Page 15 of Seductive Scoundrel

Dean: I’ll be as fast as I can, beautiful. Don’t fall asleep on me.

Mia: Don’t disappoint me.

And for the first time in my life, I actually give a shit about not letting her down. Clearly, I’m losing my goddamn mind. But it’s nothing that expelling some semen inside her – and all over her – won’t cure.

* * *

A town carpulls up outside The Chapel at the same time as my Bentley, and I know without a doubt it’s Dex. Something tells me that he wouldn’t have driven himself here either, and when a dude who matches his photos emerges from the backseat, it’s confirmed.

I meet him on the sidewalk, and his clear blue eyes assess me while he shakes my hand in a vice grip.

“Dean.” It’s not a question, so I must look the same as I did when they took my driver’s license picture. No other photographs of me are available in the public domain.

“Dex.”

He tilts his head to indicate that I should follow him inside the restaurant where he’s welcomed like family. The maître-d’ seems disappointed that Bianca and Dex’s kids – Georgina and George, so clearly there’s some kind of theme going on – aren’t with him, but he quickly recovers and greets me with a smile.

We’re escorted to a private booth in the back where no one can overhear our conversation. The lighting is low and the windows are stained glass, setting a strange but unique dining ambiance.

I rotate my restaurant selection, and it’s been over a year since I’ve been here. I forgot how good the service is, and if the smell making my mouth water is any indication, the food is just as incredible as I remember.

We both order steaks – medium-rare, so I don’t have to question his masculinity – and top-shelf whiskey while I wonder what Dex’s agenda is. Surely he doesn’t want us to become bosom buddies, but clearly, he wants to know…something. Maybe find the secrets in my closet?

Unfortunately for him, all of them are dead and buried – deep.

He grills me on my time at Harvard and MIT as though he wants to confirm that I was really there, his scrutiny unwavering the entire time.

“That’s when I created the QuickChat app and sold it,” I remind him.

“Prematurely,” he points out with an eyebrow raised.

I shrug and take the hit to the chin. “I was 21. What can I say? A $25 million payout sounded too good to be true when you grew up barely middle class. Looking back, I should have waited, but Harvard forgot to include the crystal ball with my diploma.”

I look at him just as hard as he’s looking at me. “And I’ve learned my lesson from that hard-won experience. Your dad is paying me a fuck of a lot more for Seneca.”

“Too much.”

I run my tongue over my teeth while I debate how to play it. He’s not wrong, and neither of us are stupid enough to believe Seneca is worth the astronomical sum that his dad offered me. “Perhaps. But it’s a solid company that will provide returns long-term.”

We shift into the personal over dinner, where Dex shares that he had typical rich kid hobbies – fencing and sailing – whereas I played contact sports that earned me a scholarship to supplement the ones my dad got through work.

He isn’t shy about sharing the complicated relationship he has with his father, probably because it’s all public knowledge thanks to his wife revealing it in a tell-all article. He went from elusive playboy to domesticated house pet, and I can’t understand why.

“Did you know my dad before he reached out to you? A conference, maybe?”

I shake my head. “Can’t say that we’ve ever crossed paths. I knewofhim, but never personally met him. Then he called me out of the blue.”

“So you don’t have any clue why he made you an offer?” Dex looks like he’s about to laugh and my guard is lowering, too. We’re already four whiskeys deep.

“Fuck no,” I reply with a grin. “And neither do you.”

He chuckles, some of the tension leaving our table as the interrogation mode lifts. “That’s correct. I mean, absorbing technology companies aligns with our five-year plan, but I have no idea why he sought you out. And when I ask him, he just tells me it’s a good buy. So I’m guessing someone at The Breakers told him about you.”

I shrug. “I’m well-known in certain circles. But I stay out of the public eye, and that won’t ever change. No one needs to know anything about my personal or financial business except for me and my small – very small – inner circle.”

“Noted.”

“Maybe your dad wants to resume his involvement in the business?” His dad retired, moved to Palm Beach, and left the business in his hands.

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