The call from Chris O’Connor comes only moments after Vivienne steps into the elevator, and for a split second, I think it’s her, calling to murmur something dirty into my ear before she goes back to Overhiser’s office for the rest of the day. My heart sinks when I see the number on the caller ID.

“What happened?”

Chris wouldn’t be calling me direct for nothing.

“Hey, Dominic.”

“Start talking, Chris.” I’d forgotten about the FBI business during that lunch break, and I’d been planning to sit in front of the fireplace for a good fifteen minutes with a glass of something dark and alcoholic and lose myself in the memory of Vivienne’s lips wrapped around my cock, her hot wet mouth working me until I came…and more than that, the fiery determination in her eyes that we be on the same level, that I get at least what I gave…pleasure.

It makes my heart ache.

She was practically glowing at lunch, beaming, and I felt the same way, like I’d finally found someone who’s an equal despite our vastly different job titles and net worth, someone who’s concerned about fairness, of all things, and isn’t here to leech off of me.

Or, maybe I’m being a fool and she is someone I can’t see through. Maybe she is playing some kind of game to get rich from dating a billionaire, but I don’t think so. She might have other secrets that can only be revealed with time, but Vivienne Davis isn’t a gold digger.

So it’s not Chris O’Connor I want to be talking to right now.

“Testy, testy,” he says, sounding a little hurt.

“I’ve got a busy schedule. Do you have news for me?” He could be calling to tell me the investigation is off, in which case I’ve been a total asshole to him for nothing. The beat’s worth of silence tells me everything I need to know. “Where do you want to meet?”

“Same bar as last time?”

No. Too risky. I don’t want this to become a habit—for Chris’s sake and mine.

“Where are you?”

“A block away from HQ.” He names a street and cross street.

“One of my drivers will pick you up in five minutes. I know where we can go.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re seated in a private room of a club with such a high membership price tag that most of New York—even its elite—doesn’t know about it. I rarely put it to use—I’ve spent most of the last few years in my office, so there’s been no need for confidential meetings in a place like this—but in a pinch, it’s nice to have a secure location that isn’t a dive bar.

Chris shifts in his seat. The room we’re in features a picture window that doesn’t offer much of a view, but at least it lets in streams of daylight. A waitress in a form-fitting uniform has swept in with a tray, setting out various appetizers—delicately crafted sushi rolls and other small bites that I want despite having finished lunch very recently—and backs out again without a word once she’s set two tumblers of whiskey in front of us.

He takes a deep breath, then picks up the glass and sips at it. “I thought you meant another bar.”

“Are you going to complain, old friend?”

One corner of his mouth rises into a smile. “No, but this kind of place—”

“Is the kind of place you should get to know, if you’re going to keep giving me confidential information I shouldn’t have.”

“Fair point.” He draws one of the appetizer plates toward him and chooses from the serving plates in the center of the table. “I wanted to stay in contact.”

I pick up a slim section of sushi and pop it into my mouth. The flavor explodes onto my tongue, the fish so fresh it was probably swimming around moments ago. “Do you not have any new developments?”

He flicks his eyes upward, then back down at the food. “The department isn’t very interested in you anymore.”

“Good. I’m not selling tech secrets to the Chinese government, so that makes a great deal of sense.”

“Unfortunately, our undercover agent isn’t making much headway. It might—it might take a little longer than I thought, and I wanted to keep you in the loop. Even though I shouldn’t.” He gives me a pointed look, like he needs to remind me that he’s doing me a favor.

“And, what, you missed our little chats from college days?” This is all information he could have given me over the phone—not nearly the caliber of what he told me in a bar not too long ago. “Jesus, Chris. I thought this was a real update.”

“It is, in that we’re moving on from you as a prime suspect. You should be relieved. Selling information like this when you have government contracts is a huge deal.”

I sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve had some different things on my mind lately.”

Chris’s eyes light up. “Damn it, Wilder, did you meet a woman and not tell me?”

I narrow my eyes, appraising him from across the table. I shouldn’t be telling anyone about Vivienne, but how far could it possibly go? It’s Chris, for God’s sake, and we’re within the walls of one of the safest rooms in the city. “You could say that.”

“Is that why you’re suddenly irritated to find out more information about the FBI investigation that’s happening right under your nose?”

“Hell yes,” I tell him with a stupid grin. “I was thinking about her when you called. You interrupted me.”

“She must be pretty special if she can take your mind off an FBI investigation. You were pissed as hell when I first told you.”

“She is. She—” I can’t find words that do Vivienne justice. “I only met her a few weeks ago, but man—”

“Who is this woman?”

I raise a finger into the air, chastising him. “No details.”

He scoffs. “Oh, come on. Like I’m going to know her.”

For an instant, I debate telling him Vivienne’s name, that she started at my company a few weeks ago, that I want her badly, that right now the only place I want to be is in her arms.

I shake my head. “Not until we’ve…figured things out.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” Understanding settles over Chris’s face.

“It’s like that.”

I take another bite of sushi. My heart is warm at the thought of Vivienne, but I’m not filled with rage. I’m not anxious to get back to the Wilder Building and stalk the halls until I find whoever it is that’s stealing from me. Instead, I feel…calm. I feel willing to let the FBI do its job, to let my friend on the inside keep me updated.

The realization is like a shock of cold water. For the first time in years, there’s something more important to me than Wilder Enterprises.

And it’s Vivienne Davis.

“So—is that all the news?” I’m ravenous again, suddenly, wholly, and I lean forward and start loading an appetizer plate with some of everything.

“Yeah…” Chris looks at me with wide eyes. “You okay, man?”

“More than okay. Let’s drink.”