Evan

by Allie K. Adams

  “You’re finished. We need to talk.”

  “About what?” He wiped his mouth on a napkin. This didn’t sound good. The sudden change of Walsh’s voice made it that much worse.

  “I got a call from HQ.”

  Evan dropped the napkin into the trash and looked at him, immediately tense. Please don’t let it be something to do with this bullshit request to spy on Clint. “And?”

  “Seems they received an anonymous tip on Duke Enterprises taking over Kelley’s.”

  Oh, shit. He knew about that? Of course, he did. TREX probably sent out a memo. “Really?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

  “Why would I know anything about that?”

  “Sit.” Once Evan returned to his seat, Walsh took the one next to him. “Did you ask your sister to look into Clint Duke?”

  The call he wished he’d never made. It was no use lying. Walsh already knew the truth. Evan nodded and dropped his head, shame weighing him down. He was so eager to save Kelley’s that he put a covert agency expertly trained in digging up anything on anyone on the very fine tail of the new owner.

  It went from bad to worse from there. They’d already said there were anomalies in the financials. Clint’s payments to ensure the silence of his partners would lead the agency to the contracts. They’d learn of Clint’s interesting, albeit unusual, tastes and the fact he needed an agreement in writing before taking a lover. More than that, they’d soon discover Evan’s name on that troubling guest list.

  “Got something you want to tell me?”

  Walsh’s question forced Evan’s mind back into the conversation. He was so screwed. “No, sir.”

  “Let me remind you of something, McKoy. We are not TREX. Our only association with the agency is a dotted line on an org chart. We do not instigate, nor do we engage in any of the work they do. Is that understood? All requests for agency involvement go through me. I decide what gets to HQ.”

  “Understood.”

  “There’s more at stake than stopping a takeover of a company of no concern to national security. You tied up resources chasing down leads on a deal no one cares about.”

  I care. His argument wouldn’t help the situation, so he simply replied with, “Yes, sir.”

  “Lucky for you, it wasn’t for naught. They found something.”

  The payoffs for silence. Had to be. Should he say something? It broke about every rule keeping something like that from the team investigating the lead. If it came out that Evan knew about the payments and didn’t say anything, he could end up in a hell of a lot of trouble—both with the agency and his sister.

  If he said something, he’d lose Clint before they ever got the chance. Once he found out TREX had him under investigation and that Evan had given them the lead, Clint would kick him out of his life anyway.

  The decision was clear. He’d ask for forgiveness and hope his sister wouldn’t kill him. He searched the RD’s eyes as he came clean. “I know about the large payments.”

  “Because your sister told you about them.”

  “I also know why he made them. It’s not what you think.”

  Walsh studied him for several seconds. As much as Evan wanted to look away to regroup, he held on until Walsh broke contact and stood. Only then did he stare at the counter and blow out a long breath to slow his sporadic pulse.

  “How long have you known?” His voice strained under the weight of disappointment lacing his tone. It destroyed Evan to hear something so heavy coming from the man.

  He swallowed, forcing the lump in his throat back into the pit of his churning stomach. “I just found out last night. Meg called me and told me about the payments.”

  “She didn’t tell you why.”

  “No.” He shook his head as the mass of guilt squeezed his chest. “That I found out later.”

  “How?”

  “I, uh…” He glanced at Walsh and couldn’t stand that look of suspicion clouding his eyes, so returned his attention to the counter. How could he admit to putting it all together? Even he couldn’t pin it down. Was it when he read it in the contract? When he toured the playroom? When he agreed to be Clint’s sub for one night on a trial basis? Very little of last night’s actions painted him in a good light, so he simply said, “I just know.”

  “Don’t make me beat it out of you, Evan.”

  “Can’t I tell you what I know without you knowing how I got it?”

  “It doesn’t work that way. All intel must be verified. We can’t do that without knowing the details behind how you got it.”

  Think, McKoy. There had to be a way to explain it without going into too much detail. He’d stick to the truth and carefully omit a few of the specifics. “Clint Duke hired me as his personal shopper, which turned into his personal assistant last night at the bar.”

  “Bar?”

  “That’s another story. Meg told me to use my position as his personal assistant to dig up intel on Clint Duke and feed it to the agency. That’s where I was last night and why I was late this morning.”

  “All of this is very interesting, but it still doesn’t explain how you discovered the reason behind the payments.”

  “Through paperwork.” All in all, not a lie. “Lots and lots of paperwork. It’s one of the perks of being a personal assistant. Not only do you get to be at the beck and call of someone too busy to read his own contracts, you also get to file lots and lots of paperwork.”

  “Contracts, huh? You sticking to that story?”

  He nodded and forced a smile.

  “So be it. You figured it out by reading paperwork. That’s now my story, too. Better you than me. I can barely read the back of a cereal box.”

  Evan knew better. Despite his bluegrass appearance and a vocabulary that made him sound like the whiskered sidekick in a spaghetti western, Leo Walsh was brilliant. If he expected to convince Evan otherwise, he’d have to try harder than that. “Any other questions?”

  “Not on that topic.”

  Great. That meant there were more.

