Healing Hark (Doms of Chicago)

by Trace, Dakota

  Hark shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Yeah. He does some amazing paintings of women.” Hark kept it to himself that he thought it was odd a gay man would be attracted to the scantily clad and voluptuous women Boris was known to create. Something must have shown on his face because Bryan sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I can't admire a woman's body for its beauty. It's no different than my love of cheeseburgers. I may enjoy them, but I sure the hell won’t be inviting them into my bed.”

  Hark couldn't help but laugh at the defiant pout on the other man's face. “Point taken. Sorry, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions.”

  Bryan wandered over to the bondage bed. “Then why did you?”

  Hark leaned against the wall. “Unlike you and your master, I happen to enjoy men and women - both in bed and out of it. So when I look at a pretty woman, I occasionally wonder how she’d look spread under me. It's going to take me some time to get used to being around men who look at women with no physical desire.”

  Understanding lit up Bryan's face. “Oh. Well, if you stick around, you’ll find neither Master nor I will raise a fuss if you want to bring a woman home.”

  Old memories of the last argument he'd had with Diachi tried to surface, and Hark ruthlessly pushed them back down. Now wasn't the time to rip open old wounds, so he simply nodded. Let Bryan keep his illusions. There’s no way Diachi will ever let me bring a woman into his home. But like his Staff Sergeant had said many times, discretion was the better part of valor. “I'm not in a relationship at the moment, but thank you.”

  “Well just remember the offer is open. A month is a long time to go without sex. And Lord knows Master and I’ll be indulging. It’d be cruel to ask you abstain when we won’t.”

  Hark chose to let the comment slide. The last thing he wanted to think about was how hot it would be to watch the two men make love. Another reason this is a bad idea. Because sure as shit if I hear them, I’m going to want to do more than watch. He drew a deep breath. Time to change the subject before he got himself into trouble. “If the tour is over, I'd like to return downstairs. I have a few phone calls to make and an e-mail to write before lunch. I can do that on my cellphone as long as you have Wi-Fi.”

  “There’s no need. If you want, use the computer in my office. Although I’ll admit I’m curious to what it is you do which would require emailing. Do you sell your whittling online?”

  Hark shook his head. “No. Whittling is just for me. I consult on some of the more difficult cases for Larson Securities.”

  Surprise showed on Bryan's face, but he quickly masked it. “You work for Jude?”

  “Occasionally. At the moment, they’re working on a rather nasty stalking case.”

  “Stalking. Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Only for the person doing the stalking. The person should’ve taken no for an answer, instead of hounding a young woman and her child.”

  “What bastard harasses a woman and child?” Bryan stiffened and scowled.

  Hark moved toward the steps. “A man who’s living on borrowed time. He’ll never do it again once I catch him.” He reassured Bryan before pausing by the door. As he waited for Bryan to jump down from the bondage bed, the blank wall caught his attention again. “You really should reconsider the idea of having something painted on that wall. It'd be a perfect canvas for a mural. Just looking at it has me itching to hold a brush again. I haven’t painted one in quite some time, but Gabriel asked me to do one for Sophia’s nursery at their new home as a surprise for Zhenya. It’s almost finished except for the fine details. I’m supposed to go later this week and put the finishing touches on it.”

  Bryan chuckled. “Sophia’s a sweetheart, but I think we’ll skip the cuddly stuffed animals and blocks, if you don’t mind. Doesn’t quite fit the theme of our playroom.” Bryan pulled the door shut and they headed back downstairs. Bryan cursed when they entered the living room and the small grandfather clock chimed eleven. “Crap. I need to get ready for work. I’m sorry, I was able to reschedule most of my morning things, but I have a luncheon meeting in less than an hour with my uncle I couldn’t get out of. Feel free to help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. Diachi always keeps plenty of fresh veggies and cold cuts around.”

  Hark nodded as the man headed toward the master suite.

