Chapter Ten

Dr. Vijay Malik was an unassuming man, unless you’d seen him in action. Sam had. Shorter than Sam and wiry, Malik had a quiet, watchful demeanor until he had something to say; then his presence expanded to fill an entire room. Intense was one way to describe Malik’s conversational style. Commanding was another.

Sam’s heart lodged itself in his throat. This meeting would probably ruin him, which was fine. He had more than enough money to live off of for quite some time. Sam had no idea how Michael would survive. However, Michael hadn’t even shown a touch of fear at Malik’s appearance.

God, what a mess. A glorious, wonderful, and horrible mess. Sam’s fault, too. He couldn’t think around Michael, not in the way he should. He’d nearly confessed his love to Michael . . . should have. Shit.

Sundra had known about Michael—his past with Four Rivers. It showed a competency that made Sam feel a bit inadequate. But then, he’d only ever headed up smaller companies. He still had much to learn, apparently, if he even wanted to continue along that path. Consulting started to look better and better . . . he might be able to support them both, if it came to that.

Malik entered a small conference room and they all followed—Sam, Michael, and Greta. Sam glanced Greta’s way, but her expression was the same one she wore while playing poker—utterly unreadable.

Not even an inch, G?

Then again, he wouldn’t give her leeway in the same situation. It wasn’t personal, just business.

Fuck that. Everything was personal now. His life. Michael’s life.

Malik closed the door and gestured at the table. “Please have a seat.” It wasn’t a request.

They all obeyed. Malik remained standing. “Greta has told me you two are involved in a relationship with each other, yes?”

“Yes,” Michael said. “And it’s my fault. I—”

Malik held up a hand. “Fault, no fault. That’s not important.”

No, it really wasn’t. Still, there were details that were. “It’s mutually consensual,” Sam said. “And began prior to us knowing we’d be working together.”

“Ah,” Dr. Malik said. “That’s good to know.” He gripped the back of one of the chairs. “Though a workplace relationship with an employee is not very politic. Your record speaks better of you, Mr. Anderson.”

That was a bit of a punch to the gut. Sam took a measured breath and ignored the warmth in his face. “It does. This situation is—unique. Unexpected.”

Michael shifted in his chair. “He didn’t, in any way, take advantage of the situation.”

“Did you?” Malik had golden-brown eyes, sharp as a hawk’s.

Michael didn’t flinch under that gaze. “No.”

“You’re both lucky that this is a case of prior engagement and that Mr. Anderson has a short-term assignment.” He turned to Michael. “He was never going to remain your boss.”

Michael nodded and a look of understanding passed over his face. “Of course. He’s not part of the merger.”

“No. That was a particular sticking point with the Four Rivers board of directors, though we would have liked him to join us.”

News to Sam. It was a struggle not to speak, but something told him caution was a better approach. Maybe the weight of Malik’s stare, or the indentation his fingers made in the seat cushion he gripped.

“Which brings us to William Vandershoot, the man who would out you, in more ways than one.”

Michael smiled. “I go to Pittsburgh Pride every year. I don’t make a big deal of my sexual preference, but he’s only outing me to nonobservant folks. If they have an issue, that’s their problem.”

“Perhaps it’s not a worry for you, Mr. Sebastian, but for Mr. Anderson?”

It was Michael’s look, not Malik’s, that pressed against his heart. “I—made the decision recently to remain in Pittsburgh.” He swallowed and added. “To be with Michael. I was going to come out anyway.” His face must be red from the heat he felt all over his body. “I’m tired of hiding my sexuality, but I’d rather it be for Michael, not because William is trying to blackmail me.” Anger and pride were a potent mix. He clung to those rather than the fear. He’d been afraid too long.

Michael leaned back in his chair, his confidence so breathtaking Sam focused on Malik instead. Getting turned on now would be even less politic than having sex with Michael in the first place.

But he knew Michael approved of what he’d said. That was what mattered.

Malik nodded once. “And William?”

“He wants in on Sundra,” Sam said.

“William Vandershoot will not be an employee of Sundra Networks, regardless of what personal information of yours he places on the table, nor what recommendation he might try to extort from you.” Malik pushed off the chair and paced the length of the room. “I am tempted to let him follow through with his plan so that the both of you face the consequences of your sloppy behavior.” He turned. “But then you are doing that right now, aren’t you?”

“Better a crisis managed than a disaster allowed,” Sam said.

“Ah, yes. And what would you do, Anderson, in my position?”

Sam tented his hands and placed them against his lips. He hated these kinds of questions. Malik might as well have asked, How should I punish you? His spine hurt from all the tension in his back. “Announce the merger as planned. Have me leave early. I won’t object.”

“And Mr. Sebastian?” Malik said.

“I can’t be site manager.” Michael’s voice was soft, but firm. “You should pick someone from Sundra for that position.”

Malik nodded. “Very good and nearly correct. Officially, your exit date remains the same, Anderson, but you will make yourself scarce at the office earlier.”

“Done,” Sam said.

“Mr. Sebastian, as you surmised, you will not be promoted.”

“Understood.” Michael sat firm in his seat. Calm, as if this were but a summer breeze blowing over him and not yet another chance at his rightful position being snatched away.

That was far better than Sam managed. His legs trembled underneath the table.

“Greta has agreed to work at Four Rivers and manage the transition on-site. Mr. Sebastian will work directly with her. We’ll revisit your role at the office once the merger has been completed and integration is underway.”

Not a closed door, then. Sam let out a breath.

Malik’s expression softened, which was unusual. “If all goes well, this will be a mere bump in the road for you, Michael.”

Michael nodded. “I’ll do my best to earn back your trust.”

“You have my trust. Both of you. This was not an easy thing to bring to us, especially considering all you’ve been through, Michael.”

