Page 43 of Takeover
He had to let Michael go. There’d be no coffee in the morning because there’d be no tonight. The best thing—thelevel-headedcourse of action—would be to stay apart.
Not just a blow to the gut, but a series of them, each worse than before.
Sam leaned back, forced himself to relax, and schooled his expression. He caught Greta’s glance from the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn. Instead, he followed Michael’s movements, the dance of his hands, the flow of his pants as he walked, the expanse of his shoulders. Sam memorized the sound of Michael’s voice, the depth of it, the cadence, like water flowing down a street of cobblestones.
The person most dangerous to the future of Four Rivers now was Sam. Time to fire himself from Michael’s life.
Chapter Seven
Michael had expected dinner out.Much like the previous night, William insisted they hit the French Quarter, though this time William invited several others, including Michael’s likely new boss, Greta Bachman. Over seafood gumbo, she grilled Michael on testing standards, his methodology, how they used Four Rivers hardware in the office network—everything.
It was a damn fine conversation.
She sat back and picked up her wine glass. “Randy said you were good.”
“Randy?” Michael’s brain caught up with his mouth. “You mean Sam.”
“Randy—Sam.” She lifted her glass in salute to Sam, who sat two down from Michael. “Whatever the man’s going by these days. We were classmates, way back when we were too young.”
Interesting. Greta’s tone, her smile, seemed to indicate no animosity. Good. Michael watched Sam speak to some VP of Marketing or some-such department.
They hadn’t talked since Michael had handed Sam coffee in the morning. A flicker of dread chased through Michael. He pushed it away. There hadn’t really been any time to talk.
Michael returned his attention to Greta. “Was he always so driven?”
She nodded. “Got him into a ton of trouble with the department. He was a trailblazer in the true sense… he tended to set fire to everything he left behind. Mind you, it usually needed to be set aflame. Lots of old thinking in the hallowed halls.”
“Different school, but I remember.”
“I’m not surprised he ended up where he did, jumping from company to company and fixing them. Even in engineering, he saw what that needed to be improved on the business side of the world. A way to make space for people to do their jobs.”
“Well, he certainly did that at Four Rivers.”
“Sounds like you did, too, from what he said.”
Michael fished a shrimp out of his gumbo and digested her words. Since the board had taken over he had tried to insulate his people from upper management, give them room to perform and grow without the worry of looking over their shoulders. But his way was to push back at the suits—at the executives. Samwasthe chief executive, and certainly more than just a suit.
So was Greta.
By dessert, Michael realized Greta was sussing out his opinions on more than just testing—she touched on software development, hardware, even manufacturing and purchasing.
“You guys should know all these things.” He spoke softly, over the edge of his coffee cup.
Her smile was as enigmatic as Sam’s could be. “From William, yes.”
Shit.He’d answered truthfully. With any luck, he hadn’t just sunk the acquisition. Who knows what the hell William had said.
They took the long way back to the hotel after dinner. Sam strode ahead with William and the other VP. There was no damn way to get anywhere near him without being exceedingly obvious. Michael wasn’t about to pull Sam aside in front of Sundra folks, especially not Greta—someone who had known Sam in college.
He stole another glance at her. Sam had been out once. Did Greta know? If she did… it was one more hole in the closet Sam had built.
How the hell was he going to break that down? Nothing had worked with Rasheed. Sam’s reasoning might be different, but the result was the same.
Back at the hotel, William and the VP headed for the bar. Sam paused, but it wasn’t Michael he addressed.
“Interested in a drink, G?” The familiarity in Sam’s voice and smile made Michael’s chest ache. Greta and Sam had formed a friendship over years. Would Michael ever hear such warmth from Sam in public?
Orwouldthis be Rasheed all over again? Fuck.
