Secret

by Kindle Alexander

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dylan said softly. Tristan let that sit between them. He’d known those words were coming. For whatever reason, he loved last night and truly wanted to see Dylan again. But he could tell by the way Dylan acted that the man wasn’t ready to give up his life of hiding.

  “Hey, one night doesn’t make you an expert and you should see what they have planned for you guys tonight. I already bailed. Poker with topless serving girls… Not my thing at all.” Tristan pretended to shiver. “Your guys loved last night so much they changed things up. I got the update this morning.”

  “Y’all didn’t have to go to all this trouble. We didn’t need all that. Just a meeting with what you plan to offer would have been fine. That is, if you even intend to make an offer,” Dylan said, staring out the side window.

  “These things are always a wine and dine kind of deal. Wilder wants Secret. We want you to want to sell it to us over our competitors. We know you won’t really think that just because we can supply topless waitresses, we’ll take any better care of the baby you started from the ground floor,” Tristan stated matter-of-factly and laughed a little. Dylan gave a deep sigh.

  “I’m still not sure it’s a good idea. Last night was risky. I never do things like that.”

  “You’re a million miles away from home. Besides, there’s more I could teach you,” Tristan said. Coming to a stop light, he looked over at Dylan and waggled his eyebrows.

  “I’m not ready to bottom,” Dylan mumbled softly, doubt clear in his voice.

  “What about adding a third?” Tristan asked, pulling that out of thin air. Surprised by his own words, he immediately wanted to take them back. What was he thinking? Had he just pushed too far to get Dylan back to his house?

  “What? Do you know people like that?” Dylan asked incredulously, quickly covering his surprise.

  “Of course I do. Are you doubting my hookup skills?” Tristan chuckled and that had Dylan smiling.

  “No, not at all. I’m doubting mine more than likely.” Dylan scrubbed a hand over his face and ran his fingers through his hair before finally looking over at Tristan, perhaps more cautious than anything. Dylan hadn’t come right out and said no, but he hadn’t said yes either. He got the impression Dylan was more inquisitive than not, and curiosity was something he could work with.

  “Look, we can take a drive. If you’re interested in the other, I’ll have him on standby,” Tristan said, pulling onto the street where the hotel was located.

  “Guys just wait for you on standby?” Dylan asked disbelievingly.

  “This one will. I’ll pull up on the side of the building and you can get out, jog around if you want. I’ll see you later,” Tristan said, wishing he’d kissed Dylan before they left the house, but at the time, the guy was too spooked. Dylan got out, back in panic mode, never even saying goodbye.

  Tristan watched for a moment and lifted a hand, knowing it wouldn’t be returned. He drove away, wishing the guy who had made love to him so tenderly last night would have been the same guy he woke up to this morning.

  Instead of dwelling, he called his buddy Julian, explained the situation, and had him on standby for tonight. He made another call to ask Maria to pack him a dinner to-go. He mentally took inventory of the alcohol he had in the house. He could completely see why Dylan had stopped drinking since he had planned to hide his life away. He wasn’t a sloppy drunk. Hell, you couldn’t even tell he’d been drinking, but he was up for anything with liquor in his system. If Dylan wanted to drink tonight, there would be something available for him.

  As for Tristan, he wasn’t done with Dylan Reeves by a long shot. Dylan just needed to get on board with his plan.

  Dylan hightailed it up the stairs, bypassing the elevators, hoping to avoid David and Rob. Once he got inside the room, he’d tell them to go on without him. In stealth mode, he stuck his head out the stairwell door and looked around. The hall was empty. He jogged the few steps to his door. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t flat out told Tristan no. He’d always been curious about threesomes, even fantasizing about the act, but was it something he could actually go through with? As he pulled the card key from his wallet, David walked out of a room almost directly across the hall from his. Rob followed behind, catching him going inside his room. Dammit!

  “Hey, man, it’s time to leave. The driver’s here.” David waved a hand at him and his clothes.

