“Don’t make snap judgments. We’ll need them to transition. Actually, you’re forgetting—they don’t need us as much as we need them. Don’t be arrogant. They’ve beat us in this part of the game. Get our team ready, and for heaven’s sake, don’t let our guests be greeted like I was downstairs,” Tristan cautioned again, digging through the piles of paperwork on his desk. He couldn’t have their guests see him struggling to get inside his own building.
“I need a box,” Tristan called out loudly. “Somebody bring me a big file box.” Landry laughed as he left the office. Tristan took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. A few moments later, a box landed on the desk in front of him. With a few shoves, he dumped everything that had accumulated on his desk into the box, looking over to someone’s assistant. Since he refused to have one himself, he regularly shared with his staff.
“Go through all that. Deal with what should be dealt with. Dump the rest,” he directed, handing the guy the heavy box.
“Yes, sir,” he replied.
“Lose the sir. Apparently I have an employee badge somewhere in there. Find it and put it directly into my hands. Nowhere else. Got it?”
“Yes, sir… S-sorry,” the intern stuttered at Tristan’s look of disapproval.
“Does this suit look like I’m trying too hard?” Tristan asked. He quickly rolled his sleeves back down and shrugged on his jacket, puffing out his chest and stretching to his full height.
The guy looked startled and momentarily unsure before he gave a croaked, “No.”
“Are you sure?” he questioned, even knowing the kid wouldn’t tell him the truth.
“Yes,” he reassured, leaving the office. Tristan laughed at the hasty retreat. He needed to spend more time here, not locked up at his house and web-conferencing. The Wilder inner community had suffered with his absence. He needed to be in the office to maintain his vision for how his company and employees were treated. On that dismal thought, he went out to see Landry’s new bride.
“Amy, did Landry have you send gift baskets to all their rooms at the hotel?” Tristan asked, walking past the shared administrative assistant of the senior executive team. She’d been originally hired for him, but he took care of about ninety percent of his own needs, so over the years she started working with them all.
“Yes, sir. Looking good, Tristan,” she said, looking up from her monitor and giving him a wink.
“It feels off,” Tristan said, moving his hands in the air over his clothing.
“Looks professional and hot all at the same time,” she said, laughing at his grimace. He wasn’t the suit and tie kind of guy. He actually hated wearing these things. But these guys were from Dallas—Southern Bible Belt types—and he figured they wore these formal kinds of church-going clothes.
“Don’t say that too loud. Landry will hear you, then I’ll have to fistfight him in his fit of jealousy, making for an even worse Human Resource nightmare than marrying your boss,” Tristan responded loudly. Landry’s doors were open and right beside her desk.
“I do think I might have been harassed…” she said as loudly.
“No. It’s only funny when I joke about it,” Tristan teased. “You can’t after all the legal I had to sit through to make sure all parties were completely covered when you two decided you couldn’t live without each other. I’m here for another reason besides how I look. I need the weekend itinerary for our guests.”
“Sure. I placed a copy on your desk and sent one in email.”
“Good job—very thorough. Can you resend it to my email now?”
“Tristan, you should open email. I assist you and I might have something important to tell you,” Amy lectured, working at her computer as she spoke.
“Tell Landry.” Tristan palmed his phone, pulling up email, waiting for her to resend the original.
“When Landry handles everything, things like the security fiasco downstairs happen,” she whispered never looking up, her fingers clicking on the keyboard.
“I knew it was him. That had Landry Prescott written all over it,” Tristan scoffed, but he didn’t hide the disapproval in his voice.
Amy looked up at him. “It’s your vision, Tristan. No one runs this office like you. We miss you here.”
“I hear you. Even thought the same thing just minutes ago, but not a conversation for right now,” Tristan said, eyeing her closely. He’d hired her for a reason. Even after the sickeningly sweet love she had for Landry, she was still very loyal to him.
