded in agreement, while he sipped from his own glass.
“Wealth management isn’t the exact same business, but why not get ahead of the curve. Some firms are doing venture capital for start ups and minority entrepreneurs, but I want to go deeper, like I told you before I went in there.”
“Yeah, starting a foundation...I remember you mentioning that.” Marcus placed his hand on his chin while he mulled over the idea.
“It is the way to go to secure some of these different kinds of clients. It’s how we stand apart.”
Marcus lifted his glass for a toast. “It’s how we got Damien.”
“That’s right.” Tremaine nodded then clinked his glass against Marcus’. “I saw he signed that $73 million contract and almost had a heart attack thinking of the commission.”
Marcus had to grin at his success so far. He had made some great decisions for the firm including the choice to trust in Tremaine.
“I told them a few ideas and they loved it. Obviously, we’ll still be handling the old stuff, but it’s definitely time for some new stuff.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more.” Marcus beamed
He and Tremaine finished chatting, but he couldn’t stay too long. He had planned a date for he and Charlisse and didn’t want to be late. If he stayed another thirty minutes, he would get caught in rush hour traffic.
“Well, I’m glad it well, Tremaine. I’ll touch base with the board and then we can bring you on over. Did you get a chance to look at the office?”
He had been working on referring to his father’s old office as simply “the office.” It made the transition easier for him.
“Yea, I peeped in for a second. It’ll definitely need a few of my stylistic touches, but it’s nice.”
Tremaine tone turned serious. “Thank you for trusting me, man. I really appreciate it. You know, I just never thought I would ever,”
His sentence fell short, but Marcus knew what he was trying to say.
“You're talented, Tremaine. You just needed the right opportunity to show it. It’s not about what you know, but who you know.”
“For sure.” He held out his hand to shake with Marcus one more time before getting up to leave. “Aight, I won’t hold you. I can tell when a man has places to be.”
“Oh, my bad.” He hadn’t meant to make Tremaine feel like there was a rush. “I just...have a date.”
Marcus was trying to decide if he should be telling this to Tremaine. The two were no longer enemies, but they weren’t exactly friends either. Plus, he and Charlisse were still new. She had only recently decided to trust the idea of being in a committed relationship. Tonight, was his attempt to celebrate.
“Aight, well let me get out of your way. Charlisse doesn’t seem like the type who likes to wait.”
Tremaine pulled back on his suit jacket then turned towards the door. His statement had caught Marcus extremely off guard. He thought he had been doing a great job of keeping their relationship to himself. There was no way that it could have gotten out.
“How do you know?” Marcus' mouth fell open.
“I mean, how could I not know?” Tremaine shrugged. “Was that shit a secret?”
His expression was thoroughly confused, which made Marcus exhale deeply. Charlisse was such a stickler about her career and privacy. He didn’t want his family, or extended family, knowing and risk them blabbing about it to anyone else. He would never hear the end of it.
“Ooooh, it was. Damn, my bad.” Tremaine shook his head. “I just...I mean, anyone who’s been around y’all for more than twenty minutes can tell that you’re,”
“Stop, don’t say it.” Marcus placed his hand on his forehead. “Is it really that obvious?”
Tremaine’s facial expression toggled between wanting to tell Marcus the truth and wanting to spare his feelings.
“I mean, like…” He was trying to search for the right words. “I kinda thought something was up when she came to dinner. Y’all niggas were staring at each other like you were about to make the table a bed. In my opinion.”
Tremaine tried to soften the blow. “But it became clear when Ayda told me that you said she was the best thing that ever happened to you or something like that. So, we both just figured,”
“Ayda told you that!” Marcus threw his hands in the air. “My own sister.”
“I’m her man. She tells me everything even shit I don’t wanna know.” Tremaine sighed.
“But she’s a good look. Charlisse is cool as hell. And she got you out of all of this bullshit. I mean, I don’t know how the whole “working for you” thing goes, but,”
“She doesn’t work for the firm anymore. She hasn’t for a while. My father’s last decision as CEO was to fire her. It was blackmail for my pushing him to resign.”
“Damn. That man is cold-blooded.” Tremaine shook his head. “I really admire how you’ve kept everything together, Marc. Everyone does. Everything would have been gone if you hadn’t stepped up.”
They shared a moment of silence steeped in mutual respect for each other. “Aight, well, I’ll let you get on your way. And don’t worry, for what it’s worth, your secret’s safe with me. I don’t know nothing about no date or relationship.”
Tremaine grinned before walking to the door.
“Thanks, man.” Marcus watched him leave and then began to pack up his things for the day.
He was almost out of the door when his assistant stopped him while he walked by the receptionist desk.
“Marc,” They called out before Marcus could push the “down” button on the elevator.
