“I know your latest polymer mix has good potential, but I’m worried they think you’ve had a bigger breakthrough than you’ve actually had. Could you send me your last report to them so that I can look it over?”
Dylan realized that Marcus must have pulled some strings. He squirmed, the blatant nepotism making him feel a little queasy. Up until now, he’d worked hard for and earned every grant and sponsorship. Being handed more money on a silver platter because of his relationship to Steve left a bad feeling in his mouth.
On the other hand, there was a lot he could do with triple his previous budget.
“I didn’t submit it yet,” Dylan admitted. “But I found out that I know one of the owners of the company, and I think he might have pulled some strings when he realized they were sponsoring me.”
“Really?” Dr. Coldbine sounded excited. “Who? Maybe you could talk to them about broadening the partnership with the university?”
“Marcus Miller,” Dylan said, not surprised that Dr. Coldbine would see this as just another fundraising opportunity. “And maybe?”
“That doesn’t ring a bell,” Dr. Coldbine said. She started typing on her keyboard. “Oh my, he’s a werewolf! Okay, yes, I see it here. He’s on the board of directors for the N.W.P Investment Group, which owns LupiMed. I’m not sure how much influence that gives him in their day-to-day operations, but it wouldn’t hurt to press our advantage. I’ll send over a proposal you can give him, unless you feel that it would be awkward?”
The tone of her voice said that it had better not be awkward.
“I can do that,” Dylan promised.
“Excellent.” Dr. Coldbine sounded pleased. “Is Mr. Miller as intimidating in real life as he is in his corporate headshot?”
“Probably more,” Dylan said. He hadn’t seen Marcus’s headshot, but he doubted it was more intimidating than the real deal.
“We have a few werewolves living here in Fort Plainslac, did you know?” Dr. Coldbine said, lowering her voice like she always did when she was gossiping. “The dean’s wife has one as her primary physician. Apparently, he runs a boutique clinic in the financial district. Can you imagine going to a werewolf for your checkups?”
“His name is August Schaffer,” Dylan said, wondering if he should tell Dr. Coldbine that the werewolf in question was his boyfriend. “I know him.”
“You do?”
“We’re dating,” Dylan said. Dr. Coldbine’s gasp made him grin in amusement. “He’s very nice.”
“Is that how you know Mr. Miller?”
“Kind of,” Dylan said. “I know his little brother. He’s a police officer in Fort Plainslac.”
Dylan decided not to share that he was dating him, too.
“Oh, I’ve seen him!” Dr. Coldbine said, excited. “He was directing traffic a few blocks away from campus one morning. He looked very sour. I remember wondering if it was because his uniform was too small and he was uncomfortable.”
Dylan laughed. “He hates directing traffic. It makes him ridiculously grumpy.”
“I could tell.”
“He’s pretty nice,” Dylan said. “When he’s not annoyed at his job.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” she said, her tone indicating that she was about to wrap up the conversation. “I have a meeting scheduled, so I need to go. I’ll send over that proposal for Mr. Miller and you can give him your best sales pitch. Take care.”
“You too,” Dylan said, hanging up.
Curious about Marcus’s headshot, he googled him and clicked on the link to the N.W.P Investment Group employee directory.
Marcus was the second photo, after John, and out of the two of them, Marcus was not the one Dylan found intimidating. He was staring straight at the camera with a blank expression, his square jaw clenched, but there was something about the way he was looking at the camera that almost seemed playful.
John, on the other hand, was grinning in his photo, and he looked terrifying. The look in his eye was delighted, but in a predatory way, like a wolf who had spotted a lamb that had been separated from its flock.
Dylan exited the page and put his phone in his pocket and went to get himself something to drink from the kitchen. Now that he’d called both Annie and Dr. Coldbine, his most pressing tasks were done and he could spend some time writing his thesis.
Looking through the kitchen cabinets, Dylan found a container of instant coffee that looked like it would hit the spot. He put a mug of water in the microwave and waited for it to heat up, crouching down and watching the cup as it spun around on the glass plate.
While he waited, he debated calling his parents. He wanted to talk to them after the scare Steve’s father and his goons had given him, but then he’d have to tell them that he was in Fairbanks and they’d ask all sorts of questions that he didn’t want to answer.
