Private Disclosures

by Raleigh Davis

  “These are delicious.” She’s eating another one, and I absolutely cannot look—not if I want to keep the car on the road.

  I glance over anyway. This time she’s holding a slice out to me, palest gold and gleaming with juice.

  “I’m driving.” It sounds lame, but my brain is smoking into ruin.

  She doesn’t drop her hand. “They’re really good.”

  I can’t lose my focus on my driving, but I also can’t look away from her. We’re going to smash into a telephone pole because of a goddamn pear. Well, because Anjelica is so fucking hot holding out a pear to me.

  Her fingers dip, waving the fruit in front of me. There’s a scent of sugar and muted sunlight. “Don’t you want some of Fuchs’s fruit?”

  The tease in her voice sends a bolt of heat straight to my cock. And she’s half smiling like that’s exactly what she intended.

  When she puts it like that, I can’t resist: I bend my head, wrap my mouth around the slice—and her fingers—and take it on my tongue. Her fingers are firm, warm compared to the soft chill of the pear.

  She does a quiet noise halfway between a squeal and a gasp, like she never expected that.

  And she never expected to like it so much.

  My cock twitches even as my heart does a triumphant fist pump. I chew slowly, letting the flavor run between my teeth. She’s right—it’s a damn good pear, even preserved as it is.

  I swallow it, running my tongue over my teeth to get every last drop. “Thanks. It was good.”

  She looks good with her lips parted, her hand still in the air between us. I could dip my head, lick the rest of the juice off her fingers. I could, and given her earlier reaction, she’d be just fine with it.

  And then the car would run off the road, smash into something, and we could both die.

  “You’re welcome?” She drops her hand, looking shell-shocked. Her fingers stay pressed together as if she can’t let go of something.

  Then she gives herself a shake, seems to wake up. And very firmly puts the lid back on the jar.

  Which of course I’m grateful for. I need to concentrate on my driving. Not her.

  Chapter 10

  I’ve only just met Helen a few days ago, but I already love her. She’s passionate, enthusiastic, determined; but she also has a dream. When I was imagining my perfect first start-up founder, she was it.

  “And here’re the latest specs on the encryption.” She pulls up a screen on her laptop. “Through some clever code, Jena has managed to make the users’ data even more secure.”

  I’ll have to ask Finn and January their opinions, but what I see here looks good. I might not be a programmer, but I’ve picked some things up. I smile at her. “You anticipated my next question. User security is going to always have to be one of your biggest priorities.”

  “I know.” She beams back at me.

  Helen’s anticipated all my questions, showing me how much sleeker, more secure, the app is. She’s anticipated all of them except one, the biggest one.

  “What’s the user-base growth look like?”

  Her smile flickers, freezes. “The past few weeks haven’t been great.” For a moment I suspect she’s about to try to bullshit her way through this, but then she brings up the next slide. “Trial subscriptions are down. Way down.”

  The data she’s showing me is grim. Since the app won’t use advertising, it has to get paying subscribers. And the way to do that is to give them a free trial where they’ll fall in love with the app and want to pay.

  But people aren’t even signing up for the free trial. Which means they’re not signing up for subscriptions. There’s no way the company will even come close to their projected growth targets like this.

  “What does your marketing person say about this?”

  “She thinks it’s a blip. Nothing to worry about.”

  I look up sharply at the hitch in her tone. “But you don’t.”

  “I’m not going to brush it off as a blip,” she says firmly. “I’m meeting with her today about new marketing strategies to address it.”

  That’s encouraging. But the downward-trending line she’s shown me keeps nagging at me. What if Finn is right and their growth just isn’t going to happen? “And if it doesn’t turn out to be a blip? And the new marketing plan doesn’t fix it?”

  To her credit, Helen doesn’t flinch. “We hold back on the development of new features. Focus on the parts our subscribers already love and improve those. Cutting… cutting the new positions if we need to.”

