Or would it? Meghan struck him as someone who appreciated honesty. There were some things he couldn’t come right out and tell her, like he had a heart condition and was sterile. Essentially, a dead man walking. But he could at least be honest about other things.
“Meghan, I hope you won’t think I’ve been prying into your business,” he said cautiously, “but Jake told me about the guy you were involved with at Shaw.”
He heard her sharp intake of breath and thought she was about to hang up on him or say something cutting. But she only exhaled and said, “Yeah, but that was a long time ago and I’m totally over Chauncey Evans.”
“Chauncey,” Leo said. “I thought that was a male name.”
“I named her Chauncey after him just to prove to myself that I could use his name on a daily basis and not react negatively to it. I don’t feel anything for the first bearer of that name, but I dearly love the second bearer of it.”
Leo sat on his stool, feeling stunned by her admission. Stunned and totally in awe of her strength and resilience. “I wish I were there to hug you, Meghan Gaines. Even if I do have a cold and you might catch it.”
“I wish you were here, too, Mr. Darcy,” Meghan said, her voice breaking. She cleared her throat. “I’d better go. The Higher Education Mafia will be here all too soon. Bye for now, and spoil yourself today. Watch The Godfather.”
“How do you know I love that movie?”
“You’re a red-blooded American male, aren’t you?” Meghan said with a note of laughter.
* * *
The Mafia arrived promptly at noon. Meghan’s mom, Virginia, looking positively glowing in her winter togs of expensive dark brown lined wool slacks, a caramel-colored V-neck cashmere sweater and a faux-fur-lined jacket. On her small feet were leather boots with three-inch heels nearly the same shade as her sweater, and she was surrounded by an appropriately understated cloud of her signature perfume, Chanel No. 5.
Her best friend, Marjorie, who dressed much more casually, was wearing designer jeans, a long-sleeve T-shirt in jade, a cute little black leather jacket and a pair of black Nikes. She was the first one through the door and hugged Meghan tightly. She wore her black hair in a pixie cut and used minimal makeup. Her golden-brown skin was smooth and showed very little aging, except for crinkles around her hazel eyes.
Meghan kissed her cheek. “Hello, Auntie Marjie,” she murmured close to her godmother’s ear. Meghan had been calling her godmother Auntie Marjie since childhood.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Marjorie cooed affectionately.
Meghan had to bend a little to hug her godmother. Marjorie was five-two and around 110 pounds. Her mother was shorter and a tad heavier than Marjorie, but not by much.
While Meghan was hugging her godmother, Virginia set the takeout she’d brought on the island’s countertop in the kitchen. Chauncey and Malcolm ran to her, hoping she’d pet them, maybe share a little of that delicious-smelling food she was carrying, but she merely glared at them until they lost their nerve and hightailed it for the relative safety of the living room.
Meghan released Marjorie and went and hugged her mother, who squeezed her tightly, with an exaggerated moan at the end. Looking around, as she removed her jacket, Virginia said, “The place looks good.” She inhaled the pleasant Febreze-scented air. “No pet smells.”
Her mother didn’t allow pets in her house. She believed there was no way to prevent a house from smelling like its occupants, human or animal. “Just because you have pets doesn’t mean your house has to smell bad,” Meghan said. “Not if you keep your house and your pets clean. Which I do.”
Her godmother gave her a sly encouraging nod. Marjorie was a pet lover, too. She went over and gave Chauncey and Malcolm warm pats on their heads. “Hello, pretty girl. Who is this handsome guy, mmm?”
Chauncey and Malcolm wagged their tails in appreciation for her kindness. Marjorie looked at Meghan. “Who is this? You got Chauncey a companion?”
“That’s Malcolm. He belongs to a friend,” Meghan explained. “I’m just taking care of him for a day or two.”
“Well, he’s gorgeous,” Marjorie said. She joined Meghan and Virginia in the kitchen.
