by Lyn, Viki
A Rumored Affair
Viki Lyn
Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Tell Me What You Think
Out Of Bounds Except
Books by Viki Lyn
About the Author
A Rumored Affair
Copyright © October 2019 by Viki Lyn
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Viki Lyn’s e-books are for sale to adults only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase.
Author’s Note
Ever since I watched the movie The Sandpiper, an older film with Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor, I’ve dreamed of living the bohemian life of an artist with my studio overlooking the Big Sur coast. The next best thing is letting my characters live the life of my dreams. This book is set in Big Sur, California, one of the most spectacular coasts in the world. The restaurant Nepthene is wonderfully real, as is the fantastic Monterey aquarium. The resort is not, but I created Secretus from my research on the many resorts in the area. I hope you enjoy Graham and Chris’s love affair as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I want to thank Evan Smyth for his support and his excellent insights, my husband, who is my biggest fan, and all my readers who haven’t given up on me during my lean writing years.
1
The CEO of Winter Media glared at his assistant not sure if he should be insulted or flattered by the unexpected gift. Graham Winter lifted the linen envelope, eyeing it with suspicion. As soon as he had sat at his desk, Jillian had shoved the square parchment into his hand. He’d wished for a cup of coffee, instead. Not that Jillian would ever serve him. He’d learned that pearl of wisdom early on when a single-serve machine showed up on the office buffet table.
“Just accept it, okay?” Jillian said with exasperation. “You need a vacation, and I’m going to make sure you get one. Don’t even think of refusing. You’re going, or I’m handing in my resignation.”
“You’re not serious.” Jillian was as dedicated and married to her job as he was, and the thought of training a new assistant depressed him. Jillian understood his moods, what made him tick, kept his life in order.
“When I have to walk into your office on tiptoes, yeah, I’m serious.” Sitting on the sofa, Jillian adjusted her simple tailored skirt. Long legged and trim, she wore suits that emphasized her narrow waist. She was smart and beautiful, and the male employees stumbled over their words when dealing with her. Too bad he was gay. She would have made him the perfect wife.
“Come on, have I’ve been that bad?” Sure, he’d been irritable lately. Most of his staff avoided him unless it was necessary. Sighing loudly for effect, he motioned to Jillian. “You better tell me what this is about.” He read the hotel name listed on the card, ”Secretus.”
“It’s an all-gay resort,” she said, sporting a devilish grin.
Ah shit. What the hell was Jilly thinking?
“No way can I risk that. Freedom Press is a key contributor of neo-conservative candidates. If the owner finds out that I’m gay, that’s the end of the deal.”
Jillian’s nose wrinkled. “You know my feeling about FP. I think they stink.”
As did Graham, but from his perspective, he had no choice. “I don’t like their political agenda any more than you do, but this is a business decision, not a personal one. I’ve worked my ass off just to get us into the black. Freedom Press will shore up our bottom line.”
It did stink, but no matter his personal beliefs, his family and the company came first. The board consisted of his uncles, and most importantly his mother, who was accustomed to a lavish lifestyle.
Jillian ran her finger over her arched eyebrow. “You don’t need Freedom Press. You can still bow out. It’s not a done deal, yet.”
“I’ve made my decision. Look. I don’t like hiding my sexuality, but I need to be quiet about it. At least until I secure the deal.”
“Your sexuality will be safe at Secretus,” she said.
Jillian sounded so sure, but Graham wasn’t buying it. After all, he was in the media business and understood how rumor quickly became fact. “That can’t be guaranteed.”
“Listen.” She leaned forward. “The resort has a fascinating history. The owner doesn’t advertise. People find out through word of mouth. And the best part, it has a private beach and natural mineral springs. It was one of the first gay-exclusive resorts built during the dark ages.”
He smiled at Jillian’s millennial perspective. “You mean the ’60s?”
“No, 1974.”
He picked up the reservation card and reread the address. Big Sur, California. Wasn’t that a hippy haven? He was an East Coaster, through and through, and wasn’t too keen on the laid-back West Coast lifestyle.
“Why do I have to fly across the US?” he asked. “There’re plenty of places to chill on this side of the Rockies.”
Jillian rolled her baby blues. “You fly all over the world, and you’re complaining about a trip across the States? Didn’t you hear me? It’s an all-gay resort. Very private. No one will know who you are.”
“Are you trying to get me laid?” Annoyed at his assistant’s insight into his non-existent love life, Graham frowned.
“Would it be so bad if you met someone nice for a change? How much did the last asshole take you for?”
