Secret Skin

Tonight's host was Tad Bremmer, President of AcTel, who, if the scuttlebutt was accurate, were drowning and looking for money to shore up the holes. In fact, there was Tad now, making a beeline toward him and trying not to be obvious about it.

Tad offered him a glass of champagne and laughed too loudly, nerves very close to the surface, unless Dillon'd read him wrong. Reading men wrong was not something that Dillon did. There was a reason he was the owner and CEO of a multi-billon dollar holding company, and his business acumen was only part of it.

He accepted the drink from Tad, and elicited far more information from the man than Tad had no doubt meant to share, while managing to keep his own cards close to his vest.

It was a typical evening. A boringly typical evening.

At least it was until James Stutton, CEO of one of his subsidiary companies asked him if he'd met Scott Daly yet.

Dillon turned and smiled. Oh yes, he'd met Scott before. The man was a broker -- one of the best, to be honest -- and they traveled in many of the same circles, often found themselves at the same events.

Scott was a prim, proper, button-downed businessman with short dark hair and dull brown eyes. He carried himself very precisely, never said the wrong thing, never drank, and made both himself and his clients a ton of money. He was imminently forgettable.

Except that Dillon knew Scott’s little secret.