  “Everything okay with you?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. The new look, for starters.” He lifted his gaze to Evan’s disheveled hair.

  “I didn’t have time to apply product.” Why was everyone so obsessed with his hair today? “That’s it.”

  “Fine, don’t tell me. Don’t confide in the man who took you in and gave you food, clothes, a roof over your head. I got you back on your feet, got you that job at Kelley’s.”

  “I got me the job at Kelley’s,” he corrected. Walsh didn’t sit through an interview with Peter IV, sweating profusely in a borrowed suit.

  “I gave you the means. But, hey, who needs loyalty?”

  “Fine,” Evan groaned as Walsh’s guilt trip worked. “I may have met someone.”

  Walsh’s bushy gray brows shot up. “Oh? Does that someone have a name? That maybe rhymes with fluke?”

  “No,” he lied and hated it, but had no choice. As long as Evan had any say, he’d keep their relationship a secret. He was an out-and-proud gay man. That wasn’t the issue. Even Clint’s ridiculous need to convince the world he preferred women over men wasn’t the issue. The arrangement they had—where Evan submitted to Clint in ways he had yet to understand—wasn’t something he wanted out in the open.

  “Let me give you a bit of advice, Evan. Keep your pleasure out of your business and vice versa. Trust me. You’ll thank me later. Now, let’s get back to the topic of why you know about the payments.”

  Shit. He had hoped they’d moved past that topic. How could he tell Walsh and not break the NDA Clint had him sign? Although he’d been in a hurry to sign it so he’d be able to see the playroom for the first time, he did at least scan it. He knew how NDAs worked. He wasn’t allowed to discuss the arrangement or any details of what he’d been exposed to—that included the payments.

  He’d be as vague as possible and hope for the best.
“What do you want to know?”

  “I know what your sister asked you to do. She doesn’t have the authority to bring you in on something like this. I, however, do.” He eyed Evan cautiously. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  He couldn’t breathe. “Do what?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. You know what. Are you willing to step in as the inside man on this?”

  If it kept TREX pacified until he could come up with something better, he’d do it. With a hard swallow, he simply answered, “Yes.”

  “It means feeding intel back to me. In essence, you’ll be spying on Duke. You may have to tell me things you don’t want to tell me. Sensitive things. Private things. You get what I’m saying?”

  Now he wanted to throw up. “How much do you already know?”

  “Enough to tell you this is going to get very awkward very quickly.”

  “Like how quickly?”

  “Like with my first question. There’s no easy way to ask this, so I’m just gonna come out with it. Is Clint Duke paying you to have sex with him?”

  12

  Evan knew better than to answer the question. He’d learned that the hard way when he volunteered the wrong answer at a Kelley’s staff meeting once and got stuck doing inventory over a three-day weekend. If he so much as nodded slightly, Walsh would pounce, using the gesture as full-on buy-in. He knew from experience he wouldn’t be able to outsmart the man. Judging by that sharp look in his eyes, he channeled his persuasion techniques into a single glare.

  He decided to answer the question with one of his own. “Is spying on Clint the only way to get TREX to back off?”

  “It may be too late for that. Those large payments made to seemingly random people? There is a pattern.”

  “There is?” Oh shit. He was still in shock that his panic-induced plea to save Kelley’s turned into TREX investigating his new boyfriend. Make that his soon-to-be ex. No way would Clint even allow him back in the penthouse after this.

  “It didn’t take much to find it, either. There’s a recipient in every city Duke Enterprises has an office.”

  His heart seized over that little bit of news. “What?”

  “There are a lot of offices around the world.”

  “Every office?”

  “Every office,” Walsh confirmed, followed by a nod. “I hate to say it, but looks like Duke is paying a nice chunk of change to keep a booty call at his beck and call wherever he does business.”

  “What?” Was he just one of many subs in Clint Duke’s harem? The thought of Clint saying any of the things he’d said to Evan as part of his strategy to have Evan be his Seattle-based sub churned in his gut. He dropped his attention to the counter and struggled to breathe.

  “Since some of the payments are international, it’s enough to open an inquiry on Duke.” He left the kitchen and returned with a thin file. “They don’t have much, yet. You and I both know what they’ll find when they start digging deeper.” He sat at the counter and eyed Evan. “Is your name going to come up on that list of gigolos?”

  He flinched at the word. “I’m not a gigolo.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe I got it wrong. You’re not in a relationship with Duke? He doesn’t pay you to be at his beck and call?”

  “I’m his personal assistant.” He now wondered how many other men Clint had at his beck and call under the same guise.

  “Let me ask it another way. How well do you know Clint Duke? Like, in the biblical sense.”

  “Why should that matter?” he asked quietly, hating having to ask it at all.

  Walsh colored and blew out a breath. Why did it make some straight people so uncomfortable to talk about gay sex? “It matters.”

  “Why?”

  “Duke has his sexual partners sign contracts before he engages in any type of physical relationship.” Walsh read from the file before lifting his gaze. “You know that, right?”

  “Yes,” he admitted as his cheeks heated. “I know that.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  He refused to answer. No, he wasn’t okay with that. He wanted to be with Clint. Period. If signing a contract got him what he wanted, he didn’t see the harm. “What is this? Some sort of intervention?”

