Seducing the Wolf (18 page)

“She left me alone that day and the next. No violin lessons, no practice. She didn’t even
mention
Paganini. At first I was shocked by her silence, then confused. I couldn’t believe how easily she’d accepted my decision to quit playing. And by the end of that second day, I knew that wasn’t even what I wanted. So that evening I pulled out my violin and my sheet music, and I quietly began practicing. My mother came into my room, sat down beside me and watched me struggle my way through the concerto. After about an hour, when tears of frustration were rolling down my face, she finally broke her silence to explain why she’d left me alone for the past two days. She said she wanted me to realize that I wasn’t playing the violin because
she
forced me to; I was playing because I loved to. She told me I had a gift, and I shouldn’t forfeit that gift at the first sign of adversity. And then she quoted something to me that I’ve never forgotten: ‘Life’s challenges aren’t supposed to paralyze you, they’re supposed to help you discover who you are.’ ”

Danisha swallowed visibly as she stared at Taylor. “Wow,” she whispered. “That was powerful, Miss Chastain.”

“Yes, it was. It was powerful
and
empowering.” Taylor smiled softly at the young violinist. “I’ll share something else with you, Danisha. Something I hope you’ll remember years from now. My music career has taken me to many places and brought many different people into my life. Over time, one thing I’ve found to be true is that the people who love you the most are the ones who will demand the best from you. The people who don’t push you either don’t care about you, or they’re afraid of being surpassed by you. Once you know and understand who truly has your back, nothing can ever keep you from soaring.”

Just as they broke for lunch that afternoon, Taylor’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her handbag and smiled when she saw her father’s number on the screen.

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted him warmly.

“Hey there, angel.” The sound of Turner Chastain’s gravelly baritone always made her miss him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Taylor paused, wondering if he knew where she was. Was that why he was calling? To pick up where her mother’s lecture had left off?

Like Elyse, Turner had never forgiven Manning for deserting Taylor and breaking her heart. Though he and his ex-wife rarely saw eye to eye on anything, one issue that united them was their equal contempt for Manning. If Turner found out that Taylor was in Atlanta, he would be furious with her.

Taylor frowned, instinctively bracing herself for a confrontation. But when her father spoke again, there was no anger or disapproval in his voice. “How are you enjoying your summer so far? Do you miss being on tour?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“No surprise there. You’ve always been a workaholic.”

Taylor grinned. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Her father laughed. As an FBI agent, he’d worked long hours and had traveled frequently. Now that he was retired with a healthy pension, he still kept himself pretty busy by serving as a consultant and lecturer at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia.

“So what have you been up to, kiddo? Writing any new music?”

“Of course,” Taylor said, smiling. “You know I’ve always got a song in my head.”

“I know.” She could hear the answering smile in his voice. “I brag about you all the time. Not only are you an accomplished violinist, but you also compose music. I can’t tell you enough how damn proud you make me.”

His words spread warmth through Taylor. “Thank you, Dad,” she said softly.

“I’m just speaking the truth, angel. No father could ask for a more amazing daughter.”

Taylor’s smile was bittersweet. She’d always been a good girl, hadn’t she? She’d gotten straight As at school, performed well at her recitals and looked after her younger brother without complaining. She’d never broken the rules—never even questioned them. She’d been the perfect daughter. The perfect angel.

Until she wasn’t.

“Did your mother tell you that Tru came home early from Iraq?”

“She did,” Taylor replied. “I forgot to ask her how he looked. I hope he didn’t lose as much weight as he did when he was in Afghanistan several years ago. He promised me he wouldn’t.”

“Don’t worry. He kept his promise. He looks good—none the worse for wear. But don’t forget he was in Iraq in the capacity of a commanding officer, so he’s not on the front lines anymore. Anyway, he and I were talking about flying out there to see you.”

Taylor froze. “You mean…in Paris?”

Her father chuckled. “You living somewhere else I should know about?”

“No, no. Of course not. I just…” Taylor trailed off, floundering. She hated lying to her dad, and she’d never been particularly good at it. It was hard to get over on a seasoned FBI agent who’d been trained to detect bullshit. “It’s just that, well—”

“You don’t want us to come for a visit?”

“Of course I do,” she hastened to assure him. “You know I’d love to see you and Tru—”

“We’d love to see you too, baby girl. Tru wanted to surprise you, but with your busy schedule, I figured we’d better not take any chances by showing up unannounced. Paris isn’t exactly around the corner.”

“No, it isn’t,” Taylor murmured weakly.

“Tru’s on leave for the next two weeks. So we were thinking about flying out there on Friday.”

“Friday?” Taylor croaked. “
This
Friday?”

“Yeah. How does that sound?”

“Um, actually”— she thought fast —“you guys don’t have to come all the way to Paris.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because I’m coming to D.C. this weekend.”

“You are?” her father asked in surprise.

“Yes. Mom’s having a dinner party,” Taylor explained, “and she wanted me and Aidan to be there. Once she told me that Tru was home early, I knew I had to come. But it was supposed to be a surprise, so—”

“Don’t worry. I won’t say a word to your brother.” Turner’s voice was warm with pleasure. “This is wonderful news, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you again. It’s been too long. Over a year.”