A crack in Michael’s unflappable armor appeared and he nodded, his lips pressed thin.

No, it hadn’t been easy. But it had been the correct move. Slowly, Sam’s ability to breathe normally returned.

“Now, if you’ll excuse Mr. Anderson and me, we have another topic to discuss.” Malik nodded to Greta. “Thank you.”

Greta and Michael both rose and filed out at the obvious dismissal. Sam had no time to say good-bye to Michael. He’d have to catch him later. And Greta. He owed that woman a drink. An entire month of drinks.

When the door closed, Malik took a seat. “A unique situation?”

Sam folded his hands on the table. “Unexpected and unique.” A chance meeting in a hotel, an odd twist of fate, and exactly the man he needed. “We were both surprised to see each other at Four Rivers.”

Malik’s mouth twitched in a way that looked suspiciously like the start of a smile. “Michael will be fine. Believe it or not, this is not the first time such a situation has happened. We have protocols and procedures for inter-office relationships and neither of you broke any written rule. Four Rivers’ human resource policy is silent on workplace relationships, and you’re not Sundra employees yet.”

And Sam wouldn’t become one. More of the tension leaked away. “You looked this all up? In”—he glanced at his watch—“ten minutes?”

“Greta has access to a good deal of Four Rivers’ paperwork. She did the legwork.”

Wine of the month club for G. Two-year subscription. “Then why penalize Michael?”

“We’re not. No one outside this room will think anything of what will happen. It’ll look like he was groomed by Greta, rather than promoted because of your relationship with him.”

It made sense, a great deal of sense. “I should have seen that, considered that.” If he’d been less emotionally involved, he might have. Or perhaps, Malik and Greta played at a higher level.

Malik leaned back in his chair. “I hazard to guess that your head is not screwed on very straight when it comes to Michael Sebastian.”

Sam cleared his throat. “No, not at all.”

Malik waved that away. “I’m more interested in William Vandershoot.”

William. The equilibrium he’d lost when William had threatened Michael snapped back into place. Sam leaned forward. “How much do you know about the financial dealings of Four Rivers’ last CEO, Taylor?”

“Only what the report said.” He tented his fingers. “You know more?”

Oh, did he know more. “I’m not sure how William is connected to this, but my instinct tells me he very well might be.”

“Do tell.”

Sam did. All the details he remembered. The discussions with the board around the shady dealings of the last CEO, what he could recall of William’s reactions to the discovery. William’s stunt of trying to shorten the test cycle and his reaction to Sam’s fighting against that. All of what Fabian had told him about the potential Ponzi scheme. He spilled everything he suspected about William—and how he’d planned to verify Fabian’s information.

“And if this becomes a legal investigation?”

“I’m more than willing to help.” He pressed a hand against the table to prevent himself from curling it into a fist. “I don’t appreciate being blackmailed.” He hated how this all had come out. God only knew what Michael thought.

“Nor do I like being manipulated,” Malik said. “The recent audit didn’t turn up any odd dealings with William and Four Rivers, but if he’s involved in other endeavors . . .”

“He may need a place to duck and cover.”

“Or a new source of income.”

That hadn’t occurred to Sam. Perhaps William had burned through cash? It only took a few venture capital deals going south to take out a pile of money, but the Four Rivers buyout should be pretty large. “I’ll find out what I can.”

“Good.” Malik rose. Sam stood and followed him to the door.

Malik paused. “I will be having lunch with William on my own. I suspect there’s a more important conversation you should attend to.”

Sam stared at Malik.

The other man chuckled and held out his hand. “I saw the look on your face when we walked up. Some expressions are universal, Sam.”

Sam shook Malik’s hand and spoke around the gratitude lodged in his throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re giving up quite a bit for Mr. Sebastian.”

“No,” Sam said. “No, I’m not.”

Malik’s smile was small, but warm. “Good man.”

***

Michael sat at the bar, stared at his glass of water, and contemplated the twists and turns that had brought him to this place. Starting Four Rivers with Rasheed and Susan, then having them walk away—so maybe they hadn’t screwed him over. All the years he’d thrown himself into the work—poured his heart into the company that wasn’t his anymore. And then a chance vacation.

Had he not stayed in that particular hotel in Curaçao, not spent his last night in the bar, he’d not have met Sam . . . not the way he had. They would have met at Four Rivers. Would there have been sparks then? Would they have fucked in the gym shower? Probably not.

Or maybe they would have. There was no denying the instant attraction he’d—they’d—felt. Certainly once he had gotten to known Sam, Michael’s desire had only increased—especially the way Sam loved the pain and release Michael gave him. They could have ended up in the same situation.

He’d kept his job and Four Rivers. Even held on to the promise of promotion that would put him back where he belonged. And he still had Sam. God, at least he hoped he still had him. He loved that intensity, the frenetic energy in Sam that Michael could tame with a touch and the promise of pain and pleasure, but it came with Sam’s ability to turn on a dime and rationalize away his own feelings. Michael loved Sam anyway. Every ounce of his body wanted to be with Sam, to share his life, to learn more and more about him. Maybe they would last, maybe they wouldn’t, but damn it, they needed to try.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice, soft in his ear, startled Michael out of his thoughts. Sam slid up to the bar, but didn’t sit.

There was that nervous energy again. “Don’t you have lunch with Dr. Malik and William?” He’d seen the latter in the lobby, looking smug. William had stared while Michael had crossed to the bar. William was also a large part of the reason Michael sat with his back to that area.

“Malik told me to spend my time with you.”

What? Michael swiveled in his seat to get a better look at Sam. “Are you serious?” Dr. Malik had seemed unaffected by the news of their relationship, but it was quite a different thing to actively support it.

“He didn’t use those words, but the meaning was clear.” Sam’s leg seemