Secrets With the Billionaire

by Noelle Keaton

  Out of the corner of his eye, Tim could see Matt giving him an are you insane look, but Tim ignored him and focused on Shelby. She looked relieved, as if she’d been expecting a more violent or hysterical reaction.

  “I’m glad you’re able to see things from my point of view. While I share in you disappointment, I look forward to reading your next article. You are a great reporter, Tim, and I’m glad you’re part of the Chronicle family.”

  Tim reached across the table and shook Shelby’s extended hand while silently calling her every curse word that came to mind. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. He would meet with Connor that evening. Together, the two of them would get this mess straightened out and see that the Chronicle published his story.

  ****

  Though located in one of Philadelphia’s most exclusive high rises, gaining access to Connor’s penthouse proved to be a lot easier than his hotel room in Cedros. Tim walked into the lobby and approached the concierge, expecting to have to go through a similar security check process.

  But before he could even give his name, the concierge said, “Good evening, Mr. McInerny. Mr. Albright is expecting you and told us to send you right up.” The concierge tapped on his keyboard, and a nearby elevator door opened. He came from around the desk to escort Tim to it. “Have a good evening, sir,” he said with a small smile.

  I hope it will be, Tim thought, as the elevator started to move without him pushing a floor button. Within seconds, it opened, and he found himself walking directly into the marble foyer of Connor’s penthouse. He tried not to gape as he walked into a sleekly furnished living space that looked like something out of Architectural Digest.

  Tim heard Connor’s voice before actually seeing him. “That’s not acceptable. Either Holman and the rest of the Scrap Vook execs meet us by the end of the week to straighten this out, or we don’t proceed at all.”

  Dressed in a navy suit with a red power tie, Connor seemed to be gearing up for another round of business negotiations instead of getting ready for a date. Tim considered sneaking back out when Connor looked toward the entrance and saw him. Pointing at his earphone, he made a five more minutes gesture and then disappeared into another wing of the penthouse.

  You should leave, Tim told himself. However, the lure of the balcony, with its showcase of a nighttime Philadelphia skyline, proved too hard to resist. The twinkling lights from the buildings and signs below captured the essence of a city used to hectic days and even busier nights. The stars above created an electric, energetic effect that made Tim want to go out and capture some of the stories of the town’s unique denizens. Maybe he could come up with a comparable article that would make up for the one he lost with Connor.

  Fat chance of that. He still held out hope that maybe all wasn’t lost. Yet, it didn’t escape Tim that he couldn’t even compel Connor to wrap up a phone call. There was little chance he’d have enough influence to get Connor to persuade Shelby to change her mind.

  “Sorry about that, it couldn’t be helped.” Connor walked out onto the balcony with a weary smile. “Hey, why didn’t you fix yourself a drink?”

  “I’ll get one in a minute. I want to enjoy this view some more first.”

  Connor stood next to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He nuzzled his lips against Tim’s neck. “I thought about you all day. I’m so glad you’re finally here.”

  “Me too.” Tim surrendered to his emotions and adjusted his head so their lips touched. He opened his mouth a little in response to the gentle pressure from Connor’s tongue. He moaned the moment it slipped in, and his knees weakened while his dick hardened.

  Connor had an erection too, and he rubbed it against Tim’s. The pleasure from the double friction of his hard-on chafing against his clothes and Connor’s gyrations almost made Tim come right there on the balcony.

  As if sensing the urgency of his need, Connor hooked a finger in the waistband of Tim’s pants and tugged him back inside. “Come on, let’s go to bed and do this the right way.”

  Tim wanted nothing more than to follow Connor and spend the rest of the night in a blissful, lovemaking haze. But for once his brain overruled his cock, and his feet remained planted on the spot. “Wait, we need to talk.”

  “Later,” Connor muttered while sliding his hand in between Tim’s legs and cupping his balls. “We need to take care of this first.”

  Though breathing heavily from excitement and anticipation, Tim forced himself to take several steps out of Connor’s reach. “They’re not going to publish the article.”

  “What?” While Connor’s voice sounded shocked, the light from inside the penthouse allowed Tim to witness the glimpse of guilt that crossed his face before a composed mask replaced it. “That’s terrible. Did you publisher tell you why?”

  Tim continued to watch Connor carefully. “She gave me a song and dance about how the interview was no longer compatible with the paper’s long-range goals.”

  “That’s too bad. I’m sure that was very frustrating to hear. But at least your publisher canceled the article for business reasons and not because of the quality of your work.”

  “Do you know anything about those other business reasons?”

  Connor suddenly seemed to have trouble meeting Tim’s gaze. “Is there any particular reason why I should?”

  “Since those business reasons are related to Albright Software Media suddenly getting into bed with the Chronicle’s parent company, I thought you might know a thing or two, seeing as you’re the fucking founder and CEO.” Tim regretted the harsh tone, knowing it wouldn’t get him anywhere. In a softer voice, he said, “I’m sorry, it’s been a rough day.”

  “I can imagine.” Connor took his hand and squeezed it. “Why don’t we go back in and I’ll fix you that drink? Sounds like you could use it.”