“They’re here. Jamison, your favorite security guard down there, just sent them up,” Landry announced, sticking his head past his office door. His brow narrowed as he stared at Amy and Tristan huddled close together. “Are you still trying to get her to sign that release? I married her for Christ’s sake.”
“I’ve decided I can’t live without her, and I’m convincing her I’m the one for her,” Tristan teased while he glanced over the itinerary on his phone. Meet and greet, tour, dinner, drinks. He stared down apathetically at the dates, times, and names. This schedule contained nothing more than schmoozing for three full days. He hated this part the most. The elevator ding saved them all from Landry’s answer. Tristan went directly to the elevator to meet the men himself.
Everything in the Wilder, Inc. office was overly bright and cheerful with a contemporary, pleasingly ergonomic flair. The company clearly spent an incredible amount of money on its environment to bring the employees a stimulating and creative workspace. Dylan himself had looked into changes such as these for his Dallas office but could never fully justify making such sweeping modifications with his already overtaxed budget. Yet, as far as he was concerned, the facility impressed him before they even started the tour. His employees, the ones that relocated, would do well here.
“The concierge service is cool. Even if we don’t do this, I think we should add that service for our staff,” Rob stated. More so than David, Rob agreed with Dylan and always pushed to give back to their staff.
“I can’t see why we wouldn’t take an offer if they give us one this weekend,” David added quickly, right before the elevator doors opened. David was Dylan’s jump-into-the-frying-pan kind of guy. Between the three of them, they covered all the bases. Dylan was most definitely the study-all-the-angles type. He wouldn’t let all his employees down by getting overly excited about a showy exterior. He needed to see the details and inner workings before decisions could be made.
“Shhh,” Dylan whispered. From the articles he’d read in Science Digest, he easily spotted Tristan Wilder. Two things struck him at once. First, the president and CEO of the multi-billion dollar empire, Wilder, Inc., was standing there, apparently ready to greet them, and second, he was much better-looking in person than he had been in the magazine article. And he’d been damn fine in print.
Dylan let David and Rob step out first. He kept his eyes on Wilder as the man greeted his senior management team. He couldn’t help but notice the wide shoulders and broad chest hidden under a well-fitted designer suit. With short-cropped, blond hair and strong facial features, all complemented by a perfectly chiseled jawline, the man had the whole modern day Nordic god thing going on. Dylan found he couldn’t quit staring as the striking man finally turned toward him.
“Hello, welcome to Wilder. I’m Tristan.” He gave a warm smile that drew Dylan’s eyes to his full lips. During his greeting, Tristan took a step back and motioned them from the elevator area. Tristan was about his height, maybe a little taller and had no problem looking him directly in the eyes. His heart skipped a beat under the weight of the man’s stare. His body even reacted enthusiastically to Tristan’s proximity.
Tristan’s hand was warm against his, and as he squeezed, those unusual and intense steel gray eyes never left his. He wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d held that handshake when he noticed the corners of Mr. Wilder’s smile curl into a smirk. His mouth was suddenly dry, his palms grew a bit damp, and he withdrew his hand quickly as a tall, dark-haired man rushed aro
und the corner.
Hopefully the owner of Wilder, Inc. hadn’t noticed his ogling or sweaty palms.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” the well-dressed man said, barreling down on them. “I’m Landry,” he announced and shook all of their hands. Again, Dylan was last. The distraction drew his eyes away from Tristan, and he acknowledged the man he’d talked to the most during the acquisition inquiry phase.
“You’re Dylan Reeves?” he asked after hearing David’s then Rob’s names.
“I am. You’re the COO. It’s good to put a face with a voice and an email address,” Dylan stated. He tried for a casual smile and purposefully avoided glancing in Tristan’s direction.
“It is. We sure are excited about Secret around here,” Landry said as a couple more well-dressed men met them in the foyer near the elevator. Thank god he’d spent the money to dress his guys, otherwise they’d have come to Wilder looking like the Beverly Hillbillies. “We should take this into the conference room.”
