“Miranda, need any help?”
Miranda jumped.
The man stood beside her. He frowned at her surprise. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. They told me that’s your name.”
Miranda suddenly felt extremely conscious of her damp clothes. If only I could brush my hair! Inwardly, she was surprised at herself. Since when do I care about my appearance? “Yes, I’m Miranda Okafor, your designated cook for the day.”
His eyes locked on hers. “I’m sorry for putting you through all this. You probably didn’t expect to be here now, going to all this effort.”
Miranda fought the urge to tug at her hair. “I’m sorry for barking at you earlier. I know that’s a hungry crowd out there. Ben would probably eat an old shoe if you placed it on a dish.”
He laughed at her remark. “You seem to know them well, and they like you, too.”
“I used to be one of them till someone saved me.” Miranda snapped her mouth but it was too late. The words were out before she’d realized what she was saying.
He stared at her in surprise. “I’d like to hear that story someday.”
Miranda stiffened. I bet you would. It would be an amusing anecdote to pass around his high-society friends. True, he didn’t sound condescending. But what did she know about him really? She didn’t even know his name.
As if reading her thoughts, he cleared his throat. “My name is Wolfe Hawkins.”
Something clicked in Miranda’s brain. Donated food…working in the area? “Hawkins? As in… Hawkins Pharmaceuticals?”
He nodded. “Guilty.”
“My assistant manager was just talking about you this morning.”
His eyes widened in mock-alarm. “I didn’t date her, did I?”
“No! She suggested I come to you for assistance. There’s this building…” She trailed off. If she wanted Hawkins Pharmaceutical to take her seriously, she had to do this the right way.
“A building?” Wolfe prompted.
Miranda met his gaze and shook her head. “This isn’t the time or the place.” She really wasn’t sure it would work anyway. Asking help from someone like him made her feel too exposed…too vulnerable. She’d already let slip more than she wanted.
“Tomorrow then. My office?” He whipped out a card and scribbled on the back. “Here’s my card and phone number in case you get lost.”
Miranda stared at him.
Wolfe pressed the card into her hand, “It sounds like a business proposition. I’m always open to those. ” He glanced toward the dining room. “I think there’s a hungry horde waiting to be fed.”
***
Why can’t I stop thinking about her? Wolfe lay in the master bed of his ritzy residential condo in the heart of Manhattan, his silk sheets a crumpled mess. Usually, he dozed off in a snap. But tonight, the struggle to sleep was real. It was like wrestling an octopus.
Miranda... For what had to be the hundredth time that night, his first glimpse of her flashed through his mind. He saw her body freeze as she thought the car would hit her, the relief written all over her face when it didn’t, and her smile—her glorious, larger than life smile.
Seeing her... It was like I’ve been blind for so long and am seeing for the first time. She’s so beautiful—so determined. Wolfe remembered how she’d argued with his men over the food. Gutsy as hell. His smile softened as he remembered how Miranda had sat down with the homeless to eat, greeting them by name. She really cares for those people.
The same couldn’t be said about his intentions. Wolfe frowned. He’d offered to bring her home, suggesting he buy her a drink as a thank you for the inconvenience he’d caused. Instead, she’d turned him down with a polite but firm refusal.
That’s a first. Maybe that was why it was so hard to get her out of my head? She’s not even my type — or is she? Dark hair and brown eyes that flashed like obsidian when angry. Passionate. Wolfe wondered how that passion would translate to the bedroom, and caught himself. Really, Hawkins? Really?
A casual hook-up felt wrong. One look from her and he’d found himself sharing his suspicions the food was spoiled. He lowered his guard and placed the company in danger. Something inside said he could trust her, even capitulating to her demand that he explain his actions to the crowd. No one commands me that way. But it had been the right call, and they’d averted a crisis—together. I need to know more about her.
I’ll see her tomorrow. She’ll show up. She has to... unless she was already having second thoughts. He might not see her again--
No. I have to see her again. Wolfe sat up. He glanced at the bedside clock. It was 3:45 in the morning. Too late or too early, he didn’t care. He grabbed his cell phone and pressed a number. It didn’t remain unanswered.
“Simms. I want an extensive dossier on someone.” Wolfe’s heart pounded. He’d never done anything like what he was doing now. It was as if he was possessed. The desire to learn more about the mysterious Miranda Okafor burned. “Where she grew up, where she went to school, friends, relatives, medical records…what she had for breakfast. You get the picture? Her name is Miranda. Miranda Okafor.”
Chapter Four
Wolfe paced his office floor like a caged animal unable to keep his thoughts from straying back to the events of the night before—and a pair of eyes that burned hot and bright.
I have a company to save, dammit! Focusing his thoughts on the tainted tablets and the possibility of corporate sabotage helped erase the image of Miranda. Have I become too complacent? Maybe I need to review our process for outsourcing... He opened the laptop in front of him, scrolling through the tabs to the report from the food company.
