Absently, he tapped the remote on the wall and listened as the back patio doors slid open. The salty smell of the ocean scented the air. He took the pitcher of mojitos from the refrigerator and poured himself a tall glass, stealing a quick sip before placing the rest back inside. Lime and the faint taste of mint burst across his palate. Perfect. The cocktail had been made for him by his housekeeper, and like always, she nailed the blend of alcohol and mix.
She surprised him regularly with new drink recipes. He never knew what delicacy sat waiting for him each evening in his refrigerator.
Tristan strolled through the quiet house, the cool tile floor comforting against the soles of his feet. He stopped to straighten a Darko Topalski painting on the wall, before stepping into his spacious living room, which had to be his favorite room of the house. The living room was a mishmash of modern and contemporary with a bit of Old World thrown in, simply because the pieces he’d found while traveling Europe suited his taste. The distinct blend of color reached out into the patio and melded into the brilliant orange and dusty pink sky that assuredly announced the approach of evening. Just like with his bedroom, the living room’s back wall slid open, making it impossible to distinguish where the room ended and the patio began.
Dusk was his favorite time of day. No matter where he was or what he planned, he took a few minutes to sit outside and watch as the sun slipped behind the dark horizon, ending the day. Sunset was a symbolic moment to Tristan, a time of momentary pause to ground himself and appreciate the beauty of the world around him. Since Laguna Beach in the early spring was a magical place, he let the hues of the sky take his thoughts from accounting forms and acquisition details that seemed to be the focus of most of his life.
Tristan headed for the lounger. He preferred to kick back and lose himself in the captivating moment. The evening air was a bit chilly for the walking shorts and T-shirt he wore, but Maria, his housekeeper, had draped a hoodie over the back of the chair. Tristan smiled when he saw it. The woman was always a step ahead. An unexpected gust of wind caused a smattering of goose bumps to spring up on his arms and a shiver to run down his spine. He set his glass down long enough to pull the welcomed warmth over his head. As he picked up the drink, he also grabbed the remote control, and turned the stereo on. He chose Sublime’s upbeat “What I Got” as the song for tonight, only because he knew every single word.
“Hey,” Landry Prescott, his chief operating officer, said as he stepped out onto the deck. Maria must have let him in.
“Hey, there’s a fresh batch of mojitos in the refrigerator. Grab a glass. They’re delicious,” Tristan said, lifting his drink. Landry knew the drill. He’d been with Tristan since the beginning. They attended high school together. They’d been buddies. Tristan loved mathematics and was a certified genuine computer geek. Landry was a jock but also one hell of a genius at motivating the troops. While all the other kids in school were focused on dating and the opposite sex, Tristan had hunkered down and developed the first automated web program, linking site after site together on the internet.
It took about two years, with his family leveraging everything they had to invest in Tristan’s ideas to help him build an algorithm and sustainable crawler for the masses. By the time he turned sixteen, he had a staff of eight people, one being Landry, and they worked out of the garage of his parents’ home. Now, twenty years later, he employed tens of thousands of people across the world and had his hand in about everything electronic-related on the market. He’d launched his newest offering at the beginning of the year. A social media site called WilderNation. He’d officially tossed his hat into the social media scene, and for the first time in his life, something he touched hadn’t turned immediately to gold. Actually, performance-wise he hadn’t even earned the bronze. Which now had become the number one priority of his entire senior executive staff.
“God, Maria’s talented.” Landry sighed, taking a seat next to Tristan, with glass in hand.
“Agreed. And something smells awesome coming out of that oven. I’m lucky to have her,” he said, picking up the binoculars. Sometimes he could spot the dolphins in the distance. Those were excellent days.
“Traffic was weirdly light today,” Landry mentioned casually, taking the binoculars that Tristan held out for him.
“Dead center traveling north.” Tristan pointed to the small pod he’d spotted. “Did you read the last reports I sent?”
“Yeah, I was thinking Secret looked pretty good. It’s got more members than we do. The guy worked at Texas Instruments for years before he developed the site. It looks the most stable to me. His concept’s proprietary. No one has it yet but him,” Landry said, his eyes still on the dolphins.
“I like the idea of no paper trail,” Tristan added.
“It’s got some serious criticism,” Landry replied, giving the binoculars back to Tristan.
“They’ve handled that well and they’re right. Bad people will use anything for their gain. I’m coming to see the benefits of that mobile app. I like messages disappearing. It alleviates all sorts of issues. I think the consumer would devour it if we can just get it in enough hands,” Tristan mused aloud, before taking a long drink.
“Marketing has some rough ideas about a global initiative and legal has the paperwork ready,” Landry said, already draining his glass.
“The owner’s coming this week, correct?” Tristan asked.
“Yep, Thursday and Friday. Maybe Friday, Saturday. I can’t remember. He’s bringing his senior team along.”
“I wanna sit in on all those meetings. We need to push this along. I don’t want to string this thing out a year,” Tristan stated.