  It’s a hard choice she’s describing, to decide what to kill when something’s failing. Don’t cut back and you’ll run out of money. Cut back too much and you’ll never grow the company like you need to. And those are real people she’ll have to fire if it comes to that. Lives will be injured if she has to let people go.

  It’s a rare start-up that comes back from something like that. But I have faith Helen will turn this around. It’s why I invested in her.

  “Good,” I say. “Let me know what comes out of the marketing meeting. And keep me updated on the new subscriber numbers. If this is just a blip, I want to know. And if it’s not…”

  I don’t have to spell the rest out for her. She nods, then rises smartly. “Definitely. I’ll be in touch.”

  Once she’s gone, I rub at my temples, staring at the calming sight of my atrium. The meeting went great, but I’m not used to being the person behind the desk, not yet. Helen’s looking to me to be the authority, to hand her the answers along with the money. Or at least to pretend I could if she needed them. I’m sure I’ll get better at this as I go along, but these first meetings are exhausting. And I’ve got two more of them this week.

  My assistant comes in then, smiling and holding a steaming cup of tea. “I figured you’d need this.” Georgia was my assistant before this, and she knows me too well, thank goodness.

  “I do. Thank you.” As I take the cup from her, she unloads several folders filled with prospectuses from under her arm and onto my desk. I groan. “Did I really ask to read all these?”

  “You did.” She’s chirpy, which I used to like, back when I was only the office manager. Now her cheer is making me cranky. But that’s just me being crabby about all this reading I’ve brought on myself. “I pulled out every one that matched your specifications.”

  I start flipping through the one on top. I’m instantly energized by what I see. Another start-up with a female founder, this time working on mobile games. Most people don’t realize women play tons of computer games—but mostly on their phones. The gaming industry sneers at them as not being worth their time, but it’s an untapped market. Just look at Candy Crush and its five million variants.

  “This is exactly what I was looking for,” I tell Georgia, pointing to the folder. I pick up the tea. “And this was exactly what I needed.”

  “Well, no more meetings today,” Georgia says, “and there’s the call with WamaSpec at three. Want me to make sure you’re not disturbed until then?”

  I’m caught up short by that. Back when I wasn’t a partner, I had to always be ready for disturbances. That was my whole job—to clean up disturbances before they reached the Bastards.

  But now I’m the one to be protected from all that. It’s nice… but also a touch unnerving, because I was really good at running interference.

  “Yes,” I say slowly. “That would be great.” Hours and hours of uninterrupted reading time with a hot cup of tea. What a treat. “Don’t let anyone in. Unless it’s one of the partners. Um, is Dev here today by any chance?”

  Georgia isn’t fooled by my stumbling attempts at casualness. “I haven’t seen him. Not since you guys came back from Europe.”

  Neither have I, and since it’s only been two days, I shouldn’t be worried. Dev sometimes disappears, either into his work or his office. That’s just how he is.

  I’d usually send someone to check on him after a few days though. But that’s Yancy’s job now.

 
My fingers tingle with the urge to do… something. Maybe even check on him myself. Just to see him…

  “Do you want me to find him?” Georgia is looking at me strangely, and I realize I never responded to her.

  “No, it’s fine. I was only curious.” I look through the folder again. “And yeah, no interruptions until three.”

  Georgia nods and leaves. I read through more prospectuses, start to put together some notes for Helen, and think way too much about Dev. Does he think our trip to Poland was a waste? Does he regret telling me about his past? Or is there something smaller, more innocent to explain why he’s disappeared?

  And where should we go to look for Fuchs next?

  There’s a knock at my door a little after two. I look up, expecting it to be Georgia with something that can’t wait, but it’s Logan. He’s holding two coffees from Roasted.

  “I thought you could use an afternoon pick-me-up.” He sets the cups on my desk, then pulls a bar of chocolate out of his suit jacket. “And a treat.”

