Wicked Torture (Stark World 3)

"Thanks," Carina said, taking the drink with a smile that lit up her elfin face.

He'd hired Carina one week after he'd come to Austin with the purpose of turning this floundering tech company into a top competitor in the field of corporate security technology. He'd asked Human Resources to send him a floater to help him get organized, and Carin

a had swooped in like a combination guardian angel and pit bull, tirelessly organizing him even while ferociously guarding his time by keeping away anyone he didn't truly need to see. After two days, he'd called HR back and told them that she was on his desk permanently.

The coffee ritual started because they were both trying to cut down. The deal was that whenever either of them bought coffee or made a cup in the break room, they had to bring the other one as well. On the whole it was working remarkably well--not only was he paying more attention to how much coffee he drank, but he'd also scored a damn good assistant.

"And you might want to take the toilet paper off before you see Mr. Stark." Her big brown eyes sparkled mischievously.

He rubbed his jaw, knocking off the bit of tissue he'd missed earlier. He'd been so distracted by thoughts of Kiki while shaving that he probably looked like the survivor of a gang fight. Then the full impact of her words hit him. "Damien's here?"

He glanced at the wristwatch he'd inherited from his stepfather five years ago. Before then, he'd always checked the time on his phone. Now, he liked having the reminder. Not only of the only father he'd ever known--a man who'd been unfairly robbed of life at sixty-two when he'd died of an unexpected heart attack--but of the simple fact that time was always too short.

He'd expected Damien about nine-fifteen, just before the first marketing consultant arrived for his pitch at nine-thirty. But according to the analog display, it wasn't yet eight. "He's in my office? Did he say why he came so early?"

She smoothed her short dark hair, a gesture he'd learned was a nervous habit. "All he said was that he was going to wait in your office. I didn't know--I mean, I wasn't sure--"

"It's fine," he assured her, understanding perfectly why even his pit bull would have been too intimidated to suggest Stark wait elsewhere, or to inquire why he'd arrived so early. To put it bluntly, Damien Stark was a force of nature. A former professional tennis player, he'd left the game to launch a multi-billion-dollar international conglomerate with fingers in tech, real estate, entertainment, and so much more. From what Noah had read in the papers and learned for himself, the man had a past even more twisted than Noah's, and an intellect and work ethic that made Noah look like a slacker.

Noah had known Damien socially first through their mutual friend Dallas Sykes, and he'd found the man surprisingly down to earth. But once Noah had come to work for Stark Applied Technology, Noah had witnessed Damien's drive first hand--not to mention how much personal involvement Damien had in all aspects of his empire.

Considering that, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Damien had come early. After all, the Austin office was not only a new addition to Stark Applied Technology, having come into existence after Stark bought a dying tech company, but this was also Noah's first time in the hot seat.

Noah shot a last look toward Carina as he headed for his office door. "If any of the applicants are early, just show them to the conference room. And here's the notebook," he added, passing her the small leather-bound book that he used to sketch out ideas for the various projects he was pondering at any one time. Ironically low tech considering the work he did, but he enjoyed the feel of a pencil against paper.

Every morning she typed up his notes and scanned his sketches, then returned the notebook after his morning phone calls. Today, he'd get it back after he met with Damien.

And now it was time to enter the ring.

He pulled open the door to his office and stepped inside. Damien was standing by the window, gazing out toward the Capital, and looking completely at home in Noah's office. He turned and smiled as Noah entered. But the smile didn't reach those famous dual-colored eyes.

Until that moment, Noah hadn't realized how on-edge he was. But now he was barraged by all the possible reasons that Damien could have come early--reasons that had been in the back of his mind, and that Damien's stoic expression brought to the surface. A leak of their technology to a competitor. A problem on the assembly line. Litigation about the patents involved.

Hell, it could be anything.

The only thing he didn't question was the viability of the tech itself. Noah didn't consider himself arrogant, but he was both honest and self-critical, and he knew damn well that any potential issue didn't come from his desk.

Still, as the president of Stark Applied Technology Austin, any issue with the project fell on his shoulders. Time to find out just what kind of problem he was facing.

He swept out an arm to indicate the interior of his office. "Welcome to SATA," Noah said, using the abbreviated name that he and his staff used for the business. "What's wrong?"

This time Noah saw amusement in Damien's eyes. "Good morning to you, too."

He took one of the guest chairs, and Noah sat in his usual place behind the desk. Damien Stark might be in the room, but this was Noah's domain, and he felt perfectly at home. "Is there a problem on the line?" he demanded.

The first five hundred units were currently rolling out for limited beta testing. He knew the quality of the Stark plants in Asia was above reproach, but that didn't mean they couldn't hit a snag, and--"There's no issue with the hardware," Damien said.

Noah nodded, considering Damien's words. On the one hand, he was glad there wasn't a problem on the line. But that left open the question of why Stark had come early. A question that he immediately posed, then followed with, "Or was it just the lure of my sparkling personality?"

"Can you think of a better reason?" Stark retorted.

"Really can't," Noah said, leaning back in his chair. "Although if we have some extra time on our hands, we might consider naming the damn thing." Officially, the tech he'd created was identified as SAT-29X35a. But since that was a mouthful, everyone on the team had begun simply calling it The Project.

"Which is partly what today's pitches are for."

True enough. At nine-thirty the first of ten marketing and product rollout consultants would arrive. Each had submitted a company resume and a brief proposal for the project, and each had been selected from a pool of over fifty potentials. Today, they were coming armed with a specific campaign proposal. Their challenge was to convince Noah and Damien that they had the skill, the contacts, and the vision to both name and fully market The Project.

"To be honest," Damien said, "I came early because we need to talk about a problem with our timeline. And just so you know, I'd hoped to ask you to dinner with Nikki and me tonight just so we could catch up. But unfortunately we have to leave for Milan this evening."