“I know.” Taylor smiled wistfully. “I can’t wait to see all of you.”

“I know you’re staying with your mom, but I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“Sounds good. I’ll call you later this week with my flight details.” She glanced up when Danisha suddenly appeared in the doorway. As the girl opened her mouth to speak, Taylor hastily muted her phone.

“Sorry to interrupt, Miss Chastain, but everyone wants to know if you’re gonna join us for lunch?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be right there.”

Danisha smiled shyly and left.

Returning to her phone, Taylor said, “I have to run, Dad. It’s time for lun— dinner,” she quickly amended, remembering that she was supposed to be in a different time zone. “I’ll call you back in a few days.”

“I’ll be waiting. Bye, angel.”

Taylor hung up, gnawing her lower lip.

After another moment, she began typing a text message to Aidan. She hadn’t spoken to him since last night when he’d called to remind her that he would be out of pocket today attending the leadership summit and interviewing foreign policy experts for his book.

She wrote:
Hey, baby. Hope your day’s going well. If you happen to speak to my father, please don’t mention that I’m in Atlanta. I want to surprise him and my brother when I show up there this weekend.

It was a half truth, of course.

But compared to the lies she’d already told him, it was a harmless one.

Or so she assured herself.

14

W
hen Taylor left the university later that afternoon, she had every intention of returning to her hotel. Once back in her room, she would kick off her sandals, put on some Nina Simone and leisurely unwind with a glass of wine until she was ready for dinner.

That was the plan.

So when she climbed into the taxi and the cabbie asked her where she was headed, she opened her mouth to tell him the name of her hotel. But what came out instead was, “Wolf Biotech.”

She must have whispered the words, because the cabbie repeated for clarification, “Wolf Biotech?”

“Yes.” She faltered. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the address.”

“No problem. I know exactly where it is.”

Taylor nodded and settled back against the seat for the ride into downtown Atlanta. Her stomach was a riotous jumble of nerves. What she was doing was the very definition of insanity. She wasn’t just playing with fire. She was brazenly charging into a five-alarm conflagration.

After crossing the line with Manning on Saturday, she’d vowed to stay as far away from him as possible. Not just for her sake, but for the sake of her relationship with Aidan. She’d betrayed him. Once could be rationalized as a careless mistake, a lapse in judgment, an aberration. Once could even be forgiven. But she had to confess her sins in order to receive forgiveness. And she hadn’t confessed because she didn’t want to hurt Aidan.

And she was a coward.

“...the Wolf Pack is practically a Southern institution,” the cabbie’s friendly voice penetrated Taylor’s thoughts, jarring her back to the present.

Looking out the window, she saw that they had left the suburban enclave of Druid Hills and were now diving into the maelstrom of downtown traffic. She took in the sights and sounds of the sprawling metropolis dominated by retail chains and commercial office buildings. The bustle and flow of rush hour traffic reminded her of being back in Paris.

“Two of the most prominent companies in Atlanta are owned by a Wolf,” the cabbie continued. “Wolf Biotech—where we’re headed—and Wolf and Associates across town, which is one of the top law firms in the country. If you get hungry, you can mosey on over to Michael Wolf’s restaurant for the best soul food in the South. If you’re in the mood for some great jazz, check out Montana Wolf in concert at Philips Arena—if you can score a ticket. Feel like curling up with a good book? Head to any bookstore in town and you can find shelves of novels by Madd Wolf—our very own Stephen King. On any given Sunday during football season, you can find Mason Wolf tearing up the gridiron at the Georgia Dome. Turn on your evening news and you’re liable to see Fire Chief Wolf being interviewed for something or other. Folks say his son, Magnum, is a chip off the old block, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he also ends up running the fire department someday. And then get this. Two years ago the chief’s brother, a retired homicide detective, helped the police crack one of his old cold cases. The story was all over CNN and he was hailed a hero. His nephew’s supposed to be writing a book about the case.” The cabbie chuckled, shaking his head. “Is it any wonder the mayor awarded the whole family the keys to the city earlier this year?”

“Really? That’s wonderful,” Taylor said warmly, enjoying the man’s colorful summation of the family who had always held a special place in her heart.

“Like I said, the Wolf name carries weight around here.” The cabbie slowed to a red light and pointed out the window. “See what I mean?”

Taylor’s eyes widened at the sight of a gigantic billboard that featured the members of the Wolf Pack. In the group photo, elder statesmen Sterling and Stanton Wolf flanked their sons at opposite ends while Prissy Wolf sat in the center, a queen on her throne. Sterling, Michael, Manning, Montana, Marcus and Maddox wore impeccably tailored dark suits while Stanton and Magnum looked equally swoon-worthy in their formal dress uniforms. Sporting his Falcons football uniform and a deliciously devious grin, Mason squatted beside his mother with his helmet carried loosely between his strong, muscular thighs.

THE
CITY
OF
ATLANTA
PROUDLY
SALUTES
THE
WOLF
PACK
proclaimed the bold caption above the picture.

Observing Taylor’s awestruck expression in the rearview mirror, the cabbie laughed. “I told my wife that thing is a major traffic hazard. I’ve literally seen women slam on their brakes just to gawk at the fellas on that billboard.”