Page 113 of Mr. Hook-up

Brennon leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, extending his legs out in front of him. “You’re boring me to death, and you obviously lied to get me to meet you.” He glanced at me, then Grayson. “Why are you really here?”

I held up my phone, showing him screenshots of the conversation he’d had yesterday when David had reached out to him in my office, inquiring about a position at Faceframe, a way to just get the conversation rolling with Brennon. That simple question had led Brennon to immediately start discussing the Dating Place, and we’d learned that he had much more pull than we anticipated. David then laid it on even thicker, really complaining about Hooked and that he was tired of working there—all lies to get Brennon talking—and Brennon asked him to come in for an interview to join the launch team.

Because it turned out, Brennon was the director of Dating Place management and development and had designed the app himself.

“Drake Madden,” I said. “That’s why we’re here.”

Brennon stared at me, emotionless. “What about her?”

“I know you’re setting Drake up, and I’m going to find the evidence, no matter what it takes.”

Brennon’s unruly brows furrowed. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”

His response could have been taken many ways. I needed clarification.

“Kidding about what? My statement, my—”

“I don’t owe you anything, including a response to your hilarious accusation,” Brennon shot back. “I’ve fulfilled every obligation I had to you a long time ago, even your ridiculous noncompete that expired last year. Fuck you and your assumptions.”

“Yes or no?” I roared. “It’s that easy.”

He got up from his chair and stood in front of us. “You know that the Dating Place is going to own the market share of dating apps. That it’s going to destroy Hooked and whittle you away until there’s nothing left. That you two and your little Holden are going to lose everything David and I built.”

I sat up in my seat, thankful I hadn’t grabbed a coffee, or I’d be throwing it across the fucking room.

“You may have built the infrastructure, but you can’t take a single ounce of credit for anything we’ve accomplished,” Grayson said. “That credit goes to the three of us and Holden.” He nodded at Brennon. “You’re getting a little cocky, even for someone with a head as big as yours.”

“Grayson, you’re fucking pathetic, you know that? You were always jealous that Easton came up with the idea first. Always pissed off that Holden got the better-looking women because he’s the nice guy that you’re not.”

I was on the verge of verbally destroying him when Grayson moved his coffee aside and set his arms on the table. “What scares you the most, Brennon? The fact that we have proof that the Dating Place designs are yours? That even though you met the end of your noncompete, we can and will file suit? Or that your design will never be as successful as ours because, in this day and age, people want anonymity? They want to avoid getting into bed with motherfuckers like you, and the Dating Place can never offer that.”

“You’re going to sue me?” His laugh turned even louder. “I dare you to try.”

“Try?” I laughed back. “That’s what you think we’re going to do? We’ve hired Declan Shaw, the top litigator in the state of California, and the second we leave this café, we’re flying to LA to meet with him. If there’s an attorney in this state who can shred you, it’s him.”

His hands balled into fists at his sides. “On what grounds?”

None of us replied.

We didn’t have to.

Even if his noncompete had expired, he knew damn well he couldn’t use our entire concept, our proprietary software, an infrastructure he’d designed and helped build, and apply it to a competitor in an identical market.

But I wasn’t going to argue that point.

I’d let Declan do that in court.

But I also wasn’t going to leave this table until I had a firm confirmation of Drake’s innocence.

I knew the data hadn’t been stolen or transferred from our system to theirs. Brennon didn’t need to steal anything, nor did he need a mole. He’d created our system; all he did was duplicate it for Faceframe.

“Was Drake affiliated with the Dating Place or not?” I repeated.

The frustration was clear on his face.

So was the nervousness that he was attempting to hide—and doing a shitty job at it.

He shifted his weight. “She had nothing to do with the concept. She wouldn’t even know about it. Her old team and my team—there’s zero crossover.”

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