Landry guided them through the top floor, introducing them to the rest of the executive staff as they made their way deeper into the offices of Wilder, Inc. Dylan loved the openness and modern feel of the place. Each desk was ergonomically correct and outfitted in a cool futuristic design. Of course, much like his own office, everyone had state of the art computers and monitors.
Dylan stayed toward the back of the group, taking everything in. Landry was at the front, making polite conversation with David and Rob as they threaded their way through the maze of workstations toward the back of the building. Since he’d purposefully kept his eyes off Tristan, he had no idea of the man’s position in the throng of people moving in the direction Landry led.
“Your flight was good?” The husky voice came from behind. He’d thought he’d been bringing up the rear alone. He turned his head to see who’d spoken, only to find the man he avoided directly behind him.
“Absolutely. I haven’t traveled too much on private planes. It was nice. Thank you.” Dylan gave a sincere smile and caught Tristan’s return grin before he turned forward again. He registered the way Tristan’s eyes lit up when he smiled.
“It’s a business perk that didn’t take too long to get used to,” Tristan chuckled. All of a sudden the designs of the building faded as Tristan’s breath tickled the exposed skin above Dylan’s collar. All of Dylan’s attention centered on Tristan and the thrill of him being close.
“No, I wouldn’t imagine it would,” Dylan said. They were trailing now behind the crew, most likely his fault, so he picked up the pace. “I like the design of your building. I always imagined something like this for my staff.”
“It’s costly, but they’re our greatest asset. I wouldn’t be here without them. I need those creative juices flowing,” Tristan replied, placing a hand on Dylan’s back as he started to turn the wrong way. Electricity sizzled through his body, and he stepped away from the touch, barely registering the hand extended in front of him.
“This way,” Tristan said. The genuine smile was still in place when Dylan looked his way.
“I get it better now that I’ve been here. You promoted synergy before it became a buzzword,” Dylan said, forcing himself to focus on business. He remembered one particular article where Tristan was just starting out and had all these ideas about creating a community that worked together. He’d definitely achieved those goals.
“Thank you for knowing that,” Tristan added quietly, patting his shoulder as he stepped around him, walking a few feet ahead of Dylan. The warm puff of breath across his cheek and the light touch when Tristan passed by had goose bumps springing up on his arms. As he watched Tristan in front of him, he realized he’d been so absorbed in thought he’d again missed another turn they’d all made. “The conference room’s in here.”
Tristan caught a door and stopped Dylan before he walked away. He covered his mistake with a laugh. “It’s a distracting place.”
“I’m certainly glad you like it.” Tristan gestured toward the brightly lit room. “We’re meeting in here before we start the tour. It’s the only room, besides our individual offices, that’s truly private. Anytime you need it, it’s yours this weekend,” he said. Dylan walked in to see an over-the-top conference room. Of course, it had the standard table-and-chair setup, but off to the side was a seating area with decorative plush chairs, a sofa, and a full sink and bar at their disposal. If the rest of the place looked like this and Wilder did make an offer, his staff would do well here. That eased him more than anything else. It had been one of his chief concerns in this acquisition.
“Perfect. I’d really like to see the rest of the place,” Dylan added. As one burden eased the other took on a life of its own. He never had these problems. He had to figure out how to shake off his attraction to the company owner. This was business. Important to his life. Too many lives depended on him being on his A game, and yet, he found it hard to concentrate when the CEO was anywhere near him.
He’d been so absorbed in his own thoughts that it took a minute to see David and Rob were both in brisk conversations with the Wilder staff. It amazed him how well everyone seemed to get along. If anything, he was the odd man out, standing on the outside listening as the Wilder top executives were very much like his own. They spoke the same language, used similar analytical skill to come to certain viewpoints on the industry. They were interested in all the same things. If Dylan hadn’t known better, he’d have sworn they’d been friends forever.
He watched a little closer and wondered if this might just be part of the game. He’d never been in negotiations like these. Maybe this was the reel-you-in stage. For some reason that thought helped bring his perspective back. Of course Wilder, Inc. would know how to work them to get what they wanted.
