She was right. He did keep a bed here, though it wasn’t covered in zebra patterns. It was black satin, and where he brought his overnight guests, so he didn’t have to take them to his home. Better to keep everyone at arm’s length.
With a start, Beethoven’s Final Symphony echoed all around them from the surround sound system.
Melina spun slowly, glancing up at the speakers in the ceiling. “Classical?”
Frantic, Hayden jabbed at the buttons on the monitor to change the music to something more fitting…and less personal. He chose Stone Temple Pilots and prayed to God she didn’t probe about his music choice. He should’ve remembered to tell Gabriel to turn it off before they arrived.
“This way,” he said, turning along the wall housing the elevator shafts. It was the only wall in the office. Not a single wall blocked one room from another, and the glass on the outside wasn’t glass at all. It was a huge one-way mirror. The entire face of the building was reflective, which meant Hayden could shift in his private office anytime he wanted without feeling as if someone was going to peek inside.
“These are great,” she said from behind him. “I bet they’re originals.”
She must’ve been talking about the artwork on the central wall. She was right on that mark, too.
“I’m starting to think you’re in the wrong business,” he said over his shoulder as he opened the glass door to his office. “You should’ve been a detective.”
“Nah, too much pressure. My deadlines are about all I can take.” A smile spread over her face as she strode through the door, keeping her distance, and plopped into the leather chair across from his desk. She dropped the bag from her shoulder, set it at her feet, and then pulled out an iPad. “I sent over the image improvement plan while I was waiting for you to show up. Do you mind if we go over it before you get started for today? After that, I swear I’ll disappear. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Sounds great.” He sat in his chair, rolled back, and rested his feet on the empty top. “Hit me with it.”
“I wish I had a hard-bound copy to take you up on that, but I emailed it to you.”
Hayden rolled close to the desk, and then cued up his email. “Hayden Dean’s Image Improvement Plan” in the subject line stared back at him.
He opened the mail and scooted closer for a better look. “Phase One deals with the traits on the outside that scream laid-back and non-committal,” he read aloud, “Clothes and hair should reflect business attitude. Schedule appointment with a stylist. Suit and tie, and briefcase suggested.” He met her expectant gaze. “What’s wrong with my hair?”
“It’s got that tousled look, like you just rolled out of bed,” she said. “It’s sexy and wild. Not the vibe you want right now.”
“You think my hair’s sexy?”
She rolled her eyes, though a rosy pink blush bloomed over her cheeks. “Keep reading, would you?”
“Car of choice should be responsible instead of fast and fun.” His world spun. “After work, time should be spent out of the public eye, in reflection or some private activity that does not involve bars, women, parties, or anything destructive.”
He stared. She stared back, batting impossibly long lashes.
“You want me to be a monk?” He forced out a laugh. “Not happening.”
“It’s only for a month, right?” Her lips twitched as if holding back a smile. “Keep reading. You haven’t reached Phase Two.”
He’d agreed to let Melina follow him around and improve his image, but damn. Wasn’t there anything he’d done right on his own?
He scrolled past a long list of To-Do’s, Shouldn’t-Do’s, and Never-Do’s. “Phase Two deals with change on the inside, that reflects on the outside. Learn to unwind using acceptable forms of relaxation such as mediation, yoga, and acupuncture. Work hard, after hours, taking on extra projects. Learn to compromise. Make time for friends and family. Trust your instincts, as long as they reflect the new and improved image.” Holy shit. “You want me to trust my instincts? They say delete this email and never think about it again.”
“I was thinking about you last night, and…”
Hold the phone. She thought about him last night? Was she in bed when the thoughts struck her? He wondered. Did she toss and turn and dream of him, too? He went hard at the thought of her in his bed, tangled in his sheets.
Shit, she’d been talking as his thoughts veered into the gutter. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, what?”
She groaned. “I’m supposed to improve your image with my article, but if nothing has changed in your life, from the outside or the inside, the business associates you want to impress will see through it. You’ve got to make changes to how you live your life if you want to earn their respect.”
Gabriel had been telling him the same thing for years, long before his father had passed on. Sad truth was, Melina’s words sank deeper than Gabriel’s ever had. Maybe it was the fact that the council had threatened to take the Alpha seat from him. Even though Hayden knew he could handle pack business, if he didn’t prove it to the council within the month, his opinion wouldn’t matter.
“There are so many things wrong with this email, I don’t even know where to start.” His head ached. “Firstly, we’ve got to address—“
The elevators dinged, silencing him.
He wasn’t expecting anyone, and although Gabriel came in and out, he always left a message stating when he was coming up, and for what purpose.
“Be right back,” Hayden bit out. “Stay here.”
Without waiting for an answer, Hayden swept out the doors and charged around the corner. Anita Cross, fellow packmate and Lydia’s secretary, emerged from the elevator, and then backpedaled at the sight of him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Dean, I wasn’t expecting you here.”
“Which means you’ve invaded my privacy before,” he said, standing in front of her, arms folded over his chest. “How many times?”
Her gray eyes went wide. “Never, s—sir,” she stuttered. “I mean, never before now, sir.”
