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Angel is being transported to my friend Boss’s nearby estate. He’s covered in tattoos, including a set of angel wings on his face, but when it comes to animals, he’s as soft as butter that’s been left out on the kitchen counter in the summer. He and his wife, Ashely, are animal lovers, they even own a dog rescue they run on their property.
They’ll take care of Angel until we’re settled in the Village. Lindy was leery of the plan, but after a phone conversation with Ashely, she felt reassured enough to allow it. Lindy even trusted me enough to let me be the one to carry the basket to the transport van.
Which leaves Lindy and me to check into the hotel alone.
Well, other than the team of black-clothed bodyguards that meet us on the ground. They hover nearby as we walk up the steps to the front door of the hotel. I’m used to them, but Lindy’s eyes continue to flit over toward them every few minutes as we stride through the massive lobby.
I lean down, reassuring her. “They’re harmless, I promise.”
“Let me guess,” she says with a smile. “They don’t bite, but they spank?”
I give a shrug. “They may have been known to swat a few naughty bottoms from time to time.” My words make a pretty blush rise up her cheekbones.
The concierge, a tall, striking woman with shorn hair greets us with a bright, “Welcome to the Mark Hotel! We’re so happy to have you again, Mr. Bachman.” She introduces herself to Lindy. “My name is Naomi. I know Mr. Bachman is familiar with our hotel, but may I give you both the tour?”
“Of course,” Lindy accepts. “Thank you very much.”
Naomi wears a large gold necklace resting at her collarbone and a brightly colored sheer robe that flows behind her as she briskly walks ahead of us. The outfit looks stunning against her complexion.
“She’s gorgeous,” Lindy whispers to me, totally in awe of the commanding woman. “And this place… it’s amazing. I can’t believe we get to stay here.”
I glance around the lobby, having walked through it at least a dozen times, really taking note of it for the first time.
Naomi waves an elegant hand through the air, pointing toward the heavy furniture that’s arranged throughout the sleek lobby. “As you can see, we’ve gone the extra mile to provide old-world comfort with the modern edge you’ve come to expect from a five-star hotel.”
On the way to the elevator, we breeze by the bar, its glass walls backlit a soft, neon yellow, liquor bottles on display, lined up across clear glass shelves. Red carpet and a red lacquered bar are offset with spotted black-and-white fabric resembling the hide of a cow.
“Oh, that’s super cute,” Lindy says. “I love the décor.”
Naomi glances over at the bar. “We have the Mark Bar here, as well as restaurants for on-site dining headed by chef Jean-Georges. Please feel free to order anything you’d like up to your room. Service technically ends at one a.m., but of course for you, Mr. Bachman,” her gaze roves over my face as she smiles, “there is no restriction on when you may order.”
“Thank you. We appreciate it.” I reach down, grabbing Lindy’s hand in mine. Lindy shoots me a grateful look, clearly excited but overwhelmed by the luxury of the hotel.
A staff member wearing a red sweater with the white crest of the hotel on the breast holds a button to keep the tall gold elevator doors open for us. Naomi gestures for us to go first but I wait till both ladies are on the elevator before I board last.
While we take the long ride to the top, Naomi fills us in on the details of the suite we’ll be staying in. “The penthouse is ten thousand square feet, twenty-five-hundred of which is a rooftop terrace overlooking Central Park as well as the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There are five bedrooms, four fireplaces, six bathrooms, two powder rooms, and two wet bars. The living room—which can be transformed into a full-sized grand ballroom—has twenty-six-foot-high ceilings, a fireplace, and an adjacent wet bar which we’ve taken the liberty of stocking with all your favorites, Mr. Bachman.”
Lindy narrows her gaze, giving me what seems like a possessive look. “You’ve stayed here before. With other women?”
“Yes, but never with anyone as beautiful as you,” I say, hoping to appease her.
I’ve slept in the penthouse maybe a dozen times. Whenever I’ve needed the company of a woman, someone I met out at dinner, or danced with at Gotcha’s. Someone who was down for a good time, but never one I’d be bringing back to the Village.
All lovely women, but none as pretty or as sweet and innocent as Lindy.
“Hmm…” Lindy says, giving me a little sniff followed by a tight glance.
“What?” I say.
“Oh, nothing.”
Why does the look she gives me send a wave of guilt through me?
Ever the professional, Naomi keeps her face emotionless but can’t hide the sparkle of amusement in her gaze. “I have to vouch for Mr. Bachman, Miss—”
“Lindy.”
“Miss Lindy. I hope I’m not overstepping but I did see you are wearing an engagement ring. Congratulations.”
