Page 3 of Sex, Blood, and Real Estate

"It's beautiful," Sam told him and took another taste. "This is very old stock."

"Yes, only two bottles remain, and I'm saving one of them for your bonding ceremony." He smiled, and Sam laughed.

"You could be waiting for a very long time, Uncle." Sam would love to find his beloved, but it didn't look promising as people all around him found their forever while Fate kept skipping him.

"That's what I thought too, and just when I was about to give up hope of ever finding my love, my beautiful Taylor walked into my life, so don't scoff because your love could be around any corner. If you recall, mine was sitting in the vineyard waiting for me." He smiled, and whenever he spoke of Taylor, his mood lightened. He truly adored that young man. It was apparent in everything he said and did and shown in his eyes every time he looked at him.

"I doubt I'll ever find someone as perfect as your Taylor," Sam responded thoughtfully.

"Perfection is in the eye of the beholder and when you see your intended, he will be the answer to everything and the source of all you desire." Wow, that sounded amazing, but Sam did not let himself get too caught up in the dream since his time could be many years away, and he had more pressing issues at the moment.

They talked about a variety of things for a while and then Sam got down to business. He needed Emmanuel’s permission to go after Holden Grey supernaturally. Glamours were not performed lightly, and all ramifications of such action had to be taken into consideration.

"You're a very careful man, Sam, so I know that if you are being pushed to this extreme, there is a valid reason for it, and I know you have weighed every option." Sam appreciated his uncle's trust. "You have my permission to do whatever you believe necessary to secure the property in question, and I look forward to seeing your plans for that new property." With that, Sam had all the approval he needed to make it happen.

Wyatt arrived to work an hour late since he had to stop at City Hall first to get the needed documents and naturally Griffen met him at his desk. “Just because you’re the boss’s kid doesn’t mean you can be an hour late.”

He decided not to engage or explain if his father had a problem; he would tell him. Wyatt nodded, acknowledging his presence, but did not respond otherwise. "Do you have the documents for Mr. Cabot?"

“Yes.”

“You should get that to his office as soon as possible. Why are you hanging around here you should be on your way.” He was in a special mood this morning probably because he was taken to task for not reaching a deal yesterday. Holden Grey never took responsibility for failure he always managed to put it upon someone else and in this case, it was Griffen Humbolt.

"Whatever you do remember do not talk to Samuel Cabot just give the paperwork to his assistant and leave. Samuel Cabot is the nephew of Emmanuel Cabot and is in line to take over the Cabot empire when the old man retires, so don't embarrass yourself by trying to speak to him." Griffen was just talking for the sake of talking now.

Wyatt stopped and turned back to stare at him for a moment. “Why would I speak with Samuel Cabot?” Griffen looked a little taken aback by Wyatt’s look of bewilderment.

“Just don’t.” He stated firmly and then walked away. Wyatt headed out to drop off the paperwork. That's who he was now, just a glorified messenger boy with a master's degree in business.

The Cabot offices occupied the entire building, so he went to the top floor where Samuel Cabot’s office was to drop off the package. He approached the main desk and was directed to the office of Marc Wellman, Mr. Cabot’s assistant and the man who requested the material.

"Good morning." Mr. Wellman met him and ushered him into his office. Introductions were made, and Wyatt handed over the material. The office was quite warm, so he removed the scarf he was wearing and stuffed it into his coat pocket.

Mr. Wellman offered him a cup of coffee, but Wyatt turned it down, knowing he needed to get back to work before he was accused of some business faux pas or overstepping his bounds in some manner. Mr. Wellman thanked him for the documents and for delivering them personally as if he had any choice in the matter.

Wyatt was soon on his way back to the office when his phone rang while in the elevator. “You should be done, get out of there right now before you ruin everything.” Griffen was becoming certifiable, or he was building a case to blame everything on Wyatt if things break down. Wyatt decided to record the call.

"I dropped off the package to Mr. Wellman, Mr. Cabot's assistant, and no conversation took place." He said, just as flat and lifeless as he was feeling. "I saw only the man at reception and Mr. Wellman. I am in the elevator and will be returning within the next ten to fifteen minutes." The way Wyatt responded seemed to catch Griffen off guard for a moment.

"Okay, well, just don't talk to anyone, or you'll screw this whole thing up for us." He reiterated the danger.

“Goodbye.” Wyatt could tolerate no more and closed the call. He would have to start keeping notes on Griffen’s behavior in case this all started to turn on him. He had a strong suspicion that he was being fitted to become the patsy for this potential fuck up.

It was just before lunch when Marc told him that they’d received a new proposal from Holden Grey. It arrived sooner than expected and Sam hoped it at least addressed his concerns from yesterday.

The minute he stepped into Marc's office, he felt something. Whatever it was, it was on a different level than simply an aroma or a feeling. It was a fragrance that possessed an entire bouquet of smells and brought Sam up short for a moment as he looked around for the source of the beguiling scent.

“What’s that?” He asked as he continued to eye the room.

"What?" Marc, too, looked around the room.

“That smell.”

"I don't smell anything." Sam could see he was telling the truth but couldn't understand why he wasn't smelling that heavy, heady, wonderful scent. He walked over to a chair by the wall and looked down at the seat. A scarf lay there off white loose knit stylish and masculine.

“Is that your scarf?” he asked.

"No, it belongs to the man who dropped off the new offer this morning. Believe it or not, the messenger was none other than Wyatt Grey, the son of Holden Grey. I was surprised that he would be lowered to such a minor task." He walked over and stood next to Sam. "I was going to drop it back at their offices during lunchtime."

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