He could smell her fear. It was bitter, tingling his nose. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m so sorry, sir, but the council is in the middle of a meeting and Lydia needed the newest report on the rogue attack. Gabriel had it sent to you, since you’re, well, you know who you are, or who you’ll be next month.” Damn, she was stumbling all over herself. “He didn’t want an electronic trail, so it was sent paper only, and Lydia couldn’t find her copy. She sent me to retrieve it for the council. I was going to replace it on your desk as soon as the meeting was over.”
Hayden couldn’t stop the growl rumbling through his chest. “The council is meeting now? With Lydia?” It was all he could force out through the haze of anger rolling over him. “Where? The boardroom?”
Anita shook her head. “Her office.”
The fury rose in him, hot and vicious, nearly triggering the urge to shift into wolf form. He swallowed down the heady impulse. Barely. “I’ll take the report to the meeting myself. Do yourself a favor. Disappear from the building for the next twenty minutes, and never step foot on my floor again.”
Anita nodded into a bow, and then ran to the elevators. If he even sensed her in the building before his anger died off, he was liable to combust and take his aggression out on her. Although he was pissed off as hell that she’d even think about sneaking into the future Alpha’s office and stealing something off his desk, she didn’t deserve the brunt of his hatred.
She was simply following Lydia’s orders.
How dare Lydia schedule a meeting with the council without him present! Hayden wasn’t a genius, but he knew the reason she scheduled it now. He never came in this early. She’d planned to get close to the council, prove she could handle the Alpha’s business, and squeeze him out completely.
To hell with that.
Focused on nothing but Lydia and the rogue report, Hayden burst into his office, jerked open his top drawer, and sifted through the papers u
ntil he found the one she’d wanted. He slammed the door closed and mumbled something to Melina about keeping herself busy—out of his office—until he came back.
Chapter Six
“What the hell, Lydia?” Hayden burst through the doors of Lydia’s office and threw the report across the table. “How dare you call this meeting without me!”
“Hayden, great to see you,” Lydia said, her face an apathetic mask. “Take a seat.”
She was a beacon of poise and elegance—always had been. Raven-black hair cut to fall around her chin, beady black eyes with glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She sat at the head of an oblong table, damn her, with the three council members seated around the curves.
The council members had been some of the Alpha’s most trusted friends. Before his passing, he’d appointed them himself. Reagan, the shortest and squattiest, had also been a loyal friend to Lydia’s mother. White, the oldest on the council, had worked for Hayden’s grandfather and was extremely faithful to the Dean family. The final member, “Mad Dog” Maddox, had joined the San Francisco Wolf Pack late in life, and had befriended Angus Dean almost immediately. Since the pack saved him from a life on the streets, he was loyal to them as a whole, rather than any one leader—that reason alone was probably why Angus had chosen him for the third council seat.
Hayden’s fate, and that of the ruler of the pack, rested in their hands.
“I’m the pack’s future Alpha. Any meeting having to do with pack business should include me.” Hayden paused, trying to strangle Lydia with his stare. Why couldn’t looks kill? Just this once. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
She stared back, returning fire with a challenging gleam in her eye.
“Hayden, join us.” White spread his arms to the opposite end of the table, where Hayden would be seated across from Lydia. “We were going to call the meeting later, when you’d be available to attend, but Lydia informed us of another attack this morning. We thought it best to discuss it now, while the coals burned hot.”
They burned hotter in hell, where he wouldn’t mind sending the snake on the opposite end of the table.
He leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, propping his ankle up on the opposite knee. “Who reported the attack?”
“A non-shifter discovered the turned wolf bleeding behind a Dumpster in Haight-Ashbury,” Reagan answered, templing his fingers as he leaned over the table. “The woman called the police first, but we intercepted the call and sent in the guards to clean up the mess before officers arrived.”
“The wolf is in critical condition at Howlands,” Lydia continued, “though he’s not expected to make it. A silver rod is lodged in his chest, inches from his heart”
Shifting was the easiest way for a werewolf to heal—transitioning from wolf back to human form usually cured all wounds. But with a silver rod lodged in the wolf’s chest, changing back to human form was risky. The rod could remain stuck, and could damage major organs during the process. And while Howlands was a private facility built to house and care for critically injured werewolves with abnormal wounds, there wasn’t much they’d be able to do for that wolf.
“Were there any witnesses?” Hayden asked, looking to minimize damages.
“Not that we know of,” Mad Dog said, his voice booming through the office. “We’re listening to scanners for breadcrumbs that’ll lead us to witnesses or the wolf responsible.”
Seemed as if they’d covered every issue. Without his involvement.
The council members should’ve tried harder to let him know what was going on, but he couldn’t shrug off the burden weighing his shoulders. If he’d been here earlier, if he’d gotten into the habit of coming in early every day, Lydia wouldn’t have been able to move the meeting without him knowing about it.
If he took it more seriously—all of it, every damn thing—maybe they’d take him more seriously…
“How do we know the rogue wolves are the ones responsible?” he probed. “Have they contacted us yet to—“
“We’ve already covered all of this.” Lydia closed the laptop in front of her and sighed exasperatedly. “The leader of the rogue pack, a Were who identifies himself as Archer, called Howlands about an hour ago. They’ve claimed the attack as theirs and accepted responsibility.”
