Page 10 of Takeover-
“Sure. We can run it through on my box. I know they were seeing it intermittently in the field, but I can reproduce it fairly easily.”
The sounds in the room changed, became more hushed. Mike looked at the door and stopped breathing.
He knew the man following William into the room. The dark hair, the lean face, those pale eyes.
Sam.Holy fuck.It was Sam.
Michael leaned against the windowsill, digging the sharp edge of the marble into his back. He needed something to keep him upright because his legs weren’t doing a good job.
S. Randell Anderson. Sam. The rat-sucking board had hiredhisSam as CEO. The fantasy-fling he’d relived dozens of times so he could forget this mess walked in behind William.
Sam’s gaze met his, and for a split second, the lunchroom vanished. Sam’s lips parted, as if to speak Michael’s name, but he turned and offered William a professional smile, as though Michael didn’t exist, as if they hadn’t fucked in Curaçao.
This was not good. Michael bit his tongue and forced his heart rate back to something reasonable. He wanted to run—escape the room, find his car keys, and get the hell out of downtown.
Sam could not be his boss, not after Michael had spent a night fucking and spanking the man. No way in hell.
But there Sam was, taking the microphone from William. He tapped the top and spoke. “Good afternoon.”
That silenced the rest of the lunchroom. Michael sucked in a breath. His heart still beat a mile a minute, and hearing Sam amplified didn’t help. That same voice had begged Michael to take him harder.
This was so so so not good. Michael wanted that voice to beg him again. Wanted that man on his knees and that mouth wrapped around his cock.
Shit. Michael gripped the windowsill. There was nowhere to run. He could only listen.
“As you’ve probably guessed, my name is S. Randell Anderson. TheSis for Sam, by the way.” He paused and his gaze skimmed over the crowd, lingering briefly on Michael. “That’s the first question everyone asks.”
A flutter of laughter.
Sam smiled. “You can call me Randell or Sam or Randy or You Fucking Jerk. I don’t particularly care, as long as you’re willing to work with me.” Another pause, and the smile faded into that same intense smoky look Sam had held in the bar. “And I do mean work, because the next several months are going to consume you and me. I apologize in advance to your families and friends for that, but you all know why I’m here.”
No laughter now.
Sam glanced around the room. “Four Rivers Networks is in dire straits. That half-baked release that went out into the field did more to kill your reputation than a string of low sales quarters. If something isn’t done, by this time next year, this office won’t exist.”
The murmurs returned and Sam held up his hand. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you everything will be okay and if we’re all one happy corporate family, sunshine and rainbows will cover the building with gold and money will fart out our asses.” He leaned into the microphone and his voice boomed. “Not going to happen.”
A deathly silence hung over the lunchroom, broken only by the sound of Sam’s shoes as he walked back and forth in front of them. “However, I wouldn’t be here if there were no hope, no way of turning things around. The first task I want everyone in this room focused on for the next month is to put out the quality release that should have gone out to our customers. I know you can do it because you’ve done it before. That will go quite some way toward regaining your reputation as a builder of world-class networking software and equipment.”
Michael’s brain swam and the garish colors of the room made him nauseous. This couldn’t be happening. If Sam were a CEO, then Michael was sure as shit he wasn’t openly gay. Someone in his team would have mentioned that, so Sam was another fucking Rasheed.
A woman at one of the tables raised her hand, catching Sam’s attention. “And what are you going to do?”
“That’s a good question.” He pointed to the table. “What’s your name?”
“Metap.”
Good for Metap. Jennifer sat next to her and together they were a force to be reckoned with. Someone had to challenge Sam. He fucking couldn’t at the moment.
“Metap,” Sam repeated. “I’m going to smooth over a ton of ruffled customer feathers and try to make sure they don’t cancel contracts. I’m going to work with your managers to get you all what you need to get the job done, and I’m going to be the wall between you and the idiot directors who don’t know how much effort it takes to put out the highly complex product you do.” Sam looked over his shoulder at William. “No offense.”
That gained Sam a few chuckles but William looked pained.
Sam worked the room like a pro. Said all the right things. Begrudgingly, Michael had to give the man credit. Sam-the-CEO didn’t sound like your average suit—he wasn’t coating it with sugar then flinging poo at them. Maybe… this CEO might work out after all. His cynical side scoffed at the thought. The same board had demoted Michael, despite his role in starting the company. They’d hired Taylor and Vince. He couldn’t trust anything the board did.
But there was Sam, in the front of the room and a deep part of Michael wanted to trust him.
Because Sam had trusted Michael. Surrendered to him. Had come for him.