  “Just making sure you know what you’re getting into. I can only hold off the agency for so long. They will eventually put it together, too. You know TREX has—”

  “Eyes and ears everywhere,” Evan finished, never hating that fact more than he did right now. He stopped himself from inhaling sharply and feigned disinterest in the comment even though the fact TREX knew about the contracts had his heart rate spiking. He didn’t react. On the surface. Everything stayed on the surface. “Is that what this is about? You think I’m in some sort of contract with Duke for sex?”

  “I don’t know what to think. I know guys like Clint Duke.”

  “Gay?” He couldn’t stop himself from hitting Walsh with that little jab.

  “Control freak,” he fired back, not taking the bait. “He’s all about control. Over every aspect of his life. That includes you.”

  “I know that.”

  “Look, if you want to enter into a contract with Duke, I can’t stop you. What you do outside the job is your business.”

  “That it is.”

  “Just be careful,” Walsh added quietly. “You haven’t gone through any type of rigorous training like TREX fields agents have to. You might not pick up on the tells I’ve already picked up on.”

  He wanted to tell him he wasted his time. He wanted to storm out like the drama queen he tended to be at times. But, more than anything else, he wanted to hear him out. “I’m listening.”

  “To be blunt. Do you really think Duke hired you as a legit shopper, personal or otherwise? Hell, no. He hired you as a way to get inside.”

  “He owns the company,” Evan countered. “He already has the inside.”

  “You don’t get what I’m saying, son. Kelley’s has been a family business since the day they opened their doors. Duke is a businessman. A very rich, very heartless, businessman. Nothing else matters to him but the bottom line. He needs someone on the inside to feed him information. Who better than someone who’s been around for a decade and knows just about every person in the company? Not to mention someone who shares his same, shall we say, tastes. You were targeted, boy. Clint Duke is using you to get inside.”

  Evan ignored the pinch of doubt in his chest that made it hard to breathe. Clint couldn’t be using him. They’d reached each other on another level. He’d pulled feelings and emotions out of Evan he didn’t even know he had in him. No way could any of this be an act.

  But then slowly, painfully, the truth sank in. Why else would someone at the level of Clint Duke give him a second glance, let alone hire him out of the blue as his personal assistant? Add in the bone-shattering hand job last night—twice—the contract to throw him off, the constant sexual tension as a distraction… It all led to the goddamn ugly truth, and Evan hated to admit it.

  He’d been played.

  He swallowed down the hurt and betrayal racing through his system and focused on the ask—spy on Duke and report back to Walsh. “You want me to spy on him? Fine. I’ll spy on him. What exactly am I looking for?”

  “We both know why he’s been paying out large sums. It has nothing to do with what TREX is investigating. That can stay between us for now. Find something else for the agency to sink its teeth into so they’ll leave that alone, and the truth behind those payments never has to go beyond us.”

  “Understood. Anything else?”

  “Clint Duke didn’t get to be worth billions of dollars by being a nice guy, Evan. Remember that. The man will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

  When I see something I want, I go for it.

  He hated to think Clint targeted him as part of the deal, but the evidence couldn’t be ignored. If the roles were reversed, Evan might have done the same thing. After all, it was just business. God, how he hat
ed that justification, like that somehow made it okay to shred a person’s soul.

  His thoughts rested on the contract. Clearly, Clint was a savvy businessman, both in the boardroom and the bedroom. Too bad Evan would never experience the latter.

  Or would he?

  This was all hearsay. Walsh had a gut feeling, nothing more. Evan couldn’t run on a gut feeling. He needed hard facts. He needed to be sure before the doubt burrowed into his subconscious and made a permanent home in his brain.

  Rising to his feet as graceful as possible, he buttoned his suit jacket and regarded the RD. “It doesn’t take rigorous training to pick up on when you’ve been played. It takes common sense.”

  “Evan.”

  “I’m late.” He rushed out—out of the invasion of privacy, the room, the Farm—and over to his car, pulled out and ignored the speed limit as he made his way toward Kelley’s. If any of this were true, then Clint may have won this round.

  But the war was just beginning.

  13

  “I hate that he’s so hot.” Patsy leaned her elbow on the glass counter and rested her chin in her hand.

  Evan stole a quick glance at Clint flirting shamelessly with Candy at the perfume counter. Again. “You and me both.”

  “Why would you hate it? You bat for the same team.”

  “I don’t even think we’re playing the same game.”

  Patsy rolled her eyes. “You are such a drama queen. Yesterday you were all like ‘he’s so dreamy’. Today you’re all like ‘he’s got cooties’.”

  “Dreamy? Cooties? Hey, Pats? The 50s called. They’d like their words back.”

  “I’ve got two more for you that are pretty universal.” She smiled sweetly.

  “You are such a lady.”

  “Likewise.” She straightened and brushed out her suede skirt. “What could have possibly happened between yesterday and today to make you go from loving to hating him overnight?”

  More than he ever thought would happen. Evan went from excited over the idea of a new relationship, to apprehensive curiosity over the idea of a Dom/sub relationship, to wondering if it was a business deal and not a relationship at all.