“Yes,” He spun around. “If it’s not major, can it wait? I’ve gotta get going.”
He had to chuckle to himself. He never thought he’d see the day when he was in a rush to leave the office for anything other than his own bed.
“The communications director sent me an email to check your calendar for your availability to do a photoshoot.”
“Photoshoot?” Marcus’ ears perked up. “For what?”
“Sports Illustrated. Their next issue is featuring Damien Winston, but after they would like to do a feature article on you and the firm. They want to fit you in as soon as possible to make the deadline for next month’s issue.”
Marcus almost dropped his briefcase at hearing the words. Excitement charged through his body and made his face hot.
“Whatever date works for them. Clear my calendar of anything on whatever day they have in mind.”
“Okay.” His assistant was trying to hold back laughter at his enthusiasm.
“Anything else?” He was now dying to tell Charlisse.
“No, sir.” His assistant still grinned then waved goodbye, as Marcus eagerly went to the elevator.
He couldn’t hold this kind of news, but wanted to tell Charlisse in person. An empire of his own was finally eme
rging, and he just had to tell his queen.
*****
Charlisse hated being late, but tonight she was strolling up to the restaurant where she was meeting Marcus about ten minutes after she was supposed to be there. Lately, she had been tired, so she took a nap that lasted longer than it should have. She woke up with just enough time to throw something on and get to dinner. She had text Marcus to let him know that she was running behind, but he never responded.
Her heels carried her as quickly as they could to the front of the restaurant that was nestled in a corner of the wharf. The doorman escorted her to the elevator, which carried her up twelve stories to the restaurant.
Charlisse had been here before and fallen in love with the view of the city that wrapped around the building. The elevator opened and Charlisse expected to step inside to the sound of the usual happy hour or early dinner rush, but the restaurant was empty.
“What in the world?” She looked at the completely empty space.
It looked so large without a crowd of people.
She turned back to the escort who had ridden the elevator with her. “Excuse me, but is it open yet?”
“Of course, Ms. Lageaux. Enjoy your evening.” He smiled then the door slowly closed in front of them.
“How in the,” Charlisse spun back around, her heels echoing loud clacks on the floor.
“This way, Ms. Lageaux.” Another attendant appeared. “Follow me.”
He lead her past the bar area to the kitchen. Hesitantly, she followed. Charlisse knew that Marcus had flare. Over the past few weeks, she had started to adjust to his exorbitant displays of affection. Still, this took the cake. She stepped inside the kitchen and found Marcus standing near a large table covered with ingredients. He was dressed casually, yet still debonnaire and wearing an apron.
“What is this?” Her eyes swept over the whole scene.
“We’re having dinner, duh.” Marcus shrugged then turned to the huge stove that stood behind him. “And you’re my sous chef. Grab an apron.”
“Honey, I can’t cook.” She gasped. “And I’m wearing heels.”
She looked down at her stilettos. These were “sitting” heels, not “standing” heels.
“And they look sexy as hell.”
He glanced down at her feet. “It won’t take long. We’re not cooking the whole meal. Just a few appetizers. The chef will take over for the hard parts.”
“Chef? I don’t see anyone, but us.” She took a few steps forward into the large kitchen.
“They’re giving us our privacy. Now, come over here and help me with this tempura batter. It’s simple. You can’t mess this up.”
Charlisse sighed, but eventually grabbed an apron to join him. “Okay, now what are we doing?”
“Well, first, you need some wine.” He reached by her for a glass then filled it with a white wine.
“Cheers to the most beautiful woman on Earth, dare I say the world.” He poured his own glass then held it up to toast.
“Marc, that’s so sweet.” She leaned in for a kiss then took a sip. “And this wine is delightful. What is it?”
“A Chablis that I really like. It goes with everything to me. I’m glad you like it.” The grin he wore was wicked and seductive.
Charlisse often wondered how she resisted Marcus’ charms for as long as she had.
Prayer and supplication.
She remembered, while she finished her glass.
“Nuh-uh. Don’t think you’re just going to stand there and look pretty, while I do all of the hard work.” He moved behind her then placed a knife in her hand.
“We’re starting with zucchini tempura. I need you to cut these up for me.”
Marcus guided her hands to the long zucchini that lay on the cutting board. “Feel familiar. You should be able to handle this.”
He joked, while he moved her other hand to position the knife. “Cut it into strips for me. Carefully. There’s no medic on standby.”
He moved his hands out of the way, but stayed behind her while she roughly chopped it up. She felt wholly inadequate at her job, but appreciated Marcus’ words of encouragement while she barely managed to get a few good strips of zucchini.
“We’ll starve if we were counting on me to feed us.” She shook her head after she finished. “These look pitiful.”
“Eh,” Marcus shrugged. “I can’t expect you to be good at everything. Then you’d be me.” He winked then moved the zucchini out of her way. “Okay, next up, we’re going to make the tempura batter.”
