Page 26 of Takeover
Not yet.Sam’s voice echoed in Michael’s head.
He pushed that memory aside and focused on the message that accompanied the invite.
I want to meet and discuss the release direction that was decided upon at the BoD meeting. The summary is that we must have the release completed by Routing Forum. I know this is a quicker time frame than originally planned. We’ll be releasing a few features as beta to give test as much time as possible, but it’s still a short window. Here’s the proposed timeline. Bring your questions and solutions to the table. Let’s make this work. -Sam
Michael studied the milestone dates. Routing Forum was in six weeks, give or take. Three more weeks for dev and three weeks for test. Big event, too. Sponsored by—
Holy shit.
Sundra Networks sponsored Routing Forum. A Fortune 500 company and one that always made the “best to work for” lists. Clarity slammed back into Michael as if he’d put on a pair of mental glasses as well. He glanced around his cube because he had to dosomething. Sundra was wooing them. That had to be it.
Why hadn’t Sam told him that they had to have the release by Forum?
Because you didn’t give him a chance, you fuckhead. And you’ve been running from him since—
Since the shower. Since he’d seen that look on Sam’s face, the one behind every mask, and heard the words Sam spoke—and those he hadn’t voiced as well. Sam needed him, wanted him, wasn’t out. Michael had no idea what to do about that, didn’t want to deal with the twist in his heart. The breakup with Rasheed and the aftermath had nearly killed him.
But this? He could fix this.
Michael brought up his instant messenger. The dot by Sam’s name was green. Before he thought too long about it, Michael typed a question.
Are you still here?
One click and the IM was sent. A moment later, the window flashed.
Yes.
Michael pushed himself out of his chair and headed for Sam’s office. Movement, that was good. His heart still tried to punch a hole in his rib cage.
Sam must have heard Michael coming, because he swung his chair toward the door as Michael approached. Cold expression, arms crossed. Michael expected that, but seeing Sam closed off only served to increase the tightness in his lungs. He spoke anyway.
“You should have—”
Sam leaned back in his chair. “I should have what?” Each word was clipped.
Michael placed his hand on the doorframe to steady himself against the anger laced in Sam’s words.I’m fucking this up.“Let me try that again,” he said. “I should have listened to you rather than running off at the mouth.”
Some of Sam’s cold mask melted. “Yes. That might have been better.”
“May I?” Michael pointed at one of the chairs in front of Sam’s desk.
A nod, nothing more. Sam’s arms remained firmly crossed. A spark of irritation rose in Michael, but he swallowed it and sat. He deserved some of this cold shoulder. “If they need the release by Forum, then your plan makes a lot of sense.”
“Imagine that.” Bitter humor there.
The spark threatened to burst into anger. “I’m trying to apologize here.”
Sam’s mask cracked. It wasn’t ice beneath, but heat. “Well, you’re doing a shit-poor job at it.” Sam’s skin colored, and it was only then Michael noticed how strained every one of Sam’s muscles was.
I’m really fucking this up.
Sam must have read some of that in Michael, because his expression shifted to one of exhaustion. “I thought you trusted me, that you saw me as more than just a suit come to make money off your backs.”
He opened his mouth to say that he did trust Sam, that he knew he wasn’t just here to make money—then snapped his jaw shut. Because it wasn’t true. He looked at his hands to avoid Sam’s gaze. “You’re still a CEO.”
“Yes, I am. Your CEO, in fact.” There was a long pause before Sam spoke again. “Michael, whose office was this?”
The question threw him completely. “You mean before you? Taylor’s.”
