Page 90 of Ten Day Affair
I stay seated longer than I need to, gathering my things. I need to call Dorian and let him know we are good to go.
Eventually, I push to my feet and reach for my jacket. The room’s quiet now. Only a few stragglers remain.
“Mr. Houston.”
I turn. Dr. Samuel Taylor stands near the door, his posture composed, voice unreadable.
“Can I have a word?”
I nod, buttoning my jacket. We step just outside the room into the hall, where the carpet absorbs everything but the tension.
He doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he looks at me with that same surgeon’s steadiness Sam carries when she’s pissed.
“You surprised me in there,” he says finally.
I try to gauge where he's going with this, so I say nothing.
“Floating that hybrid model was a bold eleventh-hour move.”
“I thought it deserved consideration,” I say evenly.
“But you didn’t push it.”
“No.”
A beat passes.
“Why bring it up at all?” he asks, and I hear what he’s saying beneath it.
I can't tell him I didn't want my fingerprints on it. I couldn't be in the minutes as the one who proposed an amendment that was contrary to what Kings Holdings had in place.
I glance down the hallway. “Felt like the board needed to consider it.”
His eyes narrow slightly. “You followed my daughter out. Was that part of your board duties, too?”
That lands with precision, but I say nothing.
He studies me for another beat. “Are you sleeping with her?”
The question hits like a sucker punch. I meet his eyes, but I don’t answer right away. Because anything I say next is going to cost something.
He lets the silence hang.
“I’ll take that as a yes. You need to end it,” he says quietly but very matter-of-factly.
Still calm and measured, which makes it worse.
“For her sake. And yours.”
He gives me one last look, then walks away.
And just like that, my job and whatever I was doing with Sam are over. But the damage is just getting started.
The back door closes with a soft thud as I slide into the car. The AC hums, and the cool leather is a welcome sensation against my back. Javier nods at me in the rearview.
“Back to the house, sir?”
“Yeah.”