  They went into the penthouse, and Tim watched while Connor made him a vodka tonic. He accepted the drink and took a token sip, but picked back up where they left off on the balcony. “Did you know anything about Albright Software Media’s deal with Pickering Media Group?”

  Connor took a bottle of water and sat on his massive leather sofa. “No specifics, but the head of marketing indicated something along those lines might be happening soon.”

  “And when did they let you know this?” With him standing and Connor sitting, Tim felt a little like a prosecutor cross-examining a witness.

  “I can’t say that I remember.”

  “Before or after your trip to Cedros? Before or after I interviewed you? Before or after they found out you told me about your heart attack and quadruple bypass surgery?”

  Connor scowled, clearly not used to being questioned or challenged like this. “I repeat, I can’t remember. If there’s something you want to know, don’t beat around the bush. Just ask me straight out.”

  Tim took a gulp of his vodka tonic. “Did you know they were going to cancel my article? Did you have anything to do with it?” The way Connor’s head bowed and his gaze dropped to his lap gave Tim his answer. “Damn it, why?” he asked, unable to keep the anguish out of his voice.

  Still not meeting Tim’s eyes, Connor took a deep breath. “There is a major deal about to take place that we’ve been working on for months. Billions are at stake, and so is Albright Software Media’s future. Negotiations are still underway, and an article that focuses on my heart attack and surgery could derail them.”

  “Okay, fair enough. But why kill my article entirely? Why not let it be published after negotiations are completed and this deal of yours goes through?”

  Connor finally looked Tim in the eye again, and his expression was one of sympathy mixed with pity. “It’s already been arranged for The Wall Street Journal to conduct the first interview about my heart attack and surgery. It will run in conjunction with a story about the business deal we’re currently negotiating.”

  Tim gripped the glass of his vodka tonic so tight he thought he would crush it with his bare hand. Instead, he set it on the counte
r and said with the steadiest voice he could manage, “But you’ve already conducted your first interview about your heart attack and surgery. Remember, about five weeks back on Cedros?”

  Connor stood and slowly made his way over to where Tim stood. “I really shouldn’t have granted you that interview. I let the panic of being found on Cedros overrule my instincts. And your practically blackmailing me further compromised my judgment―”

  “It wasn’t blackmail, it was journalism,” Tim snapped. “I wasn’t looking for you on Cedros and was shocked to find you there. But I won’t apologize for seizing an opportunity. Don’t try to revise history by calling this blackmail to soothe your own conscience. You made a deal with me in good faith, and now you’re reneging on it.”

  Connor’s expression turned contemptuous. “Now, who’s the one revising history? Good faith never entered into any of this. You coerced me into doing the interview, then seduced me to ensure I let my guard down and reveal more than I should have.”

  The accusations made Tim dizzy with anger.

  Before he could respond, Connor continued. “Let’s do each other a favor and be totally honest here. I granted you the interview, but deep down, you had to know there was very little likelihood of it ever seeing the light of day. You’re only angry now because you got outmaneuvered. You’ve lost the advantage you had down on Cedros, and there’s nothing you can do to get it back.”

  Tim felt tears spring to his eyes, but he said a silent prayer that they’d remain unshed. He didn’t want to look any weaker than he already did. “You think I slept with you to get a better interview? Sounds like you slept with me to keep me distracted just long enough to yank the carpet right out from under me. Well played. No wonder you’re a self-made billionaire and run one of the top software companies in the world. Now you can add me to the long list of casualties you’ve left in your wake to get to that position.”

  Tim noted with a mixture of sadness and triumph that now Connor looked like the one who had just been sucker-punched. They both stood there for several moments, staring at each other, before Tim realized neither one of them would concede any ground.

  With nothing left to say, he turned and walked into the foyer, hoping Connor would call him back and apologize. Part of him wanted to return to the living room and admit he’d said several things he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. What he and Connor felt for each other went beyond sex, surely—that had to count for something.

  Tim reluctantly pressed the elevator button. He realized they were losing out on the potential of developing a relationship with the bond that had already formed between them. While total opposites, Tim had had hopes that the initial spark between them, not to mention the explosive sexual chemistry, would give them the chance to surmount the obstacles and go the distance. However, that couldn’t and wouldn’t happen now. Tim knew he’d never be able to let go of the fact that Connor allowed the interview to be sabotaged. That was something he’d never be able to forgive or forget.

  Chapter Eight

  The ink from their signatures had barely dried on the contracts before Connor heard the distinctive sound of champagne bottles being popped open. The finalization of Albright Software Media’s acquisition of Scrap Vook definitely warranted a celebration. The last seven weeks of negotiations had been among the toughest and most complex of Connor’s career. At several times it looked as if the deal would collapse. Months of work would have been in vain, along with the sacrificing of his relationship with Tim.

  Tim. Connor had been unable to forget about him or put what they shared in the past. Lingering regrets over what happened between them were the main reason why he couldn’t muster the energy to join in the rest of the executives’ excitement over the close of the deal. In a way, Connor was sad to see the negotiations end. At least the endless hours of work kept his mind off his loneliness and wreck of a personal life. He hoped there was something else in the pipeline that could keep him occupied enough to put off thinking about Tim for a while longer.