  “Oh, and if you want, please use my computer.” Bryan paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s not password protected since I keep all my business files on my other laptop. All you should have to do is power it on.” Then he disappeared into the room. Hark couldn’t help but feel suddenly abandoned. Scolding himself for being foolish, he headed back to the basement. First things first! He had some glass to clean up, even if he decided not to stay.

  * * * *

  "Afternoon, Mr. Sterling. Here are your messages." His executive assistant, Sharonda, handed Bryan a stack of pink slips. She’d been with him for nearly ten years and as usual she was dressed immaculately in a neat dove gray pencil straight skirt and white lace blouse. Her auburn hair was done up in an elaborate French twist, while a pair of thin framed glasses were perched on her nose, hiding her beautiful hazel eyes. "The most important ones are on top and your uncle is waiting inside – wearing a hole in your carpet."

  He nodded, accepting the pink papers. "Thank you, Shar. I'll take a look at these in a bit. Today's conference with Corbin is important. I’m only taking calls from Diachi until the meeting with the investigator is over."

  As CEO and a member of the Board of Directors for Sterling Foods, the responsibility had fallen on him, and his uncle – his only living relative, to meet with the private investigator they'd hired to find out who was not only leaking company secrets, but also attempting to sabotage their newest line. It made him sick knowing someone within the company would even think about selling out their trade secrets to a competitor - especially when he took really good care of all of his people.

  "Of course, Mr. Sterling.” Shar nodded. “I also took the liberty of ordering a light lunch for you and your uncle. I also included a pot of your favorite tea as well, much to Mr. Reimal’s distain."

  He smiled down at her. "Yeah, my uncle thinks only women drink tea.” He shrugged his shoulders. “One day, you, my dear Sharonda, are going to be a wonderful wife to some lucky man. But hopefully not too soon."

  Shar pursed her lips, then mock-scolded him. "Enough flattery, young man...get your butt in there and deal with the old man."

  He chuckled. "But I'm only a year younger than you..."

  She reached for the top drawer on the desk. He held his hands up. "Whoa, no need to get the ruler out. I'm going. I'm going. Just let me know when the investigator shows up."

  "Will do," she answered quickly before turning back to her computer. "Now go. I have several quality checks to schedule, along with the notes to prep for your meeting with Easton later this afternoon."

  “You’re the best.” She harrumphed as he slipped past her huge mahogany desk guarding the portal to his inner sanctum.

  Entering his office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see his uncle, Corbin, pacing back and forth between the window and the bookcase. As usual the older man was wearing a rumpled suit and crooked tie. Sometimes Bryan wondered if the man dressed in the dark, or simply didn’t care about his appearance. It was a good thing he was the head of research and development. Rarely did he meet with anyone outside his own department. Setting his briefcase on the desk, Bryan resisted the urge to inhale the fragrant Irish Breakfast Tea sitting on the serving cart. Dealing with his uncle was the last thing he wanted to do after his unsettling visit with his Master’s former submissive. “Good afternoon, Uncle Corbin.”

  "So you finally decided to drag your sorry butt into the office? If your father was here…” Corbin crossed his arms over his chest. His displeasure was evident on every line of his face, along with the way he held his body.

  “I had a private matte
r to take care of this morning.” Opening his briefcase, he began pulling out the files he’d brought home over the weekend. “Dad would’ve understood. He was a family man first and the CEO of Sterling Foods, second.”

  Just as Corbin opened his mouth to toss out the normal insults on what he considered weaknesses in his brother-in-law, there was a rap on the door.

  “Mr. Tierney is here.” Sharonda ushered in a rather attractive, dark haired man. Tall, the man looked to be nearly six foot four, if Bryan were to guess, and had to be at least three hundred pounds. He could only remember ever meeting one man larger than the investigator, and it was the man he’d left sitting at his kitchen table, munching on a bologna sandwich. His dick stirred, but he shoved the thought aside. He was here to focus on work. According to the Board, and his uncle in particular, Keefer Tierney came highly recommended and was remarkably effective at his job. Bryan could only hope the investigator had found something.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Tierney. Sit, please. Would you like something to drink? We have refreshments.” Bryan moved over to the serving cart.

