Page 13 of Takeover-
“An important one.” He spoke the words with the same intensity imbedded in Michael’s response. “I’ve talked to your coworkers and everyone points to you as the person who makes this company tick. Whether you know it or not”—he paused and studied Michael’s hard face—“you’re the linchpin that holds this mess together.”
Michael didn’t move for several seconds. Then he sighed and seemed to sink deeper into the chair. “Please don’t tell me that.”
“Look, I know what you’ve been through—”
Michael’s reply lashed like a whip. “No, you don’t. Don’t even think that you do.”
Sam caught his breath. His arms shook.Fuck. Dead silence between them.
Michael spoke again, softer this time. “There’s a difference between reading what’s on paper and actually living through the time.”
“Of course.” Sam’s cheeks burned. More to the story, obviously. He wasn’t about to pry now. “Regardless, you’re passionate about all you do.”
He’d felt that in Curaçao, long and hard.
A thin smile appeared on Michael’s lips before vanishing. “What we’ve built here. It’s good technology. Good code. And the people here—” He straightened. “They’re great folks, Sam. Wickedly smart. We’ve done more with a handful of people than all the big boys have in the same amount of time. They deserve better than what they’ve had.”
“That’s a large part of the reason I’m here.” He’d seen their equipment at a client site and watched the larger companies try to break it. Rock-solid code… until three weeks ago.
“No.” Michael coughed a bitter laugh. “You’re here to sell us out. To make some fast cash.”
More heat crept up Sam’s neck. There was truth to Michael’s accusation; the board did want to sell the company. The bonus Sam would get if they managed that was quite nice. But he wasn’t here just to make money—that was never the reason he stepped into a company like Four Rivers. He lowered his voice, but not his intensity. “I want to see that the right things are done.”
“And what right things would those be?” Michael didn’t move, but his dark gaze pinned Sam against the chair and sent a bolt of heat to his balls. “Fire staff? Push us to our limits before handing over our IP?”
Sam resisted the urge to fidget under Michael’s scrutiny. He leaned forward, taking control. “Not if I have my way.” He let that sink in. “The board wants out. They’d gladly sell the intellectual property and fire everyone if they could, if it wouldn’t be such a bad PR move. I’m here to prevent that.”
Michael continued his study of Sam. “And what do you want to happen?”
Sam hoped he hid the shudder that ran down his spine. What he wanted was to be stripped of his clothes, Michael’s lips on his and Michael inside him again. That wasn’t even an option. God. His legs shook. “I want this company—and the people here—to be acquired. Not just Four Rivers’ IP, but all the talent as well.” He paused. “That’s the only route to survival.”
“Is that even possible after”—Michael’s face twisted—“the debacle we just went through?”
“It’s a hell of a lot harder now than it was a month ago. But I think we can still manage it, as long as we can fix the damage done. Show them that we can turn things around, that the people here are as good as you say.”
Michael frowned. “Show who?”
Sam froze. Damn, the man was perceptive. “I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Hard words.
“Does it make a difference?” His response was soft, but equally unyielding. He might be submissive in bed, but the hell he would be in his own office.
Michael sighed, and finally looked away. “Not particularly, I suppose.”
“Are you willing to work with me, Michael?”
A genuine smile graced Michael’s face, one that sent electricity down every nerve. “Call me Mike. At least at work.”
“Mike.” There would be no calling him anything after work, no matter how much Sam wanted the man. One night had to remain just that. Too much to risk losing.
“What about you? Are you willing to listen to me?” Michael scooted to the edge of the chair, inching closer. “Or will you throw me under the bus when things don’t go smoothly? When my team finds issues? When I contradict you?”
Sam’s chest ached. So, back to being a suit. Fine. “I don’t punish people for doing their jobs. What kind of asshole do you think I am?” That came out far stronger than he’d intended.
But the shock on Michael’s face was priceless.
Sam softened his voice. “I’ve an open-door policy. I’m always willing to listen, and I do actually act on what I hear.”
