her fingers’ movement, lingering over her hair before fastening on her face once again. “So Harry must not be giving Dean the same kind of verbal nudging he’s giving you,” he guessed.
“I suspect not.” Frankie frowned, considering. “Has Harry tried to grill you about me?”
“Not yet.” Eli shrugged. “But we have a meeting tomorrow to discuss the Wolf Construction proposal for the south Seattle project. Maybe he’s waiting until then.” He sipped his coffee once again. “Harry’s cagey—I wouldn’t put anything past him, and if he’s not nudging Nicholas about asking you out, he must have a reason.”
“Or maybe Nicholas refused to get involved in Harry’s schemes,” Frankie said. “And if he did, then our plan isn’t really necessary.”
Eli’s eyes glinted. “If you believe that, then you don’t know Harry as well as I thought you did.”
“What makes you say that?” Frankie hoped Eli had a really good answer, because she was enjoying seeing him and didn’t want their dates to end.
“Harry always has a bigger view of his projects, and if fixing you up with Nicholas didn’t work out, he would go to plan B.”
“And what’s plan B?” Frankie asked.
“Not what—who. I have no idea who Harry would pick out to be the next candidate, but I’m sure he has another name on his list as a backup for Nicholas.”
“Of course.” Frankie sighed, tense muscles relaxing. “You’re right. Harry always has a plan. Mom said that’s the reason he was always so good at chess.”
“That sounds like Harry.” Eli glanced at his watch. “Time for me to go—I have an appointment in fifteen minutes.” He stood, swinging the chair back into its original position. “What time do you want me to pick you up on Friday?”
“How about seven?”
“I’ll see you then.” His gaze flicked to her mouth, lingered, before returning to her eyes. “Have a good afternoon,” he murmured, his deep voice a rumble.
And he was gone, before Frankie could gather her wits after that hot, focused stare.
Several minutes later, she was still sitting motionless, staring blankly at the notes on her desk when, for the second time in a half hour, knuckles rapped against her open office door. She looked up to find her friend and coworker, assistant professor Sharon Katz, standing on the threshold. Before Frankie could say hello, Sharon spoke.
“Wow, Frankie, who was that guy?” she asked, curiosity lighting her face. “He’s gorgeous.”
Frankie laughed at her friend’s expression. “He’s a friend of my cousin Justin.”
“And he’s visiting you … why?”
“He brought me a latte.” Frankie lifted the Starbucks cup and saluted Sharon with it before drinking.
“Nice.” Sharon leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed, a sheaf of papers in one hand. “Come on, fess up. Are you dating him?”
“I am.” Frankie grinned when Sharon rolled her eyes and fanned herself with the papers.
“Way to go, Professor.” She straightened, glancing over her shoulder. “Darn, students are already filing into my lecture hall. I have to go—let’s have lunch tomorrow, and you can fill me in on all the details, okay?”
“Okay.” Frankie turned back to the half-completed report on her desk as Sharon disappeared, the quick tap of her heels fading away down the hall.
Anticipation buoyed Frankie over the next day. But Friday morning brought disappointing news. Her department head emailed to tell her attendance was mandatory at an impromptu after-work cocktail party. She suspected her boss wanted to impress his superiors with the presence of the entire department.
Disappointed that she had to cancel her plans with Eli that evening, Frankie dialed his cell phone several times, but each time the call went immediately to his answering service. As the morning flew by and became afternoon, she grew more concerned that she wouldn’t be able to catch him before he left the house to pick her up at her condo.
She tried reaching him at the office, but when the message center picked up, she remembered Eli telling her that he’d given the secretaries the afternoon off. She left a message with the answering service but the operator couldn’t guarantee Eli would get it before Monday morning when the office staff returned and picked up messages.
Frankie hated the thought that Eli might think she’d stood him up but couldn’t think of another way to reach him.
Unless she could catch him on a job site, she thought with sudden inspiration.
She collected her purse and left her office in Liberty Hall. She was fairly certain she knew the address of the Wolf Construction site not far from campus. She had no idea whether Eli would be there or not, but she hoped to find someone who could tell her how to contact him. Within ten minutes, after a wrong turn that had her backing out of a dead-end street, she found the site.
The skeleton of what would become an upscale, five-story condo building rose in the air above her as she turned off the street and onto the bumpy dirt lot. Puddles of water left by the early morning downpour dotted the ground, and Frankie avoided them as best she could. Still, she knew her just-washed BMW would need another bath, and soon.
A contractor’s trailer stood at the end of the lot, and several pickup trucks were parked in front of it, two of which had Wolf Construction logos on their doors. Frankie hoped that meant Eli was in the trailer, and she mentally crossed her fingers as she parked next to one of the trucks and got out.
Skirting a muddy puddle, she climbed the two wooden steps and knocked on the metal trailer door.
“Come in.”
Frankie didn’t recognize the deep male voice, but nevertheless she pushed the door open and stepped inside, halting abruptly.
Three men stood at a drafting table that was littered with blueprints and notes. A fourth man, his eyes bright blue in a lined face below a shock of white hair, sat in a battered office chair, one foot propped on the opposite knee as he leaned back.
None of the four were Eli. All of them were big, broad and dressed alike in faded jeans, plaid flannel shirts and muddy work boots. And all of them watched her with alert male gazes.
Frankie returned their interested stares with a friendly but reserved glance. She’d never met Eli’s brothers or his grandfather, but the resemblance was unmistakable. These four had to be related to him.
“Hello. I’m looking for Eli Wolf.”
“I’m his brother Connor,” one of three men at the table drawled. “You’re too pretty for Eli, honey. I’d be happy to help you—with whatever you need.”
Taken aback, Frankie was speechless for only a second before the twinkle in Connor’s eye reassured her. She smiled. “Sorry—honey—but it’s Eli I need to find.”
“Smart woman.”
The deep,
