Page 44 of Takeover-
How would those people he’d just spoken to have reacted if they had known Sam was gay? That he longed for the touch of another man? Hell, he probably wouldn’t have been asked to make a speech. He wasn’t nearly at the level where gay no longer mattered and could be celebrated. You had to be head of Apple or American Eagle for that—not someone like him.
And certainly not someone like that grad student in the alley. Sam rubbed his head. He had grown up sheltered, protected. He’d never experienced anyone hurt like that before—not at someone else’s hands. Worse than the movies. The smell of blood, fear, anger, and hopelessness.
Sam stared at his hands. Nothing he could do about that now. The past was past. He exhaled and stuffed the memories back into the corners of his mind, where they belonged.
A quick check of his watch told him there was time to kill before Michael gave his technical presentation.
Sam could spend it with his head in the clouds, or make himself useful.
The latter was the better option. Time to see what the competition was up to. He wouldn’t be leading Four Rivers—or Sundra—into the future, but he would leave a sheaf of advice for the next person. If Sam had his way, it would be Michael who would run the Pittsburgh office—take the position that should have been his from the beginning.
Sam browsed the exhibitors’ hall, making mental notes of the protocols touted, the research explained, the hardware advances on display. Of most interest were the snippets of conversations. He cataloged it all, then found a quiet spot to type several quick notes into his smart phone.
Ten minutes before Michael’s talk, Sam found the listed room and took a seat. At the front, Michael was deep in a conversation with Miles Breck, the VP of Engineering at Sundra. William hovered near by, looking like a nervous hen—or a shark waiting for a kill, Sam couldn’t decide which. William’s presence infuriated—the man had done just about everything to fuck over Four Rivers and Michael and for what? To fuel a scam?Damn. Maybe he should just drop all the information he knew on the legal department at Sundra and be done with it.
William likely guessed who Sam wanted in the head role in Pittsburgh, but it shouldn’t matter—the directors would cash out and William remained on the board of several other companies. It made no sense to linger after that.
William had screwed Michael once before. Was this somehow personal? A different set of pinpricks tracked down Sam’s limbs. William’s comments from the previous night sounded in Sam’s mind.You don’t do women, do you Mike?Shit. This better not be about that.
Sam made another note on his smart phone. He had a few more favors he could call in, folks who could verify what Fabian had said. Most of all, he wanted William away from Michael. There’d been enough pain in Michael’s life from that man.
A name and a voice reached out from Sam’s past. “Randy?”
Next to him stood a familiar—if somewhat older—woman. “Greta?” Indeed, the woman was the spitting image of one of his undergrad partners-in-crime, Greta Bachman. Still all legs and brown curls, though now she wore a sedate gray pants suit. Her leather shoes had flames on them, like a motorcycle.
Some things never changed.
She sat down. “All grown up and a superstar CEO. How the hell are you?”
He snorted. “Not very starlike. But I’m doing well.”
“I’ll say. I was at your keynote. Same old passionate Randy, making waves.”
Waves? Maybe. He brushed the words away. “What about you? Last I’d heard, you were off getting a PhD. Is it Dr. Bachman these days?”
“That was years ago. But yes.” She studied the front of the room. “I hear you’re bringing Four Rivers to us.”
Us?“You’re with Sundra?” He hadn’t known.
“Director of Quality Assurance.”
Sam shifted in his seat and warmth touched his cheeks. He should have been aware of that. And Greta… she knew a whole host of his secrets. Thankfully, most were inconsequential—stupid college stuff. But he’d been vibrantly out as an undergrad. “You’re here to watch Michael.”
“I’ve heard he’s level-headed, smart, and passionate. Plus he knows his shit.” She crossed her legs. “Kind of like you.”
Time might not have passed at all. All the old rhythms were so easy to resume. “I’m not level-headed.”
She chuckled and dropped her voice to a discrete level. “That’s what all your boyfriends said.”
He didn’t know whether to laugh or wince, and ended up coughing. “Shit, I didn’t know any of them talked to you.”
“All the damn time.” Her smile was infectious. “Is it still Randy? I see you’re S. Randell on the schedule.”
“I still answer to anything.” He paused. “But it’s Sam lately. At Four Rivers, it’s Sam.”
“Sam.” She nodded up to the front of the room. “And your test guy? What’s he like, really?”
Perfect. Hot. Demanding in every right way.Sam folded his arms and eyed Michael. “Passionate, as you said. An expert. He’s what makes the whole damn thing work.”