  “Y’all go on without me. I’ll catch a cab there. I got caught up in the run and lost track of time.” His lie was so stupid he just kept his back to the guys, walked inside his room, intent on letting the door shut in their faces. Unfortunately, Rob was quicker and stuck a foot inside his door before it closed.

  “What happened to you last night?” Rob asked, pushing his way inside. It wasn’t unreasonable that he’d walked inside Dylan’s room uninvited. Thankfully, these were mini-suites. He busted a quick move, going into the bedroom section and ripping the bedspread off the bed, trying to make the mattress look like he’d slept there.

  “Nothing, man. That whole scene wasn’t for me. I came back to the room and caught up on messages,” Dylan lied again, that one more plausible while avoiding eye contact with either of them. He went to the closet, where his suitcase hadn’t been moved since he got there. He tried to cover that by keeping the closet door partially closed as he pulled out his toiletries bag.

  “I figured Teri would have kicked your ass if she knew you were there,” David said, clearly giving him a hard time.

  “Nah, she wouldn’t care. We’re just here for serious business,” Dylan started and couldn’t even finish the thought after everything he’d done last night with the key negotiator of the contracts. Fuck! How had that just occurred to him?

  “Did you talk to him last night? They’re pretty much saying they want us.” Dylan hadn’t talked to Tristan about any of this except to find out the schedule change for the night.

  “It’s gonna come down to numbers and whether they’re willing to take the whole staff or not. You guys know I don’t want anyone without a job,” Dylan replied, repeating the same thing he’d said before.

  “It’s a given, man. Stop worrying. They’re trying too hard to show us a good time,” Rob said. “You didn’t open your gift basket?” Dylan looked up and saw the overflowing basket sitting over in the corner. He hadn’t even seen the thing and decided to ignore that question.

  “I gotta dress. I’ll grab a cab and meet you guys at the office. Text me and tell me where to go.” Dylan stood in the doorway of the restroom, pulling the T-shirt over his head and tossing it toward the closet before starting the water. He shut the door in their faces when that hadn’t been enough to get them going. He dropped his underwear as he heard the main door to the room close and stepped under the spray.

  He felt reasonably comfortable that he dodged them well enough. They hadn’t appeared to pick up on his lies. Hell, he detested lying. And then he laughed at that thought. Except his whole life was a damn lie. Dylan reached for the hotel shampoo, opting not to step out onto the cold floor and dig through his bag soaking wet.

  He scrubbed his hair and then his entire body, washing away any traces of the man he’d spent the night with. He hated washing Tristan’s scent off him.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong last night,” he said out loud to himself, but his inner thoughts were far louder. He was disappointed in his actions. The alcohol had lowered his resistance, and he had given in to years of carefully hidden desires. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t act on these needs until his children were grown and gone. When they were babies, he thought eighteen made him an adult, so he had eighteen years to wait before he could explore his inner self. Chloe had proved that wrong not even a week ago. Besides, when he was eighteen, he’d been a binge drinker, living on his parents’ hard-earned dime, and had enough unprotected sex to have three children back to back.

  If he’d been as mature as he thought he’d been, he would have never brought
his babies into the world when he had no job, no education, no life whatsoever except partying and envisioning a great big, perfectly cut cock every time he fucked a woman.

  Last night had been a selfish, weak moment. He had promised himself, Teri, and his children he would wait and give them the foundation they deserved. After all, they hadn’t asked to be brought into this world. But he wanted what Tristan offered him tonight more than he was willing to admit, more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He scrubbed his soapy hands over his face.

  “It was just sex, Dylan. Teri has it all the time and no one knows.” He tried to reason with himself. He leaned back into the warm stream and rinsed the suds off his face. That was a good point, but his negative inner self wasn’t on board yet. She did manage to have an outside life. She balanced being an incredible mom, an attorney, and had a discreet long-term relationship. She had encouraged him to do the same thing. Why hadn’t he considered that before?

