Seducing the Wolf (15 page)

“Not exactly,” Manning muttered.

“No? I’m sorry to hear that.”

Manning frowned as the old man started the engine and deftly steered out of the narrow space. “You didn’t have to wait for me. I told you I’d catch a cab home.”

“It’s all right. I didn’t mind waiting. What else am I doing?”

Mr. Haley was a retired veteran with three grown children who lived on the West Coast. After losing his wife to a stroke several years ago, he’d been looking for ways to stave off loneliness and keep himself busy when he met Manning, who’d rear ended his vehicle one day as they were waiting at a stop sign. Manning had hopped out of his car to apologize to the old man and make sure he wasn’t injured. He knew he was at fault. He’d been running late to an important meeting, so he’d been driving even more aggressively than usual.

The damage to Mr. Haley’s car had been minimal, and he’d waved off Manning’s suggestion that he get himself checked out at the hospital. He’d sustained bullet and shrapnel wounds during the Vietnam War; he didn’t need medical attention after being in a minor fender bender.

As the two men exchanged insurance information, Mr. Haley had asked Manning if he’d ever considered hiring a driver. He hadn’t. Chauffeurs were for lazy rich guys and pampered socialites. But Mr. Haley had offered his services—and made such a compelling argument for why Manning needed a driver—that he’d ended up hiring him. It turned out to be one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Mr. Haley was a consummate professional, and Manning appreciated the convenience of having someone else at the wheel during the morning rush hour so he could complete paperwork, make phone calls and take care of any pressing business matters.

“I’m really enjoying your brother’s new book,” Mr. Haley remarked conversationally as he navigated out of the crowded parking lot. “It might be his best one yet.”

Manning smiled, staring out the window. “Wait till you find out who the killer is. It’s gonna blow your mind.”

Mr. Haley chuckled. “It always does.”

It had rained earlier that evening. Streetlights flickered along Peachtree Street, reflecting in puddles on the wet road.

As his head began to throb, Manning leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. He’d have a nasty hangover in the morning, but that was nothing new.

“Miss Chastain’s a beautiful young woman,” Mr. Haley quietly observed.

Manning swallowed hard and nodded without speaking.

He could feel Mr. Haley’s eyes on his face, studying him. They’d never spoken about Taylor. They discussed sports, politics, the economy, issues affecting the black community. But they never talked about the two women they had loved and lost. Mr. Haley never questioned Manning’s ritual of ending each work day by listening to Taylor’s “Transcendence.” He kept the song queued up and ready to play as soon as Manning climbed into the backseat, loosened his tie and let his eyes drift closed. He knew not to speak while Manning listened to the exquisite concerto, and when it was over, he instinctively knew when to break the melancholy silence.

By the same token, Manning didn’t have to be told how much Mr. Haley missed his late wife. He could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, could sense the underlying sadness beneath the old man’s smiles. Broken hearts always recognized other broken hearts.

Just then Manning’s cell phone buzzed with an incoming text message.

Slowly opening his eyes, he dug inside his pocket and pulled out the phone.

His heart lurched when he saw that the message was from Taylor.

Thank you for dinner. And the azaleas are beautiful.

As Manning stared at what she’d written, he felt his chest expanding, felt a warmth spreading through his blood that had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d consumed.

Mr. Haley glanced at him. “Is everything all right?”

“Not yet.” A ghost of a smile touched Manning’s mouth. “But I’m hoping it will be.”

12

“
G
ood morning, Dr. Wolf.”

“Mornin’, Larisa,” Manning drawled, leather briefcase swinging at his side as he strode toward his secretary’s desk on Monday morning.

He’d gotten through the rest of the weekend—and the dreaded hangover—by reading and rereading Taylor’s text message, clinging to those nine little words like a hungry disciple savoring every morsel of the Last Supper.

His secretary handed him a neat stack of mail she’d already sorted for him. On top was the latest issue of
Genetic Engineering & Biotechnology News
, a leading industry magazine for biotechnology professionals.

Larisa beamed at him. “Congratulations, boss. We made the list for the second year in a row. Not only that, but we moved up five whole spots.”

“Yeah?” Grinning, Manning flipped right to the page Larisa had tabbed with a blue
Post It
note. He was pleased to see that Wolf Biotech was ranked number five on the magazine’s annual list of Top 25 Biotech Companies. Landing the $60 million contract from the DoD two years ago had raised his company’s profile and sent profits soaring. Since making its initial public offering, Wolf Biotech’s market cap had more than doubled, thanks in large part to investors who’d rewarded the company for successfully bringing new drugs to market.

“Maybe next year we’ll hit number one,” Larisa suggested with a wink.

Manning chuckled. “I’m working on it.”

Larisa grinned, brown eyes twinkling. “I put some calls through to your voice mail. Rich Dolan called to congratulate you—”

“Or sulk,” Manning drawled wryly, noting that his rival’s Boston-based company had slipped to number eleven on the list.

Larisa chuckled before continuing, “A business reporter from the
Journal-Constitution
called to request an interview with you. I told him we’d be in touch soon. And Dan wanted to know if today’s meeting could be moved up half an hour because the team needs more time to go over their updates with you. I checked your schedule and there’s a little wiggle room if you’re amenable to meeting earlier.”