  “A soda would be great.” Keefer settled down into the chair.

  Bryan nodded, retrieving a cold can of pop. After exchanging it for the file Keefer offered, he propped his hip on the corner of his desk. Setting the folder on the desk, he turned to face the man. “I’m so happy you could reschedule our meeting for this afternoon. I had an unavoidable family emergency, but this is an important matter to me, and I’ve been looking forward to your update.”

  Keefer took a sip of his drink before setting it aside. “I wish I had more to report. At the moment everyone seems to be happy with the way you run the company for the most part, and I haven’t seen anything or anyone who tips off my ‘spidey sense’. There’s the usual grumbling about hours and not enough pay, but nothing out of the ordinary to worry about. One thing humans always want…is more money for less work.”

  Bryan chuckled. “True.” Picking up the file on his desk, he scanned it quickly. “So you couldn’t find anything out of place?”

  Keefer shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I can keep looking if you want, but frankly, what we’re looking at here, in my honest opinion, are some rather bizarre coincidences.”

  “See? I told you. It was nothing more than incompetence or errors from some of our employees. Nothing dastardly going on.” Corbin joined him at the desk. “Thank you, Mr. Tierney. Our accounting department will send you a check. ”

  “Stop.” Bryan glared at Corbin, then spoke directly to Keefer. “Look, I just can’t shake the feeling there’s something going on. Not only did a whole freezer of our new food line get destroyed because of some malfunction in the wiring of the unit, but the hard copy of the enzyme formula for the bread base was mysteriously misplaced for nearly twelve hours. Someone finally found it misfiled in a different cabinet.”

  Corbin’s cheeks reddened as he clenched his fists. “I told you what was going on. It’s Easton’s fault. He’s covering for his staff’s incompetency. And you’re a fool if you keep paying this man to look into a situation that’s nothing more than screw ups you refuse to acknowledge, solely because of your relationship with him. The damned gluten-free line has been a failure since the very beginning. It should’ve been eighty-sixed before it even left the planning stages.” His uncle spun around and stalked toward the door. He glanced over his shoulder to issue one last warning. “Just remember it’s the Board’s money you’re wasting and they won’t take this lightly. Keep beating a dead horse and you won’t have a company to worry about.”

  Rubbing his hand over of the back of his neck, Bryan winced as Corbin slammed the door behind him. He looked at his investigator and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Hmmm, anger issues, that one.” Keefer shifted. “Are you sure he’s not the one sabotaging you? If I didn’t know better, I’d think he doesn’t fully support your new line.”

  Squeezing the bridge of his nose, Bryan sighed. “He’d be behind it a hundred percent if I’d sell it for three times the cost.” Straightening, he rounded his desk. “Don’t worry about him. Just keep your eyes open for me for a bit longer. If nothing else comes up missing or damaged in the next two weeks, we’ll call it off.”

  Keefer stood. “You got it.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “Same as usual? Daily reports?”

  “Yeah, and have Sharonda schedule another meeting for you in two weeks.” Bryan spun around in his chair, his head pounding. He barely heard the door close behind him. He couldn’t get his uncle’s accusations out of his mind. Was Corbin right? Was he turning a blind eye to Easton’s faults just because they were friends?

  “Damn. There’s only one way to find out.” Turning back around he reached for the phone on his desk. “Sharonda…have Easton come to my office. I’ve moved our meeting up from later today. And I need those notes ASAP.” Releasing the button, he leaned back in his chair. God, there were days it sucked to be the boss.

  Chapter Six

  “Hey boss, you wanted to see me?”