He put a large bowl in front of her then sat out a few other ingredients.
“I’m going to tell you what to add and when to add it.” He moved behind her again.
“You just like standing behind me, Marc.” She giggled, as he playfully kissed her neck and sniffed her hair.
“You damn right. Guilty as charged.” He pressed himself closer. “Okay, for the batter we’ve got flour, cornstarch, baking powder and salt. It’s already measured for you, so just dump it in.”
“Okay…” Charlisse paused before pouring in each ingredient.
She had so many accidents in the kitchen over the years that she half expected the bowl to explode. She was banned from even carrying the groceries in during the holidays. Her mother had been such a great cook, so she didn’t understand why the art was so lost to her.
“The irony of a girl from New Orleans not being able to cook.” Marcus said, as if he could read her thoughts.
“I know,” She smacked her teeth. “My mother was an expert, but I guess she never really got a chance to teach me before she died. I was always so wrapped in other things.”
She hadn’t talked to Marcus about her mother, other than to say that she had passed away. She rarely talked to anyone about her because of the emotions that it brought back up for her.
“Don’t beat yourself up so much, Charlisse.” He put a whisk in her hands then motioned for her to stir the bowl. “You sound like you blame yourself.”
“I don’t know,” She followed his direction. “Maybe I do. Maybe if I’d been more interested in learning from her, or,”
“Or what?” Marcus stopped her hands from whisking then leaned down to get closer to her ear. “You’re not God, Charlisse. Everything that happened was going to happen. Let it hurt, but don’t let it hinder.” He whispered then tenderly tugged at her earlobe with his lips.
“Your mother would be so proud of you. Not this cooking thing, but with everything else.”
Charlisse turned back to look at him smiling at her. She wanted to believe him. She even almost smiled back, but she just couldn’t shake her regret.
“My father always says that too. That she’s proud of me. I just wish I knew for sure.”
“You do know.” He tightened his arms around her waist. “Your father is probably the one person who knew your mother best. He’s saying that she would because I’m sure they had a lot of late night conversations about what you’d accomplish. I don’t know exactly what those things were, but I’m sure what you’ve done is more than they ever dreamed.”
Charlisse’s heart fluttered. Not even her father, the man she coveted most, had been able to find the right words to quell the constant babbling of blame that she placed on herself. And while she wasn’t foolish enough to think that Marcus had completely wiped away years of doubt and grief, she did feel good for the moment.
“You okay?” He kissed her forehead.
“Very much so.” She turned her attention back to the whisk. “Okay, what’s next?”
“I’m going to add this seltzer water, but you keep whisking.” He grabbed a can, popped it open, and then poured it into the batter.
She whisked until he told her to stop then poured the chopped zucchini into the bowl.
“Take those and drop them into the hot oil and then we’ll be done.” He went over to the sink to wash his hands. “See, not difficult at all.”
“No, it wasn’t.” She watched the little blobs of batter
until they began to float to the top of the oil.
“I don’t trust myself to do it alone though. You make things easy.”
Marcus came back over and passed her a dish towel to wipe her hands.
“Don’t try to butter me up. You’re still getting a spanking for being late.” He took the finished zucchini out of the oil and placed them on a paper towel covered dish.
“I fell asleep. I can’t even lie. I’ve been so tired lately.”
“For what? Your most needy client is off your to-do list.” Marcus let them cool then handed the plate to Charlisse.
“I wish I knew.” She shook her head then followed him out of the kitchen after he turned everything off.
“This is our table.” He led her out to the balcony.
The sun had just begun to set, while he pulled out her chair then took the plate from her and placed it in the center of the table. Two salads had already been set up for them with fresh glasses of wine sitting next to each plate.
“Oh my.” Charlisse still had to get used to this level of service.
She looked out at the water and fell in love with the view all over again. The sky was etched with lines of pink, purple, and orange that were simply breathtaking.
“Try one.” Marcus lifted a zucchini to her lips.
“Not too bad.” She let her tongue dance across his finger tips before swallowing.
“See, you can cook.” He popped one into his own mouth then started in on his salad.
Charlisse was about to do the same when the smell of the ocean hit her nose and almost knocked her over.
“Oh my goodness. That smell.” She grabbed her napkin to cover her mouth.
She could feel her stomach rumbling and knew that whatever she had eaten today was about to come up. She took a moment to gather herself and was able to push the vomit back down. She didn’t want to throw up, not tonight. Not right now. Everything was too lovely.
“You okay?” Marcus had stood up to check on her.
“Yes, I’m fine. But can we move inside? The smell of the ocean is unsettling my stomach for some reason.”
“Sure.” Marcus motioned to one of the awaiting attendants, who quickly came to pick up their plates.