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After a few minutes of staring at Dylan, who hadn’t looked his way since he entered the conference room, Tristan cleared his throat, stopping the flow of the presentation. “Can you all give me a few minutes alone with Mr. Reeves?”

He could feel every eye turned his way. Dylan was slower to respond. He’d been reading from the contract and lifted his head, business clearly on his mind. But the minute their gazes met, Tristan got why Dylan had avoided eye contact. His gaze held a mixture of both heat and need. Sparks flew between the two of them and Tristan smiled.

“You heard him,” Landry said and began shooing everyone out. As the last person left, Landry came to the center of the table, standing between the two of them. He clearly thought Tristan’s request hadn’t included him.

“Landry, I need a private discussion with Mr. Reeves,” Tristan said, rising from his seat at the end of the table. Landry came immediately to him, standing in front of him, blocking Dylan from seeing or hearing anything he said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Landry whispered so quietly Tristan barely heard him. “We almost have them, I can see it.”

Tristan cut his eyes over to Landry’s and motioned with his head for him to move along out the door with everyone else. Landry’s brow furrowed and he started to shake his head. Tristan stared at him with intense attitude until he finally left the room. Tristan had no doubt he’d stand right outside that door. There wasn’t too much of Wilder, Inc. that Landry wasn’t included in, and he certainly wouldn’t like being put out of a meeting he’d orchestrated. Tristan moved to a chair directly beside Dylan who hadn’t uttered a single word since his request for privacy.

“You look nice today,” Tristan said quietly, smiling as Dylan’s cheeks grew red.

“Is that why you made everyone leave?”

“No, of course not. I could have just told you later, but that whole look’s perfect on you. The hair’s hot. Pinstripes fit your frame remarkably well. You look taller, more intimidating. Great look for negotiations or the cover of GQ. You could do both.” Tristan scooted closer. “Did you get my flowers?” he asked even quieter.

“I did. Thank you, but that was a risky move,” Dylan said, clearly ignoring the compliment.

“I wrote and sealed the card myself. What did you do with the flowers?” Tristan leaned forward, then moved in a little more, smelling Dylan’s cologne. That had Dylan pushing back in his chair.

“I gave them to the concierge that helped me this morning,” Dylan answered and then backtracked. “I didn’t think I’d be in my room very much and didn’t want them to go to waste.”

“I figured you’d do something like that. It’s why I picked those colors. So that means you’re coming with me tonight?” Tristan asked, his eyes still focused directly on Dylan’s.

“We’ll see how things go today. I’m not sure about all this. You lowballed me and I was just reading about the staffing…” Dylan started, but Tristan lifted a hand to Dylan’s lips to stop his words. He let his fingers linger as he spoke.

“I don’t want to talk business yet. I honestly was only informed of the changes to personnel when I walked in today. From this point forward, you and I will decide how this sale goes, no one else, but before we do, I want to put personal before business because they are two separate entities between us. Will you please go with me tonight? I need to cancel some things if you’re not coming,” Tristan added at Dylan’s skeptical look.  

 

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