Chapter 61: Trade Secrets

Dorian looked up. "The time seems slow today, Adrian."

Adrian had known Dorian Heathcliffe for years. He had seen the man work fourteen-hour days without realizing it was dark outside. He had watched him forget meals, ignore birthdays and spend entire weekends buried in case files because court was approaching.

Never once had he heard Dorian complain that time was moving too slowly.

Adrian stepped into the office and closed the door. "Somewhere to be, sir?"

Dorian leaned back. "Uh... just need to get home." he added, "To rest."

"Uhn uhn... You have nothing else for the rest of the day. You can take off if you want."

"Yes, but then the house just feels so quiet," Dorian answered.

"If you’re going home to rest, isn’t quiet what you need?"

Dorian frowned. "You have a point." he glanced at the folder in Adrian’s hand. "What do you got?"

"I have your wife’s contract done. I sent it to her email already. This is the copy she needs at the moment. She just has to fill in the costs, signatures and so on."

"Hmmm..." Dorian reached for the contract, leaned back in his chair and began going through the pages. He read quickly, eyes moving over the clauses.

"So..." Adrian began. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you, Adrian."

Adrian nodded solemnly. "Right. You’ve got it covered."

Dorian’s eyes lifted from the page. "What’s that?"

"Saturday. You and your..." Adrian paused as though searching for the appropriate professional wording. "Apparently looking forward to something."

"What the—Adrian?"

The confusion was so genuine that Adrian had to work very hard not to laugh. He had been waiting hours for this.

Honestly, it had been worth every minute.

"Or should I rather throw the previous contract in the shredder?" Adrian asked.

"First of all, what do you know and how do you know it? Do you have my phone bugged?"

Adrian smiled. "I cannot give out my trade secrets, sir. It’s what makes me indispensable."

"Adrian!"

Adrian remained infuriatingly calm. He had expected Dorian to react badly. He had simply underestimated how entertaining it would be. "I like your Mrs Number Four," Adrian said instead. "There is no air of pretentiousness."

"What?"

"She’s very open. Refreshingly so. She says exactly what she thinks. and thinks exactly what she says."

Dorian pushed his chair back and got to his feet. "Adrian!" He came around the desk with every intention of looking intimidating.

Usually, it worked. Dorian was tall, controlled. Adrian remained entirely unimpressed. Adrian knew him.

He knew the arrogance was real, the temper was real and the ruthless streak was absolutely real. But he also knew what sat underneath all of it.

Dorian could be intimidating. Adrian simply wasn’t intimidated by him. Beneath all of his stoic demeanour, Dorian was a very fragile man. "What do you know?" Dorian growled.

Adrian looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Enough to know your previous contract is outdated. You’re scheduling sex now?"

"I want to strangle you."

"It would be worth it, sir."

"How do you know?"

"Your wife told me."

"What?" Dorian snapped.

Adrian finally took pity on him. "I headed over to her job. The one she has during the day?"

"I know which job she has."

"She thought I was there for another matter, and she..." Adrian paused, clearly enjoying himself again. "Well, she blurted it out."

Dorian closed his eyes. "Ah, Naomi..."

The woman could keep her entire life a secret, but apparently her sex life did not fall under that umbrella.

"And," Adrian continued, "I didn’t know you could type long messages that had nothing to do with work."

"What?"

"I saw that too. Accidentally."

Dorian went very still. The message he had finally sent after spending far too long staring at her earlier text and trying not to sound like an idiot. "Stop talking."

"You wanted me to talk."

"And now I want you to be quiet." Dorian turned and went back behind his desk, dropping into his chair. "My marital and sexual life are none of your business."

Adrian hummed. "I thought you didn’t want to get attached."

"I’m not."

Adrian hummed again. Dorian narrowed his eyes.

"I am not."

"Of course."

"You don’t believe me."

"I didn’t say that."

Dorian looked away, jaw tightening. There was no attachment. The whole arrangement had an expiration date stamped onto it.

The sex didn’t change that. The fact that he enjoyed coming home more now didn’t change it either.

Neither did the fact that the house felt wrong when she wasn’t there. He looked back at Adrian.

"We are just two people who once had sex and are still drawn to each other for sex."

"Right... of course." Adrian gave him a look that said he believed absolutely none of it. "So, shall I help with the edit you need made?" He changed the subject deliberately.

There was no point pushing Dorian harder when the man had already decided to lie to himself. Adrian had seen what happened the first time Dorian truly fell apart over a woman, and he had no desire to watch a repeat performance. Lillian had nearly destroyed him. Dorian had rebuilt himself afterward, but not without becoming harder, colder and considerably less willing to trust anyone.

And the way things were going with Naomi lately, Adrian had a growing suspicion that if Divorce Number Four actually happened, it might hit Dorian just as hard as the first one had.

Dorian, naturally, appeared determined to remain oblivious. "No!" he snapped. "Don’t you have anything else to do?"

Adrian smiled, turned and left the office before Dorian fired him for knowing too much about his sex life.

Dorian groaned. He was going to strangle Naomi. First, she had sent him that blasted message in the morning and then left him hanging for hours like some kind of sexual terrorist.

It was cruel.

Second, she had apparently chattered away to Adrian about their arrangement. And third, she hadn’t even given him a heads-up afterward.

Dorian opened the drawer beside him and pulled out the revised version of their contract then picked up the Chef Bennett catering contract Adrian had just completed. He placed both documents inside his work bag. He was done for the day.

There were no more meetings on his schedule and absolutely no reason to remain in the office. The moment Naomi walked through the door that evening, he was going to wring her neck.

After asking what she had planned for Saturday.

Possibly before.

He wasn’t sure yet. The order could be decided later. Dorian grabbed his phone, picked up his bag and left the office.

By the time he pulled into the garage beneath the townhouse, he was fully prepared to deliver a speech.

Then he noticed the Range Rover. He usually got home before Naomi. Her schedule was ridiculous, especially on weekdays. Between the bakery and whatever other work she managed to pile onto herself, she rarely beat him back.

He parked beside the Range Rover and shut off the engine. Maybe she had closed early. Or maybe she had come home to work in her office.

That seemed more likely. Ginny’s wedding was getting closer, and Naomi had been obsessing.

Dorian grabbed his bag and headed inside. He stopped on the guest floor first. "Naomi?"