Page 65 of Bottles & Blades

JEAN-MICHEL: Meet me in my office as soon as you’re done.

“How big of trouble am I in?” Samantha whispers. “I know I messed up. I didn’t realize she wasn’t your wife. She was here and she gave me her card and?—”

“Do you still have that card?”

Samantha nods shakily. “In my desk.”

I stand, eyes drifting to the cafe longingly for a beat, wondering for the hundredth time why I’m doing this, what Angela really wants, and how I can put an end to the shitshow that’s taken over my life. Then I tuck that all away and focus back on the crisis in front of me. “Let’s go get it.”

Another shaky nod, and I have to give Samantha credit, though.

She doesn’t hesitate when she stands up and follows me to the elevators.

“Tell me exactly what you gave Angela,” I say once the doors close and we’re alone in the car.

She exhales then, “The latest version of the Duarte contract we offered, along with…”

The list she recites gives me a headache.

And my latest nightmare.

Contracts and internal files for proposals on several projects we’re bidding for.

Enough material that she can work with my competitors and undercut us for months.

Christ.

I rub my temple.

“I’m so sorry.”

“We’ll sort it out.” I force a smile. “We always do.”

Meanwhile, I want to find a punching bag and have a go at it till my knuckles bleed.

Later.

For now, I just shove the rage down, wait for the doors to open and trail her to her desk.

She produces the card—which fucking looks identical to my own, with the exception of Angela Dubois-Rosseau printed across the middle.

Christ.

“I’m sorry,” Samantha says softly. “I— it wasn’t until I saw her being escorted out the other day that I realized my mistake.” She nibbles at her bottom lip. “I know I should have told someone sooner, I just…”

“You told me now,” I remind her. “Which is most important. But now I need you to tell Marie and the legal team exactly what happened.”

She goes pale. “I can’t lose my job. My son…he’s going to college, I need?—”

Fucking hell.

“You’re not going to lose your job,” I say calmly. “But they need to know so we can protect the company.” I crouch a little so I can meet her gaze full-on. “You’re not in trouble. I’m not mad. I’m thankful you told me, okay?”

Her throat works, but then she nods. “Okay.”

“Good,” I say. “Now, we’re going to go to my office and talk this through with Marie and legal one more time and then you can head home, okay?”

Another nod. Another “Okay.”

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