Page 26 of Takeover-
The title under the photo said, “The Three Musketeers.”
Sam flipped through the book. Photos of the first office—a tiny converted house up north of the city. Rasheed on a skateboard in the driveway. Susan holding a line card in what looked like someone’s garage. A group of ten engineers in front of a hardware bench. That photo read, “First packet passed!”
The younger Michael nearly always wore that smile, the one Sam never saw at the office.
What happened to you?
Sam flipped to a newspaper clipping about the company with the headlinefour rivers makes waves. There again was the photo from the front of the album, only this caption read “Four Rivers’ Founders: Susan Patterson, Rasheed Esfahani, Michael Sebastian.”
The silence of the lunchroom pressed in on Sam’s skull until he could barely breathe. He read the caption a second time and stared at the photo, lingering over Michael’s bright smile.
Michael Sebastian.Founder.
Sam read the article. And there it was again, the combination of Michael’s name and that word.
Holy shit.
Sam turned back to the beginning of the album and glanced at the photos. Flipped past the article and studied the pictures there, as well. Michael and Rasheed. Susan and Michael. The three of them together. Shots of a holiday party, the three clinking champagne flutes. Michael resplendent in a tux, his arm over Rasheed’s shoulder.
Sam closed the album, his face as warm as a voyeur’s.
Michael had been a founder. Only he wasn’t now, sosomethinghad gone horribly wrong. The incorporation of the company hadn’t listed Michael, just Rasheed and Susan. Yes, Michael held a decent amount of private shares, but nowhere near the amount a founder should. It was as if his role in forming the company had been completely erased except for a few dozen photos in an album and a faded newspaper article.
If it were true…
Shit. No wonder the man was bitter.
Every snapshot in the album said that Susan and Rasheed had been Michael’s friends. Sam’s nerves prickled with a combination of excitement and dread. He was still mad as hell at Michael, but there was a puzzle here to be solved, and Sam needed to know now rather than on the cusp of acquisition—they were too close to the end for this to blow up in his face. Sam tucked the album under his arm and picked up the can of ginger ale. He had some web searching to do.
He liked Four Rivers and the people here. What he’d said to Michael had been true; he’d protect the employees. Even if it meant firing Michael.
And if it means unmasking yourself, your past?
He had no answer to that.
* * *
At six in the evening,the air-conditioning shut off. Michael winced as the thumping of the warming vents sounded throughout the office. He should have been used to it by now—this was hardly the first time he’d stayed at work this late, but it always sounded like the ceiling was about to fall down.
Today, he almost hoped it would. Put him out of his misery.
He’d lost three hours after finding Sam in the server room. Oh sure, he sat at his desk. Stared at the screen. Plunked on the keyboard. Got no work done. He should have gone home, but it would have looked strange given all that needed to be finished, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was functioning well enough to drive, anyway.
Sam was willing to fire him. Toss him out of Four Rivers. Out of Sam’s life.
Michael took a deep breath, one of several hundred he’d taken since he’d sat down at his cube, and exhaled. On his screen, the core dump from the zone router sat in a terminal window, but the lines blurred and shook and made no sense and his fucking heart wouldn’t stop racing.
Michael couldn’t decide whether he was more angry at Sam or himself. Sam shouldn’t beinhis life; he should have never bought Sam that drink. Four Rivers was Michael’s life, not Sam’s, and Sam—
Sam looked exquisite in the throes of an orgasm. Shivered under Michael’s touch. His skin marked so beautifully when hit by Michael’s hand or belt. Sam’s smile was incomparable and his laugh was something Michael doubted he’d hear again. That was the worst. He could handle not touching Sam in the future, but somehow, they’d gone from lovers to friends to enemies.
Life wasn’t supposed to work like that. On the other hand, they were back to employee and CEO—what they should have been from the beginning.
They’d ended up at this point because Michael had broken his own rule and gotten involved with a coworker. A fucking closeted coworker. Wholikedto be whipped. Craved it. Begged for it. Something Rasheed never needed or wanted.
Sam had threatened to fire him. Something Rasheed would never have done.
“Shit.” Michael took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.