  I take both the offerings gratefully. “This is perfect. I met with my very first start-up founder today.”

  “Oh? How’d it go?”

  “Great. She’s so excited and ready to do some disrupting. I loved it.”

  Logan smiles, which makes him even more handsome. Really, one man shouldn’t be that good-looking. It puts the rest of humanity at a disadvantage. “That sounds awesome. I can’t wait to see what they come up with.”

  “Me too. And I’ve already got a few more companies I want to look at. There’s just so much I’ve been wanting to do…” I flick through one of the prospectuses. “And so much to get done.”

  “Remember to pace yourself,” Logan says. “Burnout is real.”

  He should know—he used to work like a maniac. Then Callie left him and he was forced to reassess everything.

  “I thrive on having too much to do.” One look at my social schedule proves that. “And I’m even leaving early tonight for my book club meeting.”

  “Good. Don’t lose any of the things that make you happy.” His expression turns sober. “This trip you and Dev took to Europe… What was that about?”

  I set down the coffee. This suddenly feels less like a spontaneous treat and more like a bribe. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “He doesn’t tell us much of anything these days.” Logan’s voice has chilled to match the temperature of mine. “But he seems to still trust you.”

  Yes, he does. My instinct is to tell Logan what I can—maybe not everything about Dev’s past but at least about our hunt for Fuchs. But I also don’t want to betray Dev’s trust. If I’m all he’s got right now, and he thinks I’ve betrayed him…

  “You should ask him,” I say, biting my lip. God, but this feels awful to stonewall Logan like this. If only Dev would stop being stupid and simply confess everything, we could all go back to how things used to be.

  But he won’t do that. He’s decided he can’t trust the Bastards. Maybe he never really did.

  My blurting out his secrets for him isn’t going to fix things either. Why does he have to be so closed off and infuriating? And why am I so damn attracted to him in spite of it?

  “I would,” Logan says, “but he hasn’t been around since you guys got back. Considering that company resources were used, it would be nice to know what the trip was for.” His brows draw together and he leans toward me. “Anjie, if he’s in trouble, you can tell us. I don’t care what it is. We’ll help.”

  I blink hard and swallow. Does Dev know what he’s rejecting when he pushes these guys away? “He’s not in trouble. I swear it’s nothing like that.”

  “Is it about his family? His childhood?”

  My heart trips. Of course Logan would see right to that. He’s the details guy, and there are zero details about Dev’s childhood.

  “Um, you have to ask him.” My clumsy answer is pretty much a yes, but I can’t outright lie.

  Logan stares me down. “But he’s been to Poland before,” he says, mostly to himself. “So why go with you this time?”

  “Look, I can’t—”

  “Did you meet his family?”

  I sigh and fold my hands. “This isn’t my story to tell. You—all of you—need to sit down with Dev and work this out. But no, I didn’t meet his family.”

  Some of the intensity in Logan’s face fades. “You’re worried about him too.”

  “Of course I am. But I can’t make him do anything.”

  Logan laughs at the frustration in my voice. “You can’t manage him and it infuriates you.” He stops laughing. “You never tried to set him up with anyone.”

  Oh boy. “I never set you up with anyone either.”

  He runs his tongue over his teeth. “Okay, well, you interfere. Very precisely and very effectively. And you did it for all of us. Except Dev.”

  My skin runs hot, then cold. I can’t tell what Logan is getting at. Or maybe I can and I don’t want to go there. “I like playing matchmaker. And none of you are complaining now.”

  Thinking of Dev with another woman, one I’ve seen would be perfect for him… It makes me go cold and hot all at once, like I’m getting sick.

  “No,” Logan says, “we all appreciate what you did. We, uh, we always kind of suspected you and Dev had something going on. He talked about you before we hired you. He’s never talked about anybody since.”

  Okay, I’m just going to meet this head-on. “There might’ve been an attraction, but we never acted on it.”

