Bernice accompanied Marcus to the front desk. They talked about what they would focus on the next day. Reaching the desk their conversation was interrupted.
“Marcus!”
He jerked to attention scowling as he looked toward the voice. Bernice followed his gaze to see a lithe, brunette waving and smiling. She wore an elegant ensemble: jacket, blouse and skirt, which no doubt bore a prestigious fashion label. Everything about her spoke of privilege. The woman strutted across the admissions area as if she owned it. Reaching Marcus she wrapped an arm around his and tried to kiss his cheek.
Marcus shrugged her off and avoided her ruby lips. The last thing he wanted was a lip print on his cheek. Glaring at her he said, “What are you doing here?”
“Why the cold shoulder, Marcus?” Elizabeth asked.
