Seducing the Wolf (4 page)

“I think I do.” Manning waited until his parents were seated at the table before he broke the big news. “I saw Taylor this morning.”

Stan and Prissy froze, staring at him in utter shock.

“Taylor?” his mother whispered. “Taylor
Chastain
?”

Manning nodded.

“Where?” his father asked.

“At a coffee shop downtown.” Manning saw no reason to mention the hotel where he’d spent the night with a woman whose name he could barely recall now.

“What’s she doing in Atlanta?” Prissy asked, breakfast promptly forgotten.

“She’s an artist-in-residence at Emory. She’ll be here for three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Prissy reached over and squeezed Manning’s hand, her eyes filled with hope and excitement. “How did she look?”

Manning smiled quietly. “She looked incredible.”

“Does she seem happy?”

Manning nodded slowly. “She does.”

“That’s good.” Prissy smiled softly as memories flickered in her eyes—painful memories that had haunted them all for years. “I’d love to see her.”

“So would I,” Stan murmured. “That girl was like a daughter to us.”

“The daughter we never had,” Prissy added poignantly.

“I know.” Manning raised his cup to his mouth and took a long sip of the rich coffee, reflecting on how Taylor’s sudden departure had not only left a void in his life, but his family’s as well.

“Why don’t you invite Taylor over for dinner next week?” Prissy suggested. “You know your brothers would be thrilled to see her again.”

“I’m sure they would,” Manning drawled, “but Taylor’s boyfriend might not appreciate her breaking bread with us.”

Prissy arched a brow. “Her boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Manning grumbled, his mood darkening at the thought of Aidan Loring. “He came to Atlanta with her.”

“I see.” Prissy shared a look with Stan.

“But I think he’s leaving town,” Manning added, half to himself. “He said something about catching a flight tomorrow.”

“Oh?” A satisfied gleam filled Prissy’s eyes. “If he’s not here, he can’t very well object to Taylor having dinner with us, now can he?”

Stan chuckled, shaking his head at Manning. “You know your mother’s been hoping and praying that this day would come.”

“I sure have.” Prissy grinned unabashedly, adding thick wedges of French toast and bacon to her husband and son’s plates before she served herself. “We all know it’s no coincidence that Taylor came to Atlanta. Who says God doesn’t answer prayers?”

Manning thought of all the times he’d wondered whether God even heard prayers, let alone answered them.

He’d just been made a believer again.

Well…almost.

As soon as he got to his office, he did a Google search on Taylor’s boyfriend.

The top result took him to the official website of the Deputy Chief of Mission at the U.S. Embassy in Paris. There, right next to a lengthy bio, was Aidan Loring’s photo. Clean-cut, polished smile, reasonably attractive.

Eyes narrowing, Manning perused Loring’s bio. He was a career foreign service officer whose previous overseas assignments included tours at the U.S. embassies in Moscow, Bucharest, Cairo and Dubai. He spoke three languages, gave lectures on public diplomacy and had authored two books on U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East.

On paper he definitely seemed to be Taylor’s type. Smart, educated, accomplished, well traveled. And he was a government man, like her father.

But did any of that mean they were right for each other? Was Aidan Loring the guy Taylor wanted to spend the rest of her life with?

Manning frowned, his gut twisting at the thought of his childhood sweetheart marrying another man, taking his last name, bearing his children.

Suddenly his cell phone rang, interrupting his tortured musings. When he picked it up and saw his great-grandmother’s number, he couldn’t help smiling.

“Hey, Mama Wolf,” he answered affectionately.

“Hey, baby.” Her voice enveloped him like one of her warm, cinnamon-and-rose scented hugs. “I believe you have something to share with me, don’t you?”

Manning’s smile deepened. News traveled fast among the Wolf Pack. “I take it you just spoke to Ma.”

“I did. And she gave me the most
wonderful
news.” Evangeline Wolf’s excitement bubbled through the phone line. “I know your mother would never toy with an old woman’s heart, but I just had to call and hear the news directly from you. So is it true, baby? Is Taylor really in Atlanta?”

“She is,” Manning confirmed. “She’s really here.”

“Oh, thank you, Jesus,” Mama Wolf whispered gratefully. “Thank you, thank you,
thank
you
.”

Manning smiled crookedly. “I think He heard you the first time, Mama.”

She laughed. “Oh, hush. You can never thank the Lord enough for His blessings. And Taylor’s return is most certainly a blessing.”

Or a curse
, Manning thought grimly, glaring at Loring’s picture on his computer screen.

“I can’t wait to see her again,” Mama Wolf enthused. “You know I’ll be there next week when Marcus and Samara return from their honeymoon.” Marcus was Manning’s cousin, who’d recently gotten married. “They’re staying with your uncle Sterling for two weeks before they head back home to D.C. Are you going to invite Taylor to our Fourth of July cookout?”

Manning chuckled. “I don’t know, Mama,” he said, swiveling toward the wall of windows that overlooked downtown Atlanta. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. I just ran into her this morning.”

“Of course. I understand.” There was a pause. “But you
have
to invite her, baby. I insist.”

Manning smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” As if anyone ever refused Mama Wolf, the beloved family matriarch who’d celebrated her ninety-seventh birthday this year.

She explained, “The quote I sent to you this morning was by Benjamin Disraeli, a British Prime Minister and novelist during the 1800s. It’s always been one of my favorite quotes. After the dream I had about you, I felt in my spirit that you had a date with destiny—and it was coming very soon.”

