Page 22 of Takeover-
He pushed off of William’s chair and walked toward the back of the room. “So, which bet will you take?”
“What if I told you Sundra wants the release in two and a half months’ time?” William’s voice betrayed his anger.
An ache flickered against the back of Sam’s skull, and he swallowed his fury. He reached the opposite end of the conference table, then leaned over, pressing his fingertips against the surface. “If that’s true,” he said, his voice low and strong, “then you should have told me that from the beginning, rather than wasting my fucking time playing games.”
The board members squirmed in their seats. William’s face turned red.
What the hell was William’s plan?
Brigitta Holderolff, the sole woman on the board, cleared her throat. “Sundra wants it in two and a half, in time for Routing Forum.”
Sam straightened. “Then what are you willing to give up?”
No one spoke for a moment, and then they all did, to him, to each other. Sam reached his chair and took a seat. Now it was just up to negotiations. Ice gripped Sam’s spine. He’d have to give something as well, if this were to work.
Michael would not be pleased at all, and that confrontation he dreaded more than a year’s worth of board meetings.
Worse, though, was the mix of fury and calm in William’s steady gaze. Sam schooled his expression, despite the dread eating up his spine.
* * *
Sam foundthe server room cold and deserted—which was perfect. No one came in here, giving him the privacy he needed to decompress after the board meeting. The whirring of the ventilation system and the fans on the rack-mounted equipment created a shield of white noise, blocking out conversations in the hall and soothing his nerves. No dinging of e-mail or ringing of phone in here. He wasn’t sure he even got cell reception huddled among all the electronics. Blessed silence lurked in a blanket of humming.
In the back corner of the room, he sat on a step stool tucked behind one of the equipment racks and nursed the start of what he suspected would become a very bad headache.
After some hard bargaining and quite a bit of raised voices, he and the board had struck a deal. They’d given Sam three weeks for testing, and the more experimental protocols would only be certified as beta released—full testing would not be needed. The rest of the features would be released for general availability.
Michael would not like it. Hell, Sam didn’t like it. He had done his best to carve out as much time as he could for the testing team, but there’d still be late hours and working weekends in their future. Sam rubbed his temples. He wasn’t ready to face Michael yet, especially the way their interactions had been of late.
Lately, Michael might as well be a ghost. He existed in the office and Sam caught glimpses, but they no longer spoke. Hell, most of the questions from the testing team came from people other than Michael.
That time in the shower had been a damn good fuck, but if he had known it would ruin the blossoming friendship, he’d never have asked. The look on Michael’s face in the end—after a slight hint that Sam felt something beyond physical attraction, Michael had run for the hills. Sam’s throat tightened. He should have known. Michael had made Sam’s place in his life very clear. Just a suit, a captain of industry to be bent over, beaten, and fucked for kicks.
That wasn’t entirely fair. Besides, had things continued… then what? A relationship meant stripping off the mask he’d worn since grad school, that of the prudish but probably straight man.
Sam shivered. Maybe that persona was already gone. The look William had given him—that comment…
No. William wasn’t that observant. It had more to do with Michael than with Sam—Michael whowasopenly gay.
Sam never thought he’d long for his undergraduate days, but in some ways, he’d been whole then—even though he could never keep a boyfriend and the whole four years had been one long, tumultuous fight with professors and students alike.
Then the night in the alley had happened and he’d done nothing. Sam shivered. Well, he’d made his choices. Paid his price, it seemed, too.
Certainly, the impending news from the board wouldn’t improve Michael’s opinion of him, even if there were any hope of a relationship.
That shit William. If he had his way, Sam would be the captain of a sinking boat. That slick smile and too-hard handshake at the end of the board meeting did not bode well. The man wanted Sam to fail, that much was obvious, but why? Why bring him here in the first place, if not to raise up Four Rivers like a phoenix from its burning pyre?
Maybe Taylor wasn’t the only one with sticky fingers in the cash jar. Sam sat up. Time to do a little research. See what William was into. Perhaps the way things with Michael had turned out was for the best, as well. Once Four Rivers was sold, he’d be off to a new struggling company. His nomadic life left little room for friendship, let alone anything beyond that—even if he hadn’t stuffed himself into the closet.
As Sam stood, the telltalebeep-clickof the security pad sounded from the door and Sam’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he felt like an errant child, caught hiding where he shouldn’t be; then his brain kicked in. He was the CEO and if he wanted to sit in the server room, he damn well could. He coughed and stepped out from behind the equipment rack.
Michael stood in front of the closing door, mouth parted, his glasses glinting in the florescent lights. The door clicked closed with a rattle of wood against metal.
“What are you doing here?” Michael said.
“I work here.” Sam deadpanned the words.
Michael exhaled, exasperation overtaking his surprise. “I meant what are you doing in this room? It’s not like you know anything about mail servers or routers.”
