Page 6 of The Boardroom: Jonathan
I scoffed and let out a laugh. “Not necessary,” I said, but Sabryna had always been too smart for me. To be honest, that’s why I needed her. She always stopped me before I made any mistakes too big to take back.
“Torver, you lay one finger on her and Samantha Doyle will have your head, you know that right?”
I put my hands up. “Okay. Fine.”
“You heard about that rant she went on in the parking lot yesterday. You’re walking on hot coals here.”
I shook my head. “Why am I always the last person to hear about office gossip? I mean…I’m the boss.”
“It’sbecauseyou’re the boss, you loon.” Sabryna said laughing. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Will do,” I sighed, and sat down to check some emails before the meeting started. I shivered. I could still feel Amy’s eyes raking me over, slowly and methodically, and I smiled.
I was definitely going to sleep with her.
***
An hour later I was waiting in the conference room, contemplating the impossible task of trying to get Samantha Doyle to tolerate me. I looked out the window at the beautiful day outside and groaned. I would have done anything to run out of this ridiculous meeting and go out on my boat and-
“We’re leaving,” I said the second Samantha opened the door. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?” Samantha demanded as she ran after me towards the elevator. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me, you’ll like this. It’s a surprise.”
Samantha looked at me skeptically. She looked tired, and stressed too. Her pantsuit still looked as polished as always, and her brown hair was still coiled around her head in a perfect knot. She looked like she needed a break. And hell, I could use one too. I smirked to myself as the elevator doors opened to the ground level. I had found the perfect way to charm the pants off Samantha Doyle. Not pants, but…you know, never mind.
The Uber I had called pulled up, and I held the door open for Samantha with a smile. “Ready?” I asked, and gave her my most charming grin.
Samantha looked at the interior of the car with a glare of disapproval. “You’re not taking me to a dark alley to murder me, are you?”
“I’m far more of a hired assassin kind of guy,” I said, helping her into the car. “Don’t like to get my hands dirty.” Samantha let out the tiniest of smiles.
I slid down into the seat next to her as the driver made his way to the Seattle harbor. The minivan that had picked us up was less than stylish, and soon the atmosphere was filled with stifling silence and the stench of a cheap cherry-scented air freshener.
“Could you turn on the radio, please?” I asked the Uber driver. He obliged, and I groaned internally as a pop song came through the speakers that was just a bit too saccharine for the current situation. I’ve always been far more of a classic rock sort of guy.
Samantha was furiously typing into her phone, looking as if she might spontaneously combust at any moment. She finally looked up at me, still deeply suspicious.
“Any hints? Twenty questions? Anything?” she asked, with the fire of a well-trained interrogator in her brown eyes.
I smiled. “I hope you don’t get seasick.”
I heard her swear under her breath as the driver turned the volume knob up.
Ten minutes and three sickening pop songs later, our driver pulled up to the busy yet blissful calm of the Seattle harbor.
I jumped out of the car and grinned at the beautiful day before me. The water sparkled in the mid-afternoon sun, and a light breeze was rocking the boats rhythmically back and forth. The boardwalk was peaceful at this time of day, as lunch vendors made their first batches of food and families cruised in between stands with their strollers. The sight of this kind of day would have almost been enough to forget who I was forced to share it with.
“So,” I said, helping Samantha out of the back of the car. “How would you like to have a meeting on my boat?”
“You have aboat?” Samantha said.
“Well gee,” I said playfully. “You don’t have to say it like that.”
Samantha forced a smile, and followed me down the pier with the look of a woman walking into a dentist’s office to get a root canal.
“It’ll be fun,” I said. “My boat is a far better place to have this meeting than the conference room, I promise. It’s a nice boat.”