  “I wasn’t accusing—”

  I keep talking over him. “But there’s nothing between us. And there won’t be.”

  I’m resolved on that, even after learning about his childhood—and that he still kisses like a dream. He’s not ready for a relationship. He might never be. That hasn’t changed. He definitely isn’t ready for a family, and that isn’t likely to ever change.

  Imagining Dev holding a baby makes my heart squeeze so tight it hurts.

  Logan looks like he has more to say, but he keeps his mouth shut. “Ah” is all that comes out. A small noise of resigned understanding. “Sorry. I won’t ask again.”

  “It’s okay. I’m sure you were all curious. And we both agree it’s for the best. We’re friends.”

  I don’t know if those last two are true, especially after Dev ate that pear out of my hand, but I want to ease Logan’s mind.

  I’ve eased my own mind in telling Logan all this. It feels good to tell him, to admit that yes, there was something between Dev and me but nothing more serious is going on. It’s like opening the curtains and letting the sun in on our friendship.

  Again, I can’t understand how Dev can hide away from this. Being open and honest with someone who cares about you just feels right.

  “Good,” Logan says. “We all want you to be happy. If you’re cool with it—and him—then we’re all cool.”

  He doesn’t say he wants Dev to be happy though. Or ask if Dev is cool with our situation.

  “Really, you should talk to Dev.” They all need to sit down and just clear the air. I wish I could simply set up a meeting, put Emotional Outpouring on the schedule, and have them get down to it. But my powers only go so far.

  “Sure,” Logan says as he gets up. “He knows where to find us.”

  My heart sinks. That’s not what I wanted to hear. They have to go to Dev since he doesn’t seem likely to go to them.

  Then I want to grind my teeth. If they weren’t such stubborn bastards… then they wouldn’t be the Bastards I know and love.

  “And you know where to find him,” I call as Logan leaves.

  “Except he hasn’t been in his office for days,” Logan says as he closes the door behind him.

  Which makes me worry all over again about Dev’s absence and how to fix… everything.

  Chapter 11

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  I blink up at Anjelica, who’s towering over my desk, her hands on her hips. She’s beautifully angry,
her eyes flashing and her color high.

  “I’m sorry?” I can’t think what I’ve done to piss her off. But then I can’t really think at all with how her chest is rising and falling, her lips parted and gleaming, and—

  “I can’t believe you.” She crosses her arms under her breasts, which doesn’t help matters.

  I lean back in my chair, forcing myself to be cold, calm. “I have no idea what you’re upset about.”

  “I just said.”

  I replay our conversation. “You’re mad that I was gone? But someone came by with food and everything, said they were sent by the firm. I figured someone knew where I was.”

  She waits, as if it’s totally reasonable for her to be angry about it even though she’s literally never cared before. I once disappeared into my apartment for a month—there was this coding problem I just couldn’t let go of—and she didn’t say anything about it. There was a junior associate coming over and bugging me every other day and food deliveries I don’t remember ordering, but not Anjelica.

  Fuck. The realization breaks over me like a storm cloud. “It was you.”

  She doesn’t play dumb. “Of course it was me! You’d die if someone wasn’t checking up on you. And while you may not care about us, we care about you.”

  “I care about you.” I say it quietly, simply. Not cold. Not blank.

  She presses her lips tightly together. “I got worried. I mean, I usually get worried when you just disappear, but I was really worried this time. After Poland… I didn’t know what you were thinking.”

  I was thinking about her offering me that slice of pear mostly. My lips on her knuckles, my tongue brushing her fingertip, the sweet stickiness of the juice… and the noise she made while her fingers were in my mouth.

  She was probably thinking mostly about the tree though. Fuchs being a little shit about the tree didn’t bother me as much as it did her.

  “I was working on something else.” Can she hear the hitch in my voice? “An algorithm for a start-up I invested in. I tend to lose track of things when I’m doing that.”