  Dan approached with a smile and a glass of champagne in his hand. “Can you have a least a little sip? Or is it against the doctor’s orders?”

  “Working as hard I have for the last few weeks has also been against doctor’s orders. I might as well go ahead and break another rule.” Connor accepted the glass and took only the tiniest of sips. “I’m getting better and healthier all the time. When I went for a checkup last week, the cardiologist gave the go ahead for me to start a modified workout program.”

  “That’s great news!” Dan clapped him on the shoulder. “I know how much you’ve missed your morning jogs and sparring with your boxing trainer at the gym.”

  “Unfortunately, I still can’t do either one of those yet. Light stretching and brief walks are all the doctor’s allowing so far. He probably wouldn’t have even authorized that if he’d known how many hours I’d been working lately.”

  Dan’s face grew serious. “I hadn’t wanted to bring it up, but I think you have been pushing yourself too hard lately. I hope now that the acquisition is finalized, you’ll lighten up a bit.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. I’ve known you too long. You are far from fine.” Dan pulled Connor over into a corner of the boardroom, away from the rest of the crowd. “You haven’t been yourself since we nixed that interview with The Philadelphia Chronicle. You’ve been acting like a bug’s up your ass ever since then.”

  “The only bug up my ass was completing this deal. And now that it’s done, it’s time to move on to the next one. Did I hear you talking with the head of IT about a Silicon Valley start-up that might be worth looking into?”

  Dan shook his head. “Don’t change the subject. Why did you get so upset about canceling the publication of that interview? I know there’s something else to it that you won’t talk about.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Connor said in a terse tone, hoping Dan would take the hint and drop the subject.

  No such luck. “I won’t force you to share anything you’d rather keep quiet. But didn’t you say the doctor told you to ease up on the stress? You might feel better if you just get whatever’s bothering you off your chest.”

  Connor started to repeat his mantra of everything being fine, but he could tell Dan wouldn’t let up until he got to the bottom of the issue. “Okay, but not here. Let’s go to my office.”

  The two men made their excuses to both their colleagues and the Scrap Vook executives, saying an urgent business matter needed their immediate attention. Fortunately, the impromptu party in the boardroom was well underway, so their absence was hardly noticed.

  Once in his office, Connor settled in behind his desk while Dan fixed himself a drink. Only after he sat in a chair across from Connor did Dan say, “Now, will you tell me what’s been going on all these weeks?”

  Connor played with a bronze paperweight on his desk. “I was a little more personally involved with the interview for the Chronicle than I initially led you to believe.”

  “The interview or the interviewer?”

  “That obvious, huh?” Connor continued to play with the items on his desk, rearranging them one way, then another. “I know it was stupid to get involved with a member of the media, but it all happened so quickly.”

  “From the way you’ve been moping around, I take it the reporter didn’t react well to the cancelation of the publication of the interview.”

  “That’s putting it lightly. He pretty much called me a bully, a liar, and a user.”

  “Harsh.”

  “Well, I called him a blackmailer and practically accused him of sleeping with me just to get more details for his interview.”

  Dan let out a low whistle. “Sounds like you two didn’t pull any punches. Was this the last time you talked to each other?”

  Connor nodded, not wanting to mention the several times he’d walked past the Chronicle offices in an effort to get a glimpse of Tim. He’d even discovered the building
where Tim rented a small studio and had waited in a coffee shop across the street, hoping to run into him. Connor stopped the stakeouts a couple of weeks back when he saw Tim and a handsome man with dark hair enter the building together. The distance had been too great to determine the exact nature of their relationship, but the way the two men smiled at each other had been indication enough.

  Dan swallowed the last of his drink. “Since the interview with The Wall Street Journal is completed and scheduled to run next week, maybe you and the Chronicle reporter can start to mend fences. Tell him that I and the Albright Software Media board forced you to cancel the interview with him and do it with the Journal instead.”

  Connor’s mouth curled into a sad smile. “Tim’s smarter than that. He knows I’m my own person and make my own decisions. It hurt him that I sided with the company’s decision to buy so much Chronicle ad space that we were able to force them to shelve his interview.”

  “It was the right thing to do,” Dan said, a stubborn edge to his voice.

  “Was it?” In Connor’s opinion, Tim’s questions were more insightful and challenging than the ones from the Journal reporter. While the Journal article would probably benefit Albright Software Media more, Connor had a feeling Tim’s article would have been more interesting.

  “Damn right it was! Whatever personal feelings you had for the Chronicle guy, were they worth putting the acquisition of Scrap Vook at risk? If we’d let the Chronicle publish that article when they wanted to weeks ago, the news about your heart attack and surgery would have indefinitely delayed, if not outright killed, the deal.”

  But at least I would still have Tim.

  Dan continued. “Now that it’s finished and shareholders of both companies see the benefits of the acquisition, the news about your health won’t be as much of a focal point.”

  “My health never should have been a focal point,” Connor grumbled. “Bringing Scrap Vook into the fold made a lot of sense and was good business for both companies. That’s true whether I’m healthy as a horse or lying on my death bed.”