Meghan went to get plates and silverware while her mother started removing the takeout from paper bags. The food turned out to be hickory-smoked barbecue from an African American–owned soul food restaurant the family had frequented for a number of years.
Meghan looked at her mother with appreciation. The woman knew her food. “My favorite,” she said with a smile.
Virginia smiled. “I know.” Then she added, “Better get the big white dish towels so we can protect our clothes from barbecue sauce.”
Meghan looked in the drawer next to the stove. She had the dishcloths and towels in there. She selected three towels, returned to the island and handed them out.
They all tucked them into the necks of their shirts like bibs and then filled their plates with barbecued ribs and chicken, coleslaw and baked beans. There was cheesy corn bread, too, with jalapeño peppers and whole corn kernels in the batter.
As they consumed the food, Meghan looked at her mother and godmother and said, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company today?” They liked it when she behaved like a proper Southern belle. She obliged them as long as it didn’t entail losing herself in the role. She loved listening to them regale her with tales of what it used to be like to be a black woman in the South. All the things they’d had to go through to maintain their dignity. To keep their families together. To support the men in their lives and help them maintain their sense of purpose. They were incredible women, and a lot of their advice was solid gold. However, she took everything they told her and weighed it against her own goals in life. She was, after all, her own woman.
Virginia wiped her hands on her towel and put it down on the countertop. She looked her daughter in the eye. “Marjorie and I think it’s time you seriously considered a position at Duke. I’ll let her explain.”
“I’m taking the English department in a new, exciting direction,” Marjorie said with a smile. “Much more African American lit. The whole African diaspora, really. I’ve hired a professor who is doing wonderful things with African American literature. He’s a dynamic speaker, has written numerous, well-received articles and a couple of acclaimed novels. He is heading the new program, but I want you to work closely with him. He’ll supervise you for a while but, depending on your performance, that won’t last long. I want you on my team.”
Meghan realized her godmother was talking about Leo. She looked from her mother’s expectant face to her godmother’s. Were these two education mavens doing some not-so-subtle matchmaking? Did Marjorie realize Jake and Leo Wolfe were twins? It was true that Marjorie hadn’t met Jake yet, so maybe she hadn’t connected the two men who had the same last name. To say nothing of very similar faces.
Yet Meghan wrinkled her nose. Something didn’t smell right here.
She had a few pertinent questions she needed answers to. “What is the name of this super professor?” she asked Marjorie.
“Leo Wolfe,” Marjorie answered innocently enough.
“And when did you start considering hiring him?”
“Oh, more than a year ago,” Marjorie said nonchalantly. “I like to be sure about my choices. I’d been looking at him for quite a while before I contacted him about nine months ago. After I made an offer, he took his time weighing his options.”
Meghan inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. If what her godmother said was true, then hiring Leo had had nothing at all to do with her. She didn’t believe Marjorie would lie to her. She was the type of woman who would gladly own up to matchmaking if that was what she was engaged in.
Therefore her godmother could not have possibly hired Leo with the intention of setting him up with her.
But was her mother also in the dark about who Leo reall
y was?
She hadn’t spoken to anyone in the family about Leo except Mina. Mina and Jake apparently hadn’t made an announcement to the family about Leo’s moving to the area. If they had, Desiree and Lauren, who both lived in Raleigh, would have been calling her and making plans on how best to welcome their new soon-to-be in-law to the area.
Mina and Jake must have had a reason to remain silent about Leo. Had Leo asked them to let him have his privacy for as long as possible? That made sense to Meghan.
Therefore, she didn’t tell her mother and godmother she knew Leo. She simply smiled at them and said, “I’ll consider the offer and get back to you, Auntie Marjie. Thank you for your continued faith in me.”
From the relieved expressions on their faces, Meghan knew she’d made them happy with that reply. The other times her godmother had asked her to join the faculty at Duke, Meghan had politely turned her down. The Mafia probably thought her actually considering the offer was a step in the right direction.