“That’s fine,” Manning agreed, starting toward his office.

“Oh, there’s one more thing.”

Manning paused and glanced back at his secretary.

She looked discomfited. “I hate to bother you—especially after sharing such good news—but that woman, Miss Jeffers, keeps calling. She called twice on Friday and has already called this morning. I told her you’re not available, but she insists on speaking to you.”

Manning frowned at the reminder of the woman he’d left behind at the hotel last week. After the way he’d disappeared on her without saying goodbye, he’d hoped she would take the hint and move on. He should have known better. Just when he’d decided to give up his manwhoring ways, he had to go and have one last hookup with a stalker.

“I put her on hold,” Larisa told him, indicating the blinking light on her phone. “She says she’s going to keep calling until you talk to her.”

Manning shook his head, then heaved a resigned breath. “Put her through.”

“Yes, sir.”

Manning strode down a short hallway and through the double glass doors of his office. Reaching his desk, he set down his mail and briefcase, then picked up the phone. “Hello, Miss Jeffers—”

“
Miss Jeffers?
” she spat indignantly. “So now I’m
Miss Jeffers
to you?”

It was only then that Manning remembered her first name. Lowering himself into his chair, he murmured, “What can I do for you, Violet?”

“For starters, you can apologize for the hit and run you did on me! Do you know how humiliated I was when I woke up in that hotel room and found you gone? Of all the trifling, lowdown, cowardly—”

“You’re right,” Manning grimly conceded, interrupting her diatribe. “I was wrong for sneaking out on you. My mama raised me better than that. Please accept my apology.”

Violet fell abruptly silent. He’d caught her off guard, disarming her.

“Well, I don’t want to be a bitch about it,” she relented after another moment. “Of course I accept your apology. I guess I just don’t understand why you left. I thought we were having such a good time together. Dinner was great, and what we did afterward was…” She trailed off with a naughty chuckle. “Well, let’s just say I’m
more
than ready for an encore.”

Manning grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid that won’t be happening.”

There was a long pause.

“What do you mean?” Her voice was tight.

“I’m not interested in seeing you again, Violet. I’m sorry.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“So you’re just gonna hit it and quit it? Wham, bam, thank you ma’am?”

Manning frowned. “I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a relationship.”

“Oh, yeah, you made it clear,” she said bitterly. “Even before you snuck out on me that morning, you wouldn’t even give me any of your damn phone numbers. If I didn’t know the name of your company, I would have had no way of finding you!”

I wish you hadn’t,
Manning thought darkly.

“Look, I’m not naive,” Violet continued. “I know you have a reputation. I know you’re a player. But I just thought, after we spent the night together…I thought—”

“Hold on.” Covering the receiver with his hand, Manning looked across the room at his secretary, who had appeared in the doorway. “What is it?”

“Mr. Schultz is here for your eight o’clock appointment.”

Manning had nearly forgotten he had an early meeting, but he was relieved and grateful for the bailout. “Thanks, Larisa. Tell him I’ll be with him shortly.”

As she nodded and left, he uncovered the receiver and said to Violet, “Listen, I have to run. I’m sorry this didn’t work out—”

“It still can,” she insisted.

“No, it can’t,” Manning countered gently but firmly. “Look, you’re a beautiful woman who deserves a man who will appreciate everything you have to offer. Unfortunately, I can’t be that man for you, so let’s not waste any more of each other’s time.”

“But—”

“Take care, Violet.” He hung up on her and pushed out a long, deep breath. Not taking any chances, he called down to the security desk and informed the guard to place Violet Jeffers on his equivalent of a No Fly list, which would prevent her from getting past the lobby if she ever showed up there.

“Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”

Manning paused a beat. “If Taylor Chastain stops by—”
It could happen, right?
“—please send her right up.”

“Absolutely, Dr. Wolf.”

“Thanks.” Manning clicked off, then buzzed his secretary. “Send in Mr. Schultz.”

Three hours later, after wrapping up his third meeting of the day and escorting his guests to the elevator, Manning headed back to his office to return some calls. He’d just removed his suit jacket and reached for the phone when he heard a brisk knock on his door.

He glanced up to see Saul Rutledge, the company’s outgoing general counsel, standing in the open doorway. Average height and slim with thinning dark hair and ruddy features, Saul was leaving Wolf Biotech at the end of the summer to relocate to England with his family. Since announcing his resignation, he’d been screening and interviewing candidates to replace him.

“Got a minute?” he asked Manning.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I wanted to introduce you to one of our finalists.”

“Cool,” Manning agreed. “Come on in.”

He got to his feet as Saul entered the room followed by a tall, striking biracial woman in a fitted red skirt suit that accentuated her svelte figure. She had a cascade of dark brown hair, olive skin and hazel eyes that gleamed with amusement as she stared at Manning, who had frozen in shock.

Saul cheerfully began the introductions. “Manning, I’d like you to meet—”

“Caitlyn,” Manning finished, staring incredulously at the woman.

Her red lips curved into an intimate smile. “Hello, Manning.”

Saul divided a surprised glance between them. “You two know each other?”

Manning nodded, murmuring, “Ms. Spencer and I go way back.”