“If you’ve already covered all this, why’d you need to send someone snooping through my office to nab the report?” Hayden flicked it further down the table.
“The operator at Howlands called to report that they’d received a message from Archer, but we didn’t know what was said until now. They didn’t want to discuss it over the phone line.” Reagan scooped up the report and scanned quickly. “Well, now I know why they had a messenger deliver it by hand.”
“Why’s that?” Lydia pressed.
Reagan slid the paper to the snake running the show.
Lydia read, and then met Hayden’s gaze. There was something hidden behind her onyx eyes…
“What’s it say?” He slammed his fist over the table. “Out with it!”
“The rogues won’t stand by and watch you—a turned wolf—rule over the wolf pack. They’ll kill one turned werewolf or non-shifter associated with our pack every day until a new Alpha is voted in. If the newly-chosen Alpha is a born wolf, they’ll disappear from the San Francisco Bay Area and never return.”
Hayden’s stomach ached as if he’d been sucker punched. He willed his expression to remain unreadable, and his blood pressure to drop to normal levels. But inside, a war raged, boiling his blood and stealing his breath.
Angus had been a true Alpha, born with wolf blood in his veins. Rather than go on some crazy power trip against turned wolves, he embraced them. He’d found Hayden attacked and left for dead on the street. Instead of turning away, he’d saved Hayden and adopted him as his only son.
If only others could be as kind-hearted and understanding.
Hayden stood, pushing back his chair. “If my father were here, he’d say we should never bow to threats made by rogue wolves. We must protect the ones who cannot protect themselves. My father would call out the entire army of guards and hunt down the rogues, starting with the area of Haight-Ashbury. If we send out a team now, we might still be able to pick up their scent.” He went palms down on the table. “But he’s not here. And we won’t have a designated Alpha to make these calls until the end of the month. Don’t think for one second the timing is coincidental, either. The rogue wolves know that without an Alpha, the council has to vote on pack movement. They’re trying to take advantage of a split vote so they have more time to instill fear and cause chaos to rumble through the pack.”
The council went quiet except for the tap-tap-tapping of Lydia’s fingers as they rolled over the table.
“What is the council’s stance on this issue?” Hayden forced down the fury rising in his throat. “Do we send out more guards and continue on the path we’re on, or do you move to vote in a new Alpha?”
The vote was split down the middle. White and Mad Dog voted to induct a new Alpha, while Reagan and Lydia chose to wait.
As inherent heir to the wolf pack throne, Hayden didn’t get a vote.
One thing became crystal clear as he took the elevator back to the fifteenth floor: the council didn’t need him to hold meetings, and they didn’t care to hear his voice in the boardroom. To top it off, thanks to the rogues’ threats, Hayden’s presence as a leader meant more deaths for their packmates.
He’d become more of a liability than an asset.
And it didn’t take a business degree to understand what happened to liabilities.
Chapter Seven
Melina was absolutely, positively blown away by Hayden’s private workspace.
Not that she’d ever tell him that.
After eyeballing a few things on Hayden’s desk, she left his office. She strolled around the floor, checking things out, and didn’t feel bad about it. Not one bit.
Hayden had pretty much ordered her to stay put. He’d have to learn
she didn’t take commands well. And she never would, least of all from him.
Besides, now was the perfect opportunity to dig up some dirt on her hunky subject. She already knew the basics about him. He was breathtakingly good looking, and frequently used it to his advantage. He was also filthy rich, drove a hot car, and had a reputation for being extremely…generous…in the sack.
Gooseflesh blanketed her arms, chilling her to the core, even though the air was warm and comfortable. She hated the fact that her body had such a traitorous reaction to the mere thought of Hayden Dean. She really couldn’t stand him and his cocky attitude, and the way he acted like he was God’s gift to…well, everything.
“Focus,” she said aloud to herself as she wandered over the fifteenth floor, “and keep your eye on the prize.” Thoughts of Hayden invaded her brain. “He is not the prize.”
The prize was her dream job, and she couldn’t forget it.
She took mental notes of everything as she ambled through his personal space.
Although the room had the definite feel of a bachelor pad, with shining hardwood floors, plush rugs, leather couches, fully-stocked bar, and floor-to-ceiling windows—man, the view of the sunset must’ve been stunning—there were parts of the office that were uncharacteristically elegant. Classic and regal, even.
Guess that’s what “old money” did for people.
Before writing her column, “A Month in a Celeb’s Shoes,” Melina penned the tiny, nearly unnoticed column titled, “Moguls Among Us.” It was the reason she’d interviewed Hayden last year in Starbucks. Although the article was surface level, detailing how millionaires spent their day-to-day lives, Melina had researched Hayden’s father and the businesses in his portfolio. She’d discovered Angus Dean owned some of the most influential businesses in the city. If he didn’t own it, his construction company had built or remodeled the building. Either way, Hayden’s father had his hand in every part of San Francisco’s business structure.
Hayden had monstrous shoes to fill.
The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) Page 5