“Well, you were right,” Manning murmured.

“Of course,” Mama Wolf quipped. “I’m always right.”

They both laughed.

Sobering after several moments, Manning quietly confided, “As ecstatic as I am about Taylor being here, I don’t want to get ahead of myself. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and we have a lot of unresolved issues. I don’t even think she planned to look me up while she was in town.”

“Maybe not,” Mama Wolf sagely conceded. “But I want you to think about this. Taylor has never come to Georgia. She’s toured all over the world and has performed in many parts of the United States. But she’s never come to Georgia, and something tells me that was no coincidence. If she’s here now after all these years, maybe that means she’s ready to face the past. Just maybe, precious heart, she’s ready to face
you
.”

Manning was silent, pondering his great-grandmother’s words.

Just then the intercom on his desk buzzed. “Dr. Wolf, your ten o’clock appointment is here,” his secretary informed him.

“Thanks, Larisa.” Stifling a sigh, Manning swiveled away from the windows. “I gotta run, Mama.”

“All right. Just remember what we talked about, and don’t forget to invite Taylor over for the Fourth of July.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Manning promised her. “Look forward to seeing you next week.”

“You too, baby. Mama loves you.”

“Love you too.”

As Manning disconnected the call, his gaze returned to the photo of Taylor’s boyfriend. He frowned, remembering the way Loring had possessively wrapped an arm around Taylor’s waist and led her out of the coffee shop, away from Manning.

Clenching his jaw, he made a phone call to obtain information on Loring’s departing flight.

He hadn’t seen Taylor in over twenty years.

As far as he was concerned, their date with destiny had been delayed long enough.

4

T
aylor’s stomach was twisted into knots as the cab transporting her and Aidan hurtled through the bustling streets of Midtown Atlanta. Their destination was Wolf’s Soul, a world-famous restaurant owned by celebrity chef Michael Wolf—who just
happened
to be Manning’s first cousin.

Of all the places Aidan could have chosen for tonight’s romantic dinner...

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he explained as if he’d read Taylor’s mind—or noticed her death grip on her red leather clutch. “I made the reservations for you weeks ago when you told me you were going to Atlanta for the summer residency. I’d hoped to join you before I left town, but they didn’t have anything available before tonight. I know how much you enjoy Michael Wolf’s cooking show, so I figured you’d want to check out his restaurant while you’re in town. How was I supposed to know you once had a relationship with his cousin? A relationship that apparently ended badly, judging by the way you’ve been acting ever since you saw him.”

When Taylor winced, Aidan was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Taylor interrupted, keeping her voice low in case the cabbie was eavesdropping on their conversation. “It was very thoughtful of you to make reservations at Michael’s restaurant. I’ve always wanted to eat there, so I’m sure we’ll enjoy ourselves.”

Concerned gray eyes searched her face. “If you’re worried about running into Manning again, I’m sure he has better things to do than hang out at his cousin’s restaurant every night.”

Taylor forced a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”

But Aidan’s assurance had done little to quell the anxiety knotting her stomach.

Several moments later, the cab pulled up to a two-story brick-fronted restaurant perched at the corner of Peachtree and Fifth Street. A man posted at the entrance greeted a steady flow of patrons dressed for a night on the town.

“Welcome to Wolf’s Soul,” the cabbie announced to Taylor and Aidan. “This is hands down the best restaurant in Atlanta—hell, the state of Georgia.”

Aidan chuckled dryly. “Does Michael Wolf pay you to say that to tourists?”

The cabbie grinned. “If he did, I’d never tell a soul.”

Aidan laughed, handing over the cab fare. “Do you have any recommendations?”

“Try the stuffed salmon. It’s second to none. But honestly, folks, you can’t go wrong with anything on the menu. Everything’s delicious.” The cabbie winked. “Tell Michael I sent you.”

“Do you think he’s here?” Taylor asked nervously.

“It’s Friday night. If he’s in town, he’s definitely here.”

“Oh,” Taylor said weakly. “Great.”

She and Aidan thanked the friendly driver, then climbed out of the cab.

As they started up the flagstone walk toward the entrance to the restaurant, Aidan slipped an arm around Taylor’s waist and ran an admiring gaze over her. She wore a body-hugging white halter dress with red Christian Louboutin pumps. Her hair was brushed back from her face, the soft ends caressing the bare skin between her shoulder blades.

Aidan smiled at her. “Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?”

“You have,” Taylor said with a small smile, “but a girl can never receive too many compliments.” Especially a girl whose frumpy appearance had once made her the butt of cruel jokes and pranks.

When she and Aidan stepped inside the packed restaurant, they were greeted warmly by the maître d’, who confirmed their reservations before escorting them to their table.

As they followed him, Taylor admired the restaurant’s elegant décor. The dark wood of the interior would have made Sinatra feel right at home, a glass of bourbon in hand. Candles flickered invitingly on the glossy mahogany tables, and soft piano music wafted from a gleaming baby grand. The walls were adorned with framed photographs of Michael Wolf posing with famous actors, musicians, athletes and politicians who’d previously dined at Wolf’s Soul.

Taylor and Aidan were shown to a cozy table in a private corner. Once they were seated, the maître d’ presented them with leather-bound menus and an extensive wine list, which they quietly reviewed until their waiter arrived to take their order.