Chapter 6
Meghan returned Malcolm to his human the next day around eleven in the morning. She was met at the door by a much-improved-looking Leo, wearing jeans that could have been sculpted to his hard body and a gray short-sleeve T-shirt that made her jealous. She wished she could be that close to his muscular chest.
He smiled at her, and her legs went weak. She handed him the pet carrier with Malcolm in it and Malcolm went nuts inside the carrier, he was so happy to see Leo. She turned around and started walking back out to her car.
“Where’re you going?” Leo anxiously asked. “You’re not staying awhile?”
“To get Chauncey,” Meghan called over her shoulder. “She put up such a ruckus when I put Malcolm in his carrier that I brought her, too.”
Leo laughed as he carried Malcolm inside, set the carrier on the foyer floor and let Malcolm out. Malcolm jumped up on Leo’s legs with delight. Leo knelt and let Malcolm lick his face. “I missed you, too, buddy.”
He heard Meghan coming into the house. He glanced up to see her carrying Chauncey in her arms, a smile on her face. She set Chauncey down, and Chauncey wasted no time joining Leo and Malcolm. Leo scratched her behind the ears and she snuggled closer.
* * *
The scene melted Meghan’s heart. A man who loved animals was high on her list of priorities when it came to choosing someone to be with. Leo looked up at her and their eyes met across the room.
He rose, leaving Malcolm and Chauncey to entertain themselves, which they were more than happy to do. He walked over to Meghan, his eyes never leaving her face.
“Good day, Miss Elizabeth. You look lovely.”
Meghan pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Oh, this old thing?” she joked, referring to the black jogging suit she was wearing. Her hair fell down her back in loose curls, and she was wearing her favorite white Nikes. She’d planned on taking Chauncey for a walk after they’d brought Malcolm back home.
She felt like an awkward teen trying to talk to the hottest boy in school. Timid and shivery. “You look good yourself, Mr. Darcy.”
Leo gave her an appreciative once-over, then met her eyes. Meghan fell deeper under that magnetic gaze and started moving closer to him as if she had no will of her own. “Do you think it would be okay if I hugged you?” Leo softly asked. “I won’t breathe on you, I swear.”
“I think that would be okay,” Meghan said and went into his open arms. Her body immediately relaxed in his embrace. She let go. That was the only way she could describe it. She let go of the hurt feelings, the invisible barrier she’d erected around her heart to keep it from being damaged by yet another insensitive male. Most of all, she let go of the lies she’d been telling herself about Leo. Foremost, the one that stated she didn’t care about him. Because, the fact was, she did care about this mysterious man.
* * *
Leo held her close to his chest and inhaled the wonderful scent of her, clean, fresh and subtly spicy. If he kissed her, he knew she’d taste like cinnamon. Or some other sweet-smelling spice.
His right hand was at the base of her neck. Her thick hair felt like silk. Her warm skin, beneath the fleece jacket, enticed him. He wanted to touch her bare skin, but knew that would be an invasion somehow. He was happy to just hold her. That was a major improvement. The fact that she was not drawing away from him and her body felt relaxed in his arms gave him hope that one day she would feel totally safe in his embrace.
They stood there for nearly two minutes before the dogs jumped up on them, breaking the spell. Laughing, they succumbed to their pets’ playfulness and let them romp all over their humans on the living room floor.
“What are we going to do about these two?” Leo asked, laughing. “It’s obvious they’re wild about each other.”
“We should set up a playdate,” Meghan suggested. “Maybe next Saturday?”
Leo smiled at her. “It’s a date.”
* * *
Meghan’s cell phone rang as she and Leo were getting up off the floor. She reached into her jacket pocket and glanced at the display. Lauren. Her heart immediately started beating fast. Lauren was nine months pregnant and could deliver at any time.
“Lauren!” she cried. “I’m here. Are you all right?”
“No,” Lauren moaned. “I’m in the delivery room right now and my husband just passed out. I need you, M!”
