Page 61 of Takeover
“I’m the very soul of discretion,” Michael said. “Most of the time.”
Sam snorted and took another sip of his coffee.
“You going to be okay?” From Michael’s tone of voice, Sam knew he meant coming out. Dealing with the past.
“Yeah. I’ll find someone to talk to. Get my shit together. About time I did, really.”
“Good.” Michael grinned before he put on a more professional smile.
They entered the rotating door of the hotel, and Sam slipped back into the role of CEO. “I believe Greta has some people she’d like you to meet.”
Michael nodded. “She said she’d join me here at nine to fill me in on the day.”
The lobby bustled with conference attendees. Sam glanced at his watch. Quarter ’til. They weren’t even late.
They weren’t, however, the first ones. William stood near the self-service coffee bar, stirring too many packs of sugar into his coffee. He looked up and his attention flicked between Sam and Michael, his expression unreadable.
Shit. Sam smoothed over his own features and took another draw on his coffee. The niggling voice in his brain screamed at him to step away from Michael.
You’re overreacting.William was an idiot with a big wallet and a knack for surrounding himself with people who had financial and business sense. There’s no way he’d have guessed there was anything between Sam and Michael other than work camaraderie. The worst accusation William had leveled at Sam was that he acted like a programmer.
Sam nodded to William.
William tossed his stirrer and joined them. “Should have come with us last night, Randell. You missed an amazing set of tits.”
William spoke loudly, turning a few heads. Sam tried not to wince. He didn’t dare look at Michael. “One more drink, and I’d have been asleep in the back of the joint. Glad you and the others had fun.”
William snorted. “You wouldn’t know fun if she bit you.”
Sam gave William his best banal smile before setting down his coffee and donning his suit coat.
William turned to Michael. “What about you, Mike? Want to see what real men like?”
Sam’s blood turned to ice.Holy shit.He hazarded a look to his left. Michael still had his coat tossed over his arm. He looked down at William and the difference between their heights was breathtakingly apparent. Michael’s expression was completely neutral. “I’m not going to answer that.” He shifted his attention and looked over William’s head. “Good morning, Dr. Bachman.”
“Good morning, Michael, Sam.” Greta stood behind William, with an expression that was only half as blank as Michael’s. The other half was disgust.
Sam saluted her with his coffee. Thank God that was over. Fucking William. He owed Greta, even if she didn’t know it. Like old times.
She cleared her throat. “Are you ready, Michael?”
“Yes.” He finished the last of his coffee, tossed the cup, and put on his jacket. Another gray suit, but this one lighter than the previous day’s. The tie had the bright color of the tropics, but without feathers and beaks.
Pity. He was growing fond of tacky parrots.
Michael gave a nod before following Greta toward the main conference rooms.
William stayed, an angry flush creeping up his neck.
“Well, that wasn’t most graceful conversation to have first thing in the morning,” Sam said. “What the hell is wrong with you? Need more of that coffee to clear your head?”
William took a sip and twisted his face. “You weren’t drunk last night, or tired. You’re not interested in women, are you? Are you like him?” He thumbed in the direction Michael had walked.
Sam’s heart thudded hard, but he shrugged, mimicking nonchalance and ignoring the last part. “It’s not a secret I’m not interested in strip bars.”
“Coffee with your employee in the morning? You into that?”
Oh damn it.This better not be going where he thought it might. “We met to talk about Sundra and his potential role there.” He gestured in the direction Michael and Greta had gone. “They’re obviously interested in him, and the self-serve coffee over there is terrible.”