  Because he promised himself he’d wait. Finding out their mom had an affair was easier to deal with than finding out their father was gay and the whole life he’d created for them was a sham. Dylan reached for a towel and dried himself off before laying it neatly on the tile floor.

  He cracked open the bathroom door and wiped a hand towel across the mirror. He pulled out his shaving gear and went about his normal grooming routine. When it came to his hair, he usually let it air dry. He changed that up today. He pulled out the gel and used the hairdryer to flip the front off his forehead and lay the short sides just right. After closer inspection, he plucked at his eyebrows. He’d told himself he did all this to feel confident in their negotiations today.

  After a solid thirty minutes, he left the bathroom and headed to the closet. He dressed quickly. He chose his power suit—a pinstripe ensemble that the saleswoman swore he looked the best in. After years and years of wearing jeans and polos to work, he had to stand in front of the mirror to tie the knot correctly. The sound of a knock threw him off.

  He opened the door to find a delivery driver standing in the hallway, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. “I’m looking for a Dylan Reeves.”

  “That’s me,” he said, confused as the guy handed him the bouquet and a sealed note. Dylan took both, placing the flowers on a side table.

  “Hang on. I’ll get you a tip,” Dylan said, going in search of his wallet.

  “It’s okay. The tip was covered,” the delivery driver said, and he was gone. Dylan went back to the flowers. They were a pretty pavé-style mix. He opened the card, wondering if they were from Teri, but he saw a man’s penmanship scrawled across the notecard.

  I couldn’t have enjoyed last night more. You’re amazing. I’ve never enjoyed bottoming so well. You inspired me to send these. Let’s take that ride along the coast tonight. No pressure, just bail on dinner with them this evening.

  No signature.

  Dylan read the note twice before tearing the card into little small pieces and flushing them down the toilet after deciding the note’s destruction would be more permanent than a trash can, from which it could be pieced back together. He rolled his eyes at his own actions. Who in their right mind would even consider doing that? But he still completely disposed of the incriminating content.

  He decided he’d give the flowers to the front desk. He finished dressing. Tucked his wallet in his back pocket and his phone into the front breast pocket and smoothed his hand down the front of his trousers. With one last look in the mirror, he adjusted a stray hair back in place and went for the flowers.

  He’d never been given flowers before, and now he got why women liked them so much. He put them down, but then decided to go ahead and give them away. It didn’t look like he’d be spending too much time in this room and someone needed to enjoy them. He took his phone out, took pictures of them from every angle, then left the room with the flowers in hand.

  The concierge’s face lit up when Dylan handed over the bouquet downstairs. He asked for a cab and had one in seconds. He had to remember the use of a floral arrangement in the future. This one bouquet had secured his night with Tristan and gotten him a cab meant for someone else. They were magical things.

  In the conference room, Tristan watched as Dylan and the guys sat through hours of the Wilder executive team’s presentation as to why they should be given the right to buy Secret Networks, Inc. Tristan stayed quiet for most of the meeting and also during the proposal Wilder had put together with the specifics for acquiring Dylan’s company.

  Tristan understood body language; he’d used it to his advantage in many negotiations. Secret’s executive team put out all the right signs they were interested. Of course there were a few sticking points, but those weren’t anything that couldn’t be ironed out in the long run.

  What Dylan and his guys didn’t seem to understand was that they weren’t playing the buyout game correctly. They’d come in too low with their asking price. Honestly, Tristan would have assumed they’d have asked for about double what they did and probably would have gotten close through negotiations. He’d been clear to Landry he wanted to pay what they asked, but like what appeared to be the new normal with Wilder, Inc., Landry had gone around him. His COO had come into the meeting with a note waiting on top of Tristan’s presentation folder explaining Landry’s newly developed game plan to undercut the deal.

  Since he’d been substantially late, he hadn’t had time to change the course of the meeting.

