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Authors: EM Lynley

BOOK: Dirty Dining
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He spent most of the next three days in his office in the Life Sciences Building. He shared it with another grad student who was away working on a joint project with a team at Johns Hopkins. It was nice to have the cramped space to himself for a while.

Plus, the work was a welcome distraction from having to wait until Wednesday to see Brice again. They had texted and talked a few times a day since Sunday. Their next date would be at a restaurant Jeremy liked in San Francisco’s Mission District.

“I can get over to Berkeley. You don’t have to keep coming into the city,” Brice had said when Jeremy suggested the spot.

“Nope. I love this place. It closed about two years ago, and there was such an uproar from customers, they found another location and opened up again.”

“Okay, I can’t say no to something that good.”

“If you don’t like it, it will be our last date.”

“I love it already.”

“See you Wednesday.”

Chapter TWENTY-TWO

 

 

Q
UARTER
-
END
MEETINGS
kept Brice busy all day every day. It was time for his firm to assess the financial results or progress of the companies they funded, the portfolio companies. Any company failing to meet expectations might lose their funding. It was up to the partners to make sure their investors made profits, and this was the only way.

By Wednesday afternoon, Brice’s head was swimming with facts and figures. He’d had to draw up two termination contracts by 3:00 p.m., and if he could get out a little bit early, he’d have time for a workout and a shower before he met Jeremy for dinner. He’d ducked out of the last meeting because he wasn’t needed.

Ron knocked on his door around four and shut the door behind himself as if he were hiding. Then he plopped down into a chair.

“I take it you’re avoiding someone?”

“Just trying to recover from that last one. Company’s working on a cure for some digestive issue I don’t want to think about if I can help it.”

Brice chuckled and started tidying up his desk.

“So when are you going to tell me about this new guy of yours?” Ron sat down in one of the chairs in front of Brice’s desk.

“Who says there’s a new guy?” Brice slipped into his jacket, figuring Ron would get the message he didn’t want to chat just then.

“Because you’ve had a huge smile on your face most for the past two months, except for the past week. But I guess you sorted the problem out.”

It was scary how well Ron knew him. Or how poorly he disguised his emotions. He’d better be more circumspect in the future.

“I’ll tell you when there’s something to tell.”

“Fine.” Ron’s cell phone rang, and he picked up. “They’re here? … Sure, Brice is here … Yeah.”

“Brice isn’t here. You’re simply experiencing a memory on your retinas.” He put a few folders in his messenger bag, though he probably wouldn’t have time to look at them that evening.

“Hey there, fella. Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’ve had one day off the past week. I even worked Sunday when I had more enjoyable options.”

“Give me an hour, Brice. I rescheduled this meeting so I could have you there. I need you as a tiebreaker. The partners have been arguing over it for the past year, and I need you to back me up.”

“Fine. Give me a minute, and I’ll join you in the board room.”

“Don’t even think about making a run for it. I’ve got security on speed dial. They won’t let you out the front door.” Ron grinned and headed for the door.

“Hey, which company is it?”

“It’s Pharma—” Ron was too far down the hall to hear the rest.

“Pharma what?” Brice frowned.

Half the companies they dealt with seemed to be called Pharm-something, and the other half had “Gen” in their name. He glanced at the firm’s online calendar: Pharm-Gen. This one used both. How creative. The value of firms that helped companies choose unique and relevant names finally sunk in.

He saw that meeting for Pharma
Tek
was the next morning, and he’d made a note to sit on that one whether he was needed or not. They were working on an HIV vaccine, and Brice was curious about their progress. He knew Jeremy’s research was in immunology, but due to confidentiality issues on both their parts, they’d avoided details of their work.

He couldn’t recall anything about Pharm-Gen, so he waited fifteen minutes before heading to the meeting, using the time to skim their binder, and avoiding the initial chitchat. When he arrived, one of the company’s officers was pointing to data on a PowerPoint presentation. Ron started to hand him a binder containing reports and financials, but Brice held up his own. He took a seat near the far end of the table and flipped directly to the balance sheet and earnings reports, tuning out the speaker.