Against his will the events at the Center crept back. Only one thing had stopped the debacle from turning into outright disaster — or rather, one person. Miranda. A series of conflicting emotions ran through him. He couldn’t wait for her to arrive. He was afraid she wouldn’t. What does she think of me? Will she come? No—she has to!
Wolfe started. He stared at the screen in front of him. He’d reached the bottom of the document without taking in a single word. This is bad.
There was a knock at his door. Jenna, his secretary, peeped around his door. “Am I interrupting?”
“What is it?” He asked brusquely.
“Mr. Simpson called, demanding for a ten-o’clock appointment.”
Wolfe reined his irritation. Anything ‘Bruce’ was always bad news in his books. “Do I have a ten-o’clock appointment?”
Jenna shook her head. “Unfortunately, your schedule is clear.”
“Send him in when he shows up. Also, I gave Simms a special assignment. The moment he arrives, he gets top priority. Is that clear?”
Jenna was plainly curious, but she nodded. “As glass.”
She turned, giving Wolfe ample chance to notice that her tight skirt hugged her waistline in exactly the right way. Jenna was an attractive woman, but she could have shown up to work in sackcloth, and he wouldn’t have cared. She was a first-class secretary, adept at handling even the most difficult of requests.
No, it wasn’t Jenna’s charms that caught his attention, but—
Wolfe caught himself sharply. At this rate, I’ll never get any work done. He opened the preliminary reports of the investigative team, and started reading.
After some time, Wolfe closed the file. It was starting to look like his hunch about a corporate sabotage was correct. But who was the culprit?
“Bring me a cup of coffee.”
The familiar voice of Bruce outside his office jarred Wolfe from his thoughts. Bruce had arrived, and from the sound of things, was already throwing his weight around. He opened the door and looked out. His eyes narrowed.
Jenna stood her face professionally blank as she made her way toward the office kitchenette.
Bruce watched her go, his eyes lingering on her breasts. “This time, make sure it’s black with one sugar. The last time, it tasted like shit,” he barked.
Wolfe felt a spike o
f fury. This was typical of Bruce – snapping at underlings to feed his own ego. “No need, Jenna,” he contradicted. “Mr. Simpson won’t be staying long enough to drink it.” He waved his hand, indicating that Bruce should enter his office.
Bruce jumped. Wolfe could see sweat forming on the man’s forehead. He mustered a smarmy smile, coming toward Wolfe with his hand out. “Wolfe, my boy. Didn’t see you there.”
Wolfe looked at him coldly, ignoring his outstretched hand. “I’m a busy man. I don’t have all day, Bruce.”
He sat at his desk conscious of Bruce fidgeting in the chair facing Wolfe’s desk. Wolfe reckoned that Bruce disliked him almost as much as he did Bruce. He had a nominal position on the board, but to hear Bruce talk about it, he was barely avoiding death from overwork.
Bruce cleared his throat. He shifted the chair, making a loud noise as it scraped across the floor.
“Well?”
“Great morning, Wolfe. Pleasant weather for this time of year, isn’t it?” Bruce smiled urbanely.
Wolfe did not return the smile. “I don’t have time for pleasantries.”
Bruce nodded. “You’re a man of business. So am I. I want to get back to the company. I was thinking of offshore research for potential sites where we can establish company offices. Hawaii, the Maldives, the Bahamas... Places like that.”
Wolfe's face remained set except for a slight flaring of his nostrils. “We have a Marketing and Research division that does that. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
Bruce blanched, tugging at his tie. “Well- I-err- I am aware we haven’t established our presence in those places.”
“Don’t bother. Those places are vacation spots. We are in the pharmaceutical business, not tourism.”
“But spreading into other locations could really grow the Hawkins name.”
Was the man for real? “The Hawkins name is in the list of The Top Ten Corporations in America. We don’t need to grow the name.”
Bruce sighed. “Alright, Wolfe. I’ll level with you. I didn’t really think my plan through. I’m just eager to show Diane — and you — that I can contribute something to the company... that I can build something I can be proud of. Just like your father did.”
Wolfe’s eyes flashed. Bruce had made a serious miscalculation. He wasn’t going to use pretended loyalty to Wolfe’s father to manipulate him. “I believe you had that chance after my dad passed away. You ran the company together with my mom. Didn’t you bring the company to the brink of bankruptcy?”
“Why, you ungrateful snot!” Bruce leapt to his feet. “You owe me! You were only able to graduate from your precious Cambridge because I ran the company in your absence. I stayed by your mom’s side while her son was halfway across the globe. The least you can do is give me some recognition. You are indebted to me, and don’t you forget it!”
Wolfe stared the man down. “Yes, I remember exactly how indebted I am to you each month when I get your credit card statement.”
Bruce paled. He opened his mouth to protest.