“Girl, you should have called me when you went into labor. You promised me you would do that.”
“Don’t chastise me now, Mommy,” Lauren joked. “Colton swore he could handle it. He wanted it to be an experience the two of us could share for years to come. Now he’s out cold and I’m by myself.”
“I’m on the way,” Meghan told her. “Bye.”
After she’d hung up, she turned to Leo. “I guess you got the gist of that. My sister’s in labor.” She looked around, a desperate look in her eyes. Then her gaze met his. “Will you watch Chauncey for me?”
“Of course,” Leo immediately answered. “She’ll be fine here.”
Meghan threw herself into his arms and planted an impulsive kiss on his cheek. Leo gave a dazed smile. “Go, go, and call me later, please.”
Meghan was running for the door. “I will, and thanks so much, Leo!”
Leo was just happy to be able to return the favor—just happy that she didn’t consider him to be untouchable anymore.
He went to the door and watched her run to the Mustang, start it and drive away.
He felt excited for her and her family. A new life coming into the world was a momentous occasion. It was something that made you contemplate the divine.
* * *
By the time Meghan got to the hospital, her parents and her sister Desiree were sitting in the birth-and-delivery waiting room, all looking nervous. Her mother rushed to her when she walked in.
“Lauren won’t let anyone back there except you. What is wrong with that girl? A mother should be with her daughter when she gives birth.”
Meghan hugged her mother tightly. She had no time for histrionics. Her sister needed her. “Momma, just pray. I’m going back there.” She turned her mother in the direction of her father, who had risen when she walked in, too. Alphonse pulled his petite wife into his arms. “Come on, Ginny, sit down and let the girl do what she came to do—help calm Lauren so she can bring our grandchild into the world.”
Desiree, who always had her sisters’ backs, winked at Meghan. “Go on, sis, tell her she’s got this!”
Meghan had to check in at the nurses’ desk, after which a male nurse outfitted her with a gown, gloves and a cap and instructed her on how to properly wash her hands before she could go into the delivery room where Lauren was.
Meghan was pleased to see Colton there, over his fainting spell now, standing next to Lauren’s bed, holding her hand. Or, rather, Lauren was squeezing his hand while she was going through a painful con
traction. Lauren gave a high-pitched squeak when she saw her sister and Meghan hurried to her bedside.
Meghan didn’t judge Colton harshly when he stepped aside, a slight look of relief on his face, and let Meghan hold Lauren’s hand. “How long have you guys been here?” Meghan whispered as she leaned toward him.
“Four hours,” he said, his gray eyes haunted. “I can’t stand to see her in so much pain.” All of this was said in low tones to keep Lauren from overhearing.
But she overheard anyway. “I’m fine, Colton, don’t worry about me and the baby. Now that Meghan’s here, I want you to go take a breather. I’ll be all right until you get back.”
“But...” Colton protested. He looked exhausted, not so much from physical exertion but from fear and worry.
“You have my permission to leave the room,” Lauren insisted as another contraction ripped through her body. Her beautiful brown eyes stretched wide as the wave of pain reached a crescendo, then lessened.
Colton went and kissed her cheek, then beat a hasty retreat, suddenly deciding to do as she asked. Meghan guessed he didn’t want to add more stress to this situation. She knew he didn’t want to leave Lauren. He probably felt, like most fathers, that he wasn’t a man unless he had the courage to stick by his wife’s side while she did all the work and gave birth to his child. Yet it was also his job to do whatever she said when she was in this physical state. So he granted her wish.
When he was gone, Lauren grabbed Meghan around the neck and pulled her close to her perspiring face. “I love that man, but when he took a look down there he blacked out so fast I was afraid he was going to crack his skull on the floor. Good thing we’re in a hospital.” Then she laughed uproariously, and Meghan laughed with her. Meghan knew that her sister was going to be fine.
Love in San Francisco ; Unconditionally Page 23