He glanced over the information, keeping in mind what he’d been told by Ron and Lane at previous similar meetings.

The numbers weren’t good and hadn’t improved at all over the past six months. The balance sheet didn’t look right, but he wasn’t sure why. It seemed an easy decision to drop them from the portfolio. Their expenses kept increasing, far beyond initial projections because they had entered into badly structured licensing agreements where they had to pay before they generated an income stream. They would never get back on budget, which meant the firm and their investors would never achieve the expected return on their capital. Brice wasn’t a finance guy, but even he knew that much.

“Thank you, Bob. I appreciate you coming in today and being so prepared.” Ron flapped his binder. “Does anyone have questions for Dr. Bartlet?”

A few people asked questions about research details Brice couldn’t begin to understand. He couldn’t help glancing at his watch and wondering whether he’d get to the restaurant on time. Images of dinner and the upcoming weekend with Jeremy flashed through his brain.

“Brice, did you have anything to add? Questions, comments, whatever, for Dr. Bartlet or the CFO, Trevor?”

“No. I’m good with what’s in the report here.”

“Thanks, Bob. We’ll discuss the situation and get back to you with our decision. We’ve got a lot to think about this quarter.” Ron stood and saw the two men to the door before returning to his seat.

“What’s the verdict, gentlemen?” Ron glanced around the table to the three other senior partners and Brice. “Do we need a discussion?”

“You know my stand on this,” Parker said.

“Mine too,” Christie added, giving Parker a sideways glance.

Clearly they disagreed, but Brice hadn’t been able to figure out who was for and who against. He should have paid more attention to the discussion and their reactions to the presentation.

“So I can see we don’t have a clear majority one way or the other here. We’ll have to vote.”

Brice knew his opinion wasn’t needed unless there was a tie or someone brought up a contract issue.

The vote was split.

“Brice, how do you weigh in here? You’ve got the tiebreaker after all.” Ron looked expectantly at Brice. Ron had voted to continue funding, and he’d asked Brice to sit in because he thought Brice would back him up.

“My vote will determine the final decision?” He felt very uncomfortable. He didn’t want to cut Ron down in front of the other partners.

“No, Brice.” Parker shook his head. “But the senior partners will take these discussions into account when we have our own discussion on Friday.”

Brice nodded, knowing the pressure wasn’t on him. “Well, I hate to say, but these numbers don’t work for me. It seems black and white. I’m not sure why there’s even a question. Sorry, Ron, I can’t support continuing the funding.”

“It’s more than figures here, Brice,” Parker said. “You must see that. It’s the reason these companies need us in the first place. The market would never fund this kind of expense. Sometimes we have to give more leeway to certain companies. I’m surprised you aren’t more supportive of this research.”

“You asked for my opinion.”

“Well, glad to see someone’s looking out for the bottom line after all, rather than making the decision personal.” Christie nodded to Brice. As a founding partner, he wielded the most power, and for the first time, he seemed pleased with something Brice had done.

Ron, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to grab a pitchfork. “So we’re going with the easy solution here, despite our commitment and personal connection to this company for years?” No one spoke. “I accept the vote, since I asked Brice to participate.”

People started filing out of the room. Ron grabbed Brice’s elbow. “Brice, I’ll need you to go over the contract terms and draw up a separation agreement. Tonight.”

“Tonight’s not good. They’re not meeting until Friday, so why the hurry?” Brice wanted to get out of the room. With its glass walls, people walking past could see his disagreement with Ron.

“Tonight, Brice.” Ron spoke through pursed lips. “I’d like to see it before you leave. I’ll be in my office.”

It took Brice longer than expected to read the original contract, since he hadn’t written it. Once he understood the terms, he drafted paperwork severing ties with Pharm-Gen and citing specific contractual terms regarding the timetable and ownership of the few patents the company had developed. By six, he knew he wouldn’t be able to meet Jeremy on time. He tried calling, but there was no answer, so he sent a quick text and went back to work.

Twenty minutes later, Jeremy phoned. “Hey, I got your text. I’m already at the restaurant. Should I head home?”

“No. I’ll be forty minutes more, I think. Do you mind waiting?”