“He needed my help.” The young model was a beauty but had a terrible habit of spending more money than he earned.
Jillian sighed. “As I said, Mr. Fix-It. That’s not loving. That’s codependency. And he dumped your ass as soon as you bailed him out.”
“It’s not like I loved him.” This excuse sounded feeble even to Graham, and from the disbelief glinting in Jillian’s eyes, his assistant agreed.
“Yeah, he had a pretty face but nothing between his eyes.”
He grinned. “That’s not all that was pretty.”
“Ew. Stop. You’re going, and that’s final.” Jillian stood and smoothed down her skirt. Then she winked while sporting a mischievous smile that signaled to Graham that she’d won this battle. “And the resort assigns a private valet.”
“You are trying to get me laid!”
“You’re pathetic.” She went to the coffee machine and popped in a cartridge. “It’s a private concierge, not a call boy for your pleasure.” Her snicker echoed over the hiss of the coffee. “I asked. If you want any rom
ance, you’ll have to work at it. And God knows the last time you’ve been charming.”
Jillian was right about his life consisting of work and not much else. For some time, he had lost interest in socializing, and his friends had all but disappeared. Acquaintances used him for his position. Power and money spoke volumes, a give and take where both parties benefitted.
“Okay, okay. Stop your whining.” He let out a puff of disgust. “When do I leave?”
“In a week. It’s all arranged.” She set a demitasse cup of espresso on his desk.
“Serving me coffee now?” Trying to soften the blow was she, but he did appreciate the gesture.
“Don’t get used to it. I’ll tell the staff you’re leaving.”
“Keep your celebrating down. I don’t want to feel like I’m not wanted.”
Graham looked at the invitation again, then tossed the card on his desk. From what Jillian had said, Secretus sounded like a gay brothel rather than a resort. Still, she had pushed his emotional buttons to get him to reconsider his decision. Loneliness chased at his heels and had closed down his heart. Yes, he was lonely, and yes, he hadn’t had a long-term relationship since college. Usually he kept too busy to regret his past decisions. He twirled the cup around as he thought about all the work that would pile up while he was gone.
Fuck it. Maybe a vacation was what he needed to clear his head. He’d never signed up for this executive lifestyle. In and out of secret relationships, hiding his sexuality behind beautiful women, and even escorting his mother during social events. Could he get any more pathetic?
When he took over the reins of the company, he’d stepped in and locked the closet door behind him. This subterfuge depressed him, but the freedom to be gay demanded a high price.
What scared him about Secretus was once he tasted the freedom of being out, if only for a couple of weeks, would he be able to stuff himself back into the closet a second time around?
2
The tires of Graham’s convertible kicked up gravel as he steered into a parking slot in front of Secretus’s lobby. The drive from the San Francisco airport had been exhilarating. The scent of the redwoods and salty air sure beat the noxious car fumes of the city. And what a road—hugging breathtaking cliffs that buffered the furious waves several feet below.
He unfolded from the driver’s seat and eased the kinks in his neck. Within seconds, a bellhop dressed in khaki shorts and matching shirt greeted him with a warm hello, loaded his luggage on the cart, and rolled it through the double doors.
After entering the lobby, he paused and took in the spacious common area. The stunning view of the ocean sparkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The coast was impressive, as was the modern décor, simple elegance, and light-wood furniture placed strategically around the lobby, encouraging the guests to sit and mingle. Several men sat by the fireplace, chatting it up. A few couples were sipping cocktails from tables placed along the windows for the best viewing.
Not a bad-looking group of guests. He’d return later and see if anyone caught his interest.
By the time he reached the reservation desk, his agitation at being corralled into coming here had all but vanished. Why not enjoy a few days without the pressure of work?
The hotel clerk behind the counter beamed. “May I be of service?”
Graham’s eyes widened. Yeah, he wouldn’t mind being serviced by… He peered at the nametag. Josh.
Josh was quite a looker. Fresh boyish face, a boy next door—not that Graham had neighbors this attractive.
He handed over his reservation card. “I’m Graham Winter.”
Josh typed the information into the terminal, and his smile disappeared. “One moment, please.” He entered in the info again, his charming smile all but vanished.
Graham propped his elbows on the counter and leaned in. A quizzical look on a clerk’s face was never a good sign. “Is there a problem? That card got me through the gates.”
“Could you have registered under another name?”
“I only have the one. So what’s the issue?”
Josh gave Graham what had to be his apologetic smile. “It appears there isn’t a reservation under your name or this number.”
“That’s impossible. My assistant doesn’t make mistakes. And this confirmation was sent to my office after she made the reservation.”
