“Spoken like a true accountant,” he said, smiling. “Yes. A few times, but that’s something we strive to avoid.”
Lamar enjoyed the easygoing shared domesticity as he and Nydia cleaned up the kitchen. It was a task he hadn’t performed since becoming a widower. Valerie would prepare dinner and he’d always volunteered to clean up afterward. It was their time to talk about what had occurred during the day or what she’d experienced when returning home for a few days or a week of jetting to different cities. Other than sharing a bed it was the only time when they were able to spend quality time together.
“Did you enjoy working for Wakefield Hamilton?” he asked Nydia.
He’d asked because he wanted to know if Nydia used the excuse she didn’t want children because she preferred career to motherhood. It was only after Valerie gave birth to Kendra and took a two-year maternity leave that she’d admitted that if she’d had a choice she wouldn’t have become a mother, because she loved being a flight attendant. His late wife was always restless and sometimes short-tempered when she wasn’t in the air.
“I loved working for them,” Nydia admitted. “Firstly, they paid off my student loans, and offered me a phenomenal starting salary with incredible perks and benefits, and secondly I was assigned the responsibility of scrutinizing the accounts of our foreign clients.”
“Did you ever uncover any shady transactions?” he asked.
Nydia took a saucer from him and stacked it on the lower shelf. “Once, but I was never given the chance to expand my investigation.”
“What happened?”
“When I alerted my supervisor of my suspicion the customer was using the bank to launder money using one of our depositor’s real estate properties, he assigned it to another accountant who he claimed had more experience investigating fraud. It was BS. They hired me because I have a bachelor’s degree in forensic accounting and an MBA with a concentration in taxation.”
“So, you’re like that little dude that sharpened his pencil and took down Al Capone for income tax evasion.”
Nydia bumped him with her hip. “Don’t knock us pencil pushers. We’re the ones who find the evidence to indict crooks for embezzlement, corruption, and other financial crimes.”
“Have you ever considered working for the feds?”
“I’ve thought about applying to the FBI as an accounting and finance special agent.”
Lamar stared at Nydia out of the corner of his eye. “What made you change your mind?”
She smiled. “My family doesn’t need another cop. My father retired from the NYPD as a sergeant, and my brother is also a sergeant who just passed the test to become a lieutenant.”
“That’s a lot of shields and automatic handguns.”
“Word,” she drawled, smiling.
“After dinner I’m going to drop you off here and then check into a hotel near the Thruway.”
“You don’t have to do that. I have a spare bedroom where you can spend the night. Go and open the door opposite the bathroom. It used to be Tonya’s daughter’s room. She decorated it like a studio apartment, but I use it as an in-home office. The convertible sofa has a firm, full-sized mattress that’s a dream to sleep on.”
Lamar dried his hands on a terrycloth towel. He had planned to check into a hotel in the Bronx rather than at the airport because he planned to spend more time with Nydia before his return flight.
He opened the door and smiled. Nydia was right. The bedroom was more welcoming than a hotel with the off-white sofa covered with Haitian cotton that converted into a bed. A desktop computer and printer sat on a computer table. Bookcases packed with books and magazines spanned one wall, while another was decorated with framed movie posters and photos of movie and recording artists. A drop-leaf table held a flat-screen television and audio equipment. His gaze lingered on a large white area alpaca rug covering the gleaming waxed parquet floor. It was a space that beckoned him to come in to sleep, study, or relax. After walking across the room, he opened a closet door to find shelves and a rod to hang and store clothing.
He returned to the kitchen to find Nydia cleaning the stovetop. “I’ll take it.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Good. As soon as I’m finished here I’m going to change and we can go for our walk.”
“While you’re changing I’m going to unpack my carry-on.”
Lamar didn’t want to congratulate himself—not just yet. He’d taken a risk flying up to New York on an impulse, not knowing whether Nydia would appreciate his abrupt intrusion into her life. However, he’d been truthful when he told her how much seeing the distress on her face and hearing the pain in her voice when he’d called her tugged at his heart. And if he were truly honest with himself he would acknowledge that he wanted her the way a man wanted a woman.
He knew he’d shocked her when he’d admitted he’d been sexually aroused seeing her for the first time. That hadn’t happened to him since the onset of puberty, when his body would betray him at the most inopportune times, and he had to either conceal the bulge in his groin with his hands or sit and wait for his erection to go down. Lamar could have never imagined that at thirty-eight just a single glance directed at an unknown woman had caused him to lose control of his body. He’d wanted to blame Nydia for returning the long, penetrating stare, which he interpreted as meaning she was just as enthralled with him as he’d been with her. It was as if his ego had gone into overdrive.
Even now that she had invited him to stay over at her place, he found it difficult to get a read on her. Lamar didn’t find Nydia uptight or tense with him, and for that he was grateful. She had been through enough with her jackass of an ex-boyfriend so he knew it would take time for her to trust a man again.
He emptied the bag of several changes of underwear, a pair of charcoal-gray slacks, a light blue dress shirt, and a silk and wool-blend gray jacket, leather toiletry bag, and a pair of black loafers in a drawstring shoe bag. Lamar had gotten used to traveling light, a practice that had come from visits to construction sites that required an overnight stay.
The cooler fall weather in New York City had come as welcome respite for Lamar from the unrelenting heat in his hometown. The past two summers were unusually hot, and scientists were blaming it on global warming, and Lamar had begun to agree with them. The daytime temperatures coupled with the humidity made it dangerous to remain outdoors for any appreciable length of time. Tourists and locals alike were carrying umbrellas to shade themselves from the blistering rays of the sun or sought shelter indoors until the daytime heat abated. The nighttime temperatures were in the mid-eighties, and the only saving grace was the absence of sun.
Lamar put away his clothes and then brushed his teeth, a ritual he’d developed from childhood at the insistence of his father. Dr. Abraham Pierce had become the local go-to orthodontist for children needing braces.
