href="#u52c4639b-8c78-5828-9ff0-538a93fb2713">Chapter 15
San Francisco, CA
“Will, man, what—what the hell? What the hell happened?” Charles Ruggles rushed into the office to find his colleague viciously filling a leather carryall with the few personal effects he had in his office.
At the door stood two uniformed guards. They were there to ensure William Lloyd took nothing more from the Wilder Investments building than he’d brought.
“Will, man, what happened?” Charles pleaded.
“Little witch got me fired, is what,” Will grumbled in a voice as sinister as the look on his attractive honey-toned face.
Charles’s bewilderment continued to mount.
“Minka Gerald is a nosy little micromanager who can’t let anybody outshine her in the boss’s eyes.” Will shoved a wad of sticky notes into the carryall.
“That doesn’t sound like Minka,” Charles said after expelling a low whistle.
“It’s her, all right.”
“Well damn, man, what happened?”
“Forget it.” Will wasn’t about to share what had led up to his firing, nor did he have time to come up with a believable lie. His head ached, and his thoughts were raging. He had to get out of there.
“Will—”
“Let it go, Chuck, will you?”
“This has to be some kind of mistake.” Charles paced the room, rubbing his jaw. “Sim’s always raving about what a good job you’re doing with the foundation.” He referred to the boss, Qasim Wilder. Will had been the point person for Qasim’s Wilder Warriors Foundation since he’d been hired.
“Why don’t I talk to him—”
“No, Chuck, please. It’s cool, all right?”
“Sim’s a reasonable guy, you know?”
“I appreciate the effort, Chuck, really,” Will said earnestly. “Wish there were more folks like you in the world, but this is nothin’ but the same ol’ same ol’. I’m used to it—they get off on treating us like crap.”
Charles let the comment slide, not quite sure who Will meant by they or us. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
Will smirked. “Get Congress to pass a bill ordering the country to treat war vets like humans.” He shook his head, finished up his ferocious packing and slung the strap of the carryall across his shoulder. He rounded the desk.
“Thanks, Chuck.” Will extended a hand. “You always treated me like somebody, and I appreciate it.”
“Pleasure workin’ with you, Will,” Charles smiled earnestly. “You’re good people.”
Will left with a curt nod, and then stormed down the hallway with the guards in tow. He arrived in the executive corridor in time to see Minka Gerald, the chief admin and right hand to Qasim Wilder.
Minka approached her desk from the private corridor leading to the president’s wing. Will watched her round the desk and stand there, shuffling through a stack of papers.
“Happy, Mink?” he called while punching the elevator’s down button. He gave the button a second forceful stab for good measure and then looked down the hall to glare at Minka.
“I guess I should be thanking you.” His smile was cold. “Sim said I’d most likely be walkin’ out of this place in cuffs if you hadn’t dragged your feet on getting me that signing document. Funny, I don’t feel like I’m much in your debt.”
Minka let the papers fall back to her desk. “You’re right.” She strode past her desk to face him. “You shouldn’t feel in my debt. It’s Qasim you betrayed, even when he gave you numerous chances to redeem yourself. You just went right on disrespecting him by stealing from a charity to help kids, of all people.”
“Disrespect?” Will sneered, turning slightly from the elevators. “Disrespect? I was the one who saved his life, you—”
“Watch it, Lloyd” one of the guards breathed.
“Nah, Wayne, let him go on and say it,” the other guard said, smiling at Minka. “No offense, Ms. G., but I’ve been itchin’ for a chance to acquaint my fist with this fool’s face.”
“I’d break your hand before you even clenched that fist.” Will’s gaze never veered from Minka’s face.
Minka refused to look away, refused to give Will Lloyd the satisfaction of knowing he’d rattled her.
Will smiled as though he knew Minka’s attempt to remain unfazed had failed. He nodded. “Thanks for all you’ve done... Ms. G. Be seein’ ya.”
The elevator dinged. One of the guards followed Will inside. The other waited, his dark features drawn in concern.
“You okay, Minka?”
She blinked, putting a phony smile in place. “Yeah, Paul, thanks. I’m good.” She gave him a wave and watched him disappear inside the elevator.
Alone, she returned to her desk and expelled a weighted breath.
Saint Helena, CA
Oliver Bauer’s hand hovered over the ignition switch of his Jeep. Inside him, undying male desire, curiosity and a fair amount of recklessness were waging war. All dictated that he follow the curvy sliver of chocolate who had just bounced out of his sister’s home.
“Hopeless,” he murmured, bowing his head to rub a few fingers through the almond-brown curls complimenting his cinnamon skin. Silently, he acknowledged that his “conquest at all costs” frame of mind would get him in over his head one day.
Oliver climbed out of the Jeep. Still, he couldn’t resist another look toward the woman who was settling behind the wheel of a chocolate Benz, with personalized plates that read LUVMINK.
Oliver watched the car until it took a left down the road to the main gate at Carro Vineyards. The vineyard and world-renowned winery had been in Oliver’s family for decades. Was LUVMINK there for business? Business associates were usually shown to the door, though, weren’t they? The woman had left as if she was quite familiar with his sister’s house.
Oliver shook his head, silently chastising