  The male voice had Bryan looking up from papers in front of him. Easton King, the vice president of new products stood in the doorway, casual in his charcoal slacks and hunter green cashmere sweater. In one hand, the other man held an insulated cup of coffee and in the other arm several manila folders. Bryan motioned him to come in before turning his attention back to the protesting plant manager on the other end of the phone.

  “Look, enough excuses. I understand equipment breaks down and the employees get sick. It happens but at the moment, I don’t care what the long-term schedules say. The shipment was expected on the promised date. This contract with Kroger’s is one of our longest standing accounts. If you need to shift the orders around to complete it, then do it.” Setting aside the profit-margin analysis report, Bryan growled a good-bye before hanging up the phone. “Please sit, Easton.”

  Lowering his fit form into the chair across from Bryan’s desk, Easton set his coffee and folders on the small table between the two chairs. Dark brown eyes met his as he crossed his ankle over the opposite knee. “What’s so important that I had to cancel my daily staff meeting with my department? Did we find out who’s responsible for the damages?”

  Bryan shook his head. “No. The investigator’s still drawing blanks. And my uncle’s fighting me every step off the way. He swears it’s either simply human error or more likely complete incompetence on the part of the project’s lead.” Bryan raked his hand through his hair.

  Easton stiffened and swore softly. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! You dragged my ass in here like a kid who fucked up and got sent to the principal’s office because of that asshole? You know the only reason he keeps shoving the blame on me is because he’s still holding a grudge about not getting the project. This is fucking bullshit.”

  Bryan stiffened. He’d known Easton would probably not be happy being called to his office in such a manner, but the last thing he needed was the Board claiming he was showing preferential treatment toward his friend. “This has nothing to do with who was assigned to the lead.”

  Easton raked his hand through his hair. “Of course it does. Mr. High and Mighty R & D can’t stand the idea that he, for once, didn’t get total control of a new project. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s responsible for the setbacks we’ve experienced. As a research head, he has keys to every lab in the place and…”

  Digging his fingers into the arms of his executive style chair, he strove to let Easton vent without losing his own cool. The pressure building all day was only getting worse, and more than anything he wanted to go home to his master – his oasis. Then he remembered their guest. Fuck, but even at home there’s no peace.

  As Easton continued to rant about how fucked up the situation was, Bryan drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. He should’ve expected Easton to be pissed, but had hoped the other man would keep his cool. But as his friend continued to cast accusations, it did nothing more than put the prov
erbial icing on the cake of an already shitty day. Finally fed up, he smacked his palm on his desk. “Enough!”

  At the sharp rap, the words coming out of Easton’s mouth froze as the man stared at him in surprise.

  “I’m tired of the god-damned blame game everyone has going on. Here’s what I know for a fact.” He lifted his hand and began to tick off each one on his fingers. “One, I had a meeting with the investigator and my uncle today. Two, even after two weeks of intense supervision, we’re no closer to finding out who the hell is sabotaging us than when we started. And three, I’ve put too much time and effort into seeing this project come to light to tolerate insubordination from the head of my new products line. Especially when I’ve done nothing but defend your ass to the Board ever since I gave you the project.”

  Easton glared at him. “So your solution to the mess is to drag me into your office? What’s that going to do, other than piss me off? Which it has. Or is it to save face with the damned Board?” He grabbed the folders off the table. “I’ve told you – my people are clean. Even before the incidents started, Security was monitoring their every move. The sabotage must be coming from outside my department. But if you don’t like the way I’m running it – then bring your ass downstairs and you do it.” Easton surged to his feet to toss the files on the desk in front of Bryan. “Because frankly I’m tired of the interference and inference my people are fucking up your baby. There are the damned reports you requested. I’ve got a department to run and product to see through to completion.”

  Finally pushed to the point of no return, the leash on Bryan’s temper snapped. “Move toward that door and you can find another job, Easton.”

  Shock crossed his friend’s face and the man gaped at him. “You’d fire me over an unfounded accusation? Un-fucking-believable. Not only am I struggling to bring your dream to life–”