  He didn’t know Dylan well, but he had learned he would never sign over Secret with Landry’s bottom-line condition. Landry was against Secret’s all-or-nothing employee stance. Specifically with David and Rob. Under Landry’s current transition plan, they really had no place for the two executives sitting across the table from them. Actually, Landry only wanted about fifteen percent of Secret’s current staff.

  Over the years, Tristan had trusted Landry’s decision-making ability. He’d never steered them wrong on anything other than their social media site. That situation was a lot like this one. Landry had something in his head that didn’t balance with what the consumer actually wanted.

  Wilder’s current social media division was a one hundred percent loss. No matter how much money they pumped into WilderNation, it still ranked at the bottom of the barrel in user access. Secret had accomplished what no other network on the planet had—undocumented social access that had a quarter of a million new users signing up every day. Tristan wanted that technology, and his gut told him Landry could blow the whole deal.

  After a few more minutes of staring at Dylan, who hadn’t looked his way since he entered the room, Tristan cleared his throat, stopping the flow of the presentation. “Can you all give me a few minutes alone with Mr. Reeves?”

  He could feel every eye turned his way. Dylan was slower to respond. He’d been reading from the contract and lifted his head, business clearly on his mind. But the minute their gazes met, Tristan got why Dylan had avoided eye contact. His gaze held a mixture of both heat and need. Sparks flew between the two of them and Tristan smiled.

  “You heard him,” Landry said and began shooing everyone out. As the last person left, Landry came to the center of the table, standing between the two of them. He clearly thought Tristan’s request hadn’t included him.

  “Landry, I need a private discussion with Mr. Reeves,” Tristan said, rising from his seat at the end of the table. Landry came immediately to him, standing in front of him, blocking Dylan from seeing or hearing anything he said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Landry whispered so quietly Tristan barely heard him. “We almost have them, I can see it.”

  Tristan cut his eyes over to Landry’s and motioned with his head for him to move along out the door with everyone else. Landry’s brow furrowed and he started to shake his head. Tristan stared at him with intense attitude until he finally left the room. Tristan had no doubt he’d stand right outside that door. There wasn’t too much of Wilder, Inc. that Landry wasn’t included in
, and he certainly wouldn’t like being put out of a meeting he’d orchestrated. Tristan moved to a chair directly beside Dylan who hadn’t uttered a single word since his request for privacy.

  “You look nice today,” Tristan said quietly, smiling as Dylan’s cheeks grew red.

  “Is that why you made everyone leave?”

  “No, of course not. I could have just told you later, but that whole look’s perfect on you. The hair’s hot. Pinstripes fit your frame remarkably well. You look taller, more intimidating. Great look for negotiations or the cover of GQ. You could do both.” Tristan scooted closer. “Did you get my flowers?” he asked even quieter.

  “I did. Thank you, but that was a risky move,” Dylan said, clearly ignoring the compliment.

  “I wrote and sealed the card myself. What did you do with the flowers?” Tristan leaned forward, then moved in a little more, smelling Dylan’s cologne. That had Dylan pushing back in his chair.

  “I gave them to the concierge that helped me this morning,” Dylan answered and then backtracked. “I didn’t think I’d be in my room very much and didn’t want them to go to waste.”

  “I figured you’d do something like that. It’s why I picked those colors. So that means you’re coming with me tonight?” Tristan asked, his eyes still focused directly on Dylan’s.

  “We’ll see how things go today. I’m not sure about all this. You lowballed me and I was just reading about the staffing…” Dylan started, but Tristan lifted a hand to Dylan’s lips to stop his words. He let his fingers linger as he spoke.

  “I don’t want to talk business yet. I honestly was only informed of the changes to personnel when I walked in today. From this point forward, you and I will decide how this sale goes, no one else, but before we do, I want to put personal before business because they are two separate entities between us. Will you please go with me tonight? I need to cancel some things if you’re not coming,” Tristan added at Dylan’s skeptical look.