“Yes, sir. Let me check again.” Josh picked up a cell phone and moved out of earshot from Graham.
Graham drummed his fingers on the counter as he waited. What a fiasco. He’d already wasted a day getting here, and if they didn’t have a room, they’d hear about it all the way to the East Coast.
Josh turned to Graham. “Ah, sir?”
“Yes…” he grumbled, not bothering to hide his frustration.
To his credit, Josh didn’t flinch but faced him eye-to-eye.
“I’m afraid there was a glitch in the system. I’m so sorry, but we’re completely booked. I can call another resort for you. We’ll have availability within a couple of days. Of course, we’ll pick up the room charge.”
Cute as Josh was, Graham would challenge him. In his younger years, he had avoided confrontation, preferring everyone got along. When he took over the reins of Winter Media, that sentiment went the way of the newspaper.
Not even his first day in California, and he had to play the asshole. Forget about chilling out. From his experience, hotels always had a room tucked away for unexpected situations like this one. “I didn’t come three thousand miles to be told you have no rooms. Let me talk to your manager.”
“I am the manager.”
“Then I’ll talk with your boss.”
“Yes, of course. I understand how upsetting this must be.” Josh picked up the phone again. “Just one moment, please.”
Josh kept his cool, not a roll of the eyes or a twitch of his upper lip… Impressive. While Graham waited, a bartender carrying a tray with a cocktail showed up by his side.
“For you, sir, compliments of the house. Brandy Manhattan.”
How the hell did they know that was his preferred drink of choice?
“Er, thanks.”
The bartender led him to a stool. “Please take a seat at the bar. Josh will come to you.”
The breeze from an open window cooled his temper while the drink soothed his nerves. Despite the situation, he felt the pressures of his job receding as he listened to the low hum of conversation. He could breathe freely here. No way did he want to stay in another hotel. And besides, a good-looking guy was giving him the once-over.
Graham smiled back.
Before he could make a move, Josh showed up.
“Mr. Chris Katsaros will see you in his office. He’s the owner.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Then, by all means, lead the way.”
Graham downed the last of the cocktail—really, it was too good to waste—and followed Josh across the spacious lobby and out the door.
Once outside, Josh stopped Graham with a light tap to his shoulder and pointed to a paved road. “This path leads up the hill. It’s the only house at the end of the road, so you can’t miss it. His office is around the back through the gate. His door is always open, so just walk in. He’s expecting you. I can radio for a cart to take you?”
“I prefer to walk.”
“Yes, of course. It’s a beautiful day.”
Graham shrugged out of his suit jacket and slung it over his arm. By the time he reached the top of the hill, he was determined to stay. The grounds and the views were a visionary treat, and the owner took care of the details. The resort had all the makings of a first-class hotel without the pretentiousness he’d come to disdain. The best part were the openly affectionate gay couples, holding hands, kissing in public, and being themselves.
Raised with the belief that there was a solution for every problem, there had to be a place to stay somewhere on these spacious grounds. The owner was not going to fob him off on a stodgy hotel catering to straight, rich fuck
s.
More determined than ever, Graham strode through the gate confident he had this, and completely oblivious that meeting Chris Katsaros would change him in the most profound way.
3
This major clusterfuck should never have happened. Chris Katsaros would have to call Honda Bergen as soon as he finished with Graham Winter. Good thing Honda was Chris’s best friend. This ensured Chris 24-7 on-call tech service.
Before the bull came storming in, Chris did a quick Internet search on Graham Winter’s name. Several pages popped up on the screen. He clicked on the Winter Media web page and his heart tilted in his chest.
Holy shit. The guy owned Gossipy!—the worst of the worst rumor-mill rags in the country.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Maybe he should call Josh to sit in on the meeting. Tact was not one of Chris’s strong points, and he’d need backup in dealing with the CEO of Winter Media. That’s why Josh was the front man, and the face of Secretus, because he handled people with ease while Chris preferred hiding in his office, away from the daily business of running a world class resort.
Chris had been informed that all thirty bungalows were rented until five days from now. Thankfully Josh had had the foresight to call the Coastal Pines and reserve a room. In all the years Chris had been managing Secretus, he’d never had this problem. Now he had to contend with an angry guest who was huffing and puffing toward his office.
Chris clicked on the images, his mouth puckering as pictures of Graham Winter came into view. A few of the photos showed the impeccably dressed executive at social events with his mother? Other pictures had him coupled with beautiful women. One caption read “America’s most eligible bachelor.” So this eligible bachelor was a closeted fuck?