Several minutes into the meet and greet, Tristan clapped his hands at the front of the room, effectively gathering everyone’s attention. “I’m changing our plans. Why don’t we start with a quick tour? We can have a more extensive conversation tomorrow as we iron out the details. What do you say?”
Dylan was grateful for the mental mind-check. He needed things to go back to basics. It wasn’t just the man that overwhelmed him, but the whole experience. He needed to focus. David and Rob had different agendas. Where they wanted employment, he would never be hired by Wilder nor did he even want that as an option. He just wanted his baby, Secret, in the best possible hands to grow into an international success.
He followed the tour, staying somewhere in the middle of the group, and remained out of the conversations. He was all about the inner workings of the company. The setup and attitude he’d seen on the top floor flowed through to every other floor in the place. That impressed him. Even the mailroom had been designed for optimum performance.
The data center, though, rose to a level he’d never seen or experienced before. The size of a large warehouse, the colorful, complex nerve center of the entire company was filled with an intricate maze of proprietary servers all supporting its daily billion users. Although the company was understandably careful who was allowed beyond this point, Tristan had granted them access to walk through.
Dylan was so impressed he stayed right there in that room, talking frankly and openly with some of the engineers. No one stopped him from asking any question or refused to show him anything he wanted to see. The place was truly state of the art, exceptionally made in every way. He wished he could afford even a portion of a complex like this. He left no detail unanalyzed.
Since he’d taken so long in the data center, the fascinating tour ended about three and a half hours after it began. When he stepped out of the oversized room with Tristan leading the way, they were all waiting for him. The instant conversation and camaraderie of earlier was gone. They were quietly standing there. The windows proved dusk had set in, and he realized he’d probably blown their schedule to hell.
“I’m sorry. I never expected to see your nerve center so closely,” Dylan stated.
“We’ve had someone take your b
ags to the hotel. They’ll be in your rooms when you arrive. I pushed the dinner reservations back by thirty minutes. Should I move them back further?” A woman he’d seen on the top floor stood talking to the group of men. Damn, he had blown the schedule with his uncontrolled curiosity.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken so much time…” he tried again.
Tristan, who’d stayed relatively quiet, except to answer some of Dylan’s more technical questions, jumped in to respond. “Dylan, it was an honor to see someone so interested in our setup. I told you we take great pride in that room. No apology needed. Amy, I think that’s a perfect plan. Why don’t we head out now? We should get there right on time.”
“That sounds good to me,” Landry seconded, earning a round of nods from everyone in their party. Dylan went along, following the men outside to the waiting cars. The million or so questions he’d still had were all swallowed. Hopefully another chance would arise to talk more about the inner workings of the center.
The steakhouse was okay, the company pretty good, and the Texans could sure put away the alcohol. If he were assessing the situation at the end of day one, he’d say they were doing a good job at reeling in the final contract. The only concern he had was the company’s owner. Dylan’s defenses weren’t easily penetrated, and he stayed quiet, not offering much insight. Tristan had a feeling there was more to this guy, something he just couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Since they’d all seemed to pair up, Tristan got saddled with the quiet Dylan. It wasn’t a bad thing, not by any means. He was hot as hell to look at with his auburn hair, wide-set, deep blue eyes, and sexy mouth. A mouth with full fleshy lips that Tristan’s eyes kept being drawn to every time the man took a bite of his food. Dylan was also tall and carried himself well. He was smart, funny, and easy to talk to in a one-on-one situation. It seemed as though, at least technically speaking, they were in exactly the same place. When everyone else had become bored out of their minds earlier, Dylan was fully vested into touring his data center, and it was in that moment he knew he liked the guy. The other appealing thing about Dylan was something he prided himself on as well. It didn’t matter if you were the lowest technician in the room, Dylan would spend time getting to know the person and the job they performed. He seemed to understand that no piece of the pie was bigger or smaller than the rest. It took everyone to make things happen.
Secret Page 5