“No. The bartender’s really hot, and he’s been giving me the look.”

“Twenty minutes. I’m leaving now. Already out the door…”

“Jealous much?”

“Not until now. Seriously, though, it’s going to be nearly an hour. I don’t want to make you wait.”

“Stop talking and finish your work. See you later.”

Brice couldn’t help smiling as he put the phone down. He finished up the contract and went to Ron’s desk to hand it to him personally. He needed to smooth things over with Ron. When he got there, the lights were off. Ron had already gone home.

It took willpower not to call Ron every name in the book for making him late with Jeremy. If he wanted this contract, he could come and ask for it. Brice went back to his office, locked the contract in his desk, then grabbed his jacket and headed for the Mission.

Chapter TWENTY-THREE

 

 

J
EREMY
WAS
sipping a glass of beer at a table on the sidewalk outside Ti Couz 2 on Valencia when Brice arrived. He looked exhausted, tie loose and a little crooked but very sexy. Suddenly Jeremy didn’t care about dinner.

“Sorry I’m late.” Brice leaned down over the decorative metal railing to give him a kiss. “Mmm. You taste good. Order me a bottle of the same thing. I’ll be right in.” He put his case down on an empty chair and came around through the main entrance. Before he sat down, he treated Jeremy to another kiss.

Jeremy could really get used to this.

“You’re pretty bold, taking a sidewalk table. I thought you were worried someone from the club would see us together.” Brice reached for Jeremy’s hand, clearly not caring who saw them.

Jeremy shrugged. “It feels like we’re doing something wrong. Illicit. A little danger adds to the fun.”

The waiter chose that moment to arrive. He handed out menus and took Brice’s beer order, then left.

“So you like taking risks?”

“Not usually. Until lately I played it pretty safe. My roommate couldn’t believe I took the job at the Dinner Club. I couldn’t believe it either, at first.” Jeremy looked away for a moment as he recalled that first night, not knowing what to expect or how to act. Never expecting he’d meet anyone like Brice.

“Doug?”

“You remembered?”

“I remember everything you tell me.”

“Should I give you a quiz?”

“Not till I finish this beer.” The waiter arrived to place it in front of Brice, and he took a long draw. “Really good. What kind it is?”

“Something French. I can’t remember.”

They discussed the menu, deciding together what to order so they could share. It was easy, comfortable, with Brice. They had similar enough taste in food and the desire to trust the other with something new.

Later, at Brice’s, Jeremy confessed his fantasy about Brice in the office. Brice straightened his tie and sat in the desk chair. Jeremy stripped in the hallway, grabbed a legal pad he found in the living room, and knocked on the office door.

“Come in.”

He strode in carrying the legal pad. “I’m Jeremy, your new paralegal.” He loved the look of surprise on Brice’s face. “You have a project you require some… assistance with?”

“Uh, right. Come in and we can discuss the details.” Brice had trouble keeping a straight face.

“They told me this project would be very, very hard. And that’s why you needed some ass-istance.” He whispered the last word, trying to make it sound dirty, but now he felt like laughing.

“That’s right. You should come closer and take a look at the briefs.”

Now Jeremy did start laughing. They sounded like bad porn. God, this was fun, especially now Brice was getting into the game. Jeremy went behind the desk and stood between Brice’s legs, letting Brice look him over.

“Yes, I see you have excellent qualifications.” He took hold of Jeremy’s cock and stroked him a few times, transforming a half erection to a full-blown hard-on. “Now come sit over here.” He pulled Jeremy into his lap, and Jeremy shifted so he was facing Brice, straddling him, cock pressing against Brice’s pretty silk necktie. It felt good. He liked the way Brice’s clothes felt against the sensitive skin of his upper thighs. He’d been on Brice’s lap plenty of times before, but tonight was even more fun.

“I’m not sure the project is hard enough just yet. Any suggestions?”

“I do have an extensive skillset for just this situation,” Jeremy replied. He slid down off Brice’s lap and knelt in front of him, then opened his belt and trousers. He brushed his lips across the bulge and heard Brice’s gasp. It turned into a moan when Jeremy took Brice into his mouth.

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