But Wolfe wasn’t done. “I have been paying my debt — the company’s debt — to you since the day you married my mother. So don’t you dare speak to me about indebtedness!” Wolfe took a deep breath. “But I have been thinking about your role within the company. I agree that you should have more responsibility and I have a position to offer you.”
Bruce looked up. A cunning expression plastered his face as he sat back in the armchair. “Tell me more.”
“I’m planning an outreach program targeting the impoverished of New York. It involves liaising with feeding centers all over the city. I need someone to visit poor neighborhoods and determine who needs help the most.” Wolfe nodded. “It would involve plenty of travel across the city, and lots of socializing. That should be right up your alley.”
Bruce jumped to his feet. His cheeks purpled, and a vein throbbed violently in his temple. He sputtered, too angry at first to talk. “Why, you son of a bitch! If you think I will ever associate myself with...with those people…”
Wolfe stood up, meeting his stepfather’s glare with a steely gaze of his own. “I thought so. Just go back to your pathetic life at the country club. I’m sure you will find other opportunities to abuse the Hawkins wealth. There must be some degree of satisfaction in being regarded as a Hawkins mistress.”
Bruce stomped to the door. “I’ll show you! I’ll show you!” He slammed the door behind him.
Wolfe sat at his desk. He felt a slight twinge of guilt. He hated upsetting Diane... But it couldn’t be helped. Bruce’s antics cost the company enough without subsidizing his permanent vacation. Besides, I have a real threat to deal with. Opening his laptop, Wolfe summoned the e-mail address of the head of the investigations team, and started typing up his recommendations.
***
As Miranda listened to the phone, her heart sank. “You can’t be sick! Just yesterday you were telling me you were as healthy as a horse--remember?”
“I’m sorry,” Lexi croaked. “I guess I jinxed it. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Miranda bit her lip. She couldn’t stay mad at Lexi. While she’d suspect anyone else of playing hooky to get a three-day weekend, her assistant relished their busy Friday rush hour almost as much as Miranda did. “You’re sure it's nothing serious?”
“Just a bum stomach. I’ll be fine,” Lexi assured her.
She definitely did not sound good. But Lexi’s non-appearance created another problem for Miranda. The restaurant was already two staff down. She’d been counting on Lexi to step in while she paid a visit to Hawkins Pharmaceutical. Miranda looked down at the card she held. Looks like my luck has run out...
Suddenly the memory of Wolfe, leaning forward as he listened to the story Ben told him jumped into her mind. The man’s handsome face was alight with interest, and he nodded as if he understood where Ben was coming from. Impossible! Miranda remembered the crisp lines of Wolfe’s obviously tailored suit and the staff jumping to attention at his slightest order. There’s no way a man like that knows anything about hardship. But she couldn’t forget the kindness in his eyes.
If you don’t go, a treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind, you’ll never see him again. Miranda flushed. “No. I have to do this. It’s for the soup kitchen.” If he assists me and agrees to act as guarantor, the bank will release the loan. The lease will be mine. The fact that the thought of seeing Wolfe again sent a jolt of warmth through her entire body had nothing to do with this at all.
“Do what?”
Lexi’s voice gave Miranda a start. She’d forgotten the other woman was still on the phone. “I ran into Wolfe Hawkins last night—of Hawkins Pharmaceuticals. He told me to stop by his office today.”
“Oh, my God! Miranda, it’s a sign!” Lexi sounded excited. “You have to go! I’ll—”
“You’ll stay at home and recover,” Miranda ordered. “Leave this to me.” She hung up before her assistant could argue any further.
Miranda rolled up her sleeves. Time to get to work. If she was to have any chance of making it to Hawkins Pharmaceuticals before they closed, she needed to do the work of three people. She lifted her chin proudly. “Piece of cake.” After all, compared to feeding last night’s hungry crowd, the Friday lunch rush was nothing!
But as Miranda set to work in the kitchen, she couldn’t help a lingering feeling of unease. Was she doing this for the soup kitchen — or the chance to see Wolfe again?
***
Back at the penthouse office of Hawkins Pharmaceuticals, Wolfe glanced at the clock. The afternoon was fast disappearing and there had been no sign of Miranda. He tried to work, but his irritation towards his stepfather simmered. As he’d calmed down, he’d recognized Bruce posed the worst kind of potential problem. A phone call from his distraught mother asking about the meeting with Bruce had not eased matters.
If only he hadn’t wormed himself into the family. Wolfe frowned, remembering his mother’s words about her share of th
e company. He depended on Diane to make the right decision about her wealth. Apart from her choice of second husband, she was as astute as her son — making the near failure of the company even more alarming.
Wolfe frowned. Bruce had clearly manipulated his mother once. He could do so again. If he decided he wanted her shares... If only Mom didn’t attach such a silly bargain to them, saying she would turn them over when I got married, I’d know the company was safe from that snake. He vowed to keep Bruce on his radar.
The Penthouse Secrets: A NYC Billionaire Romance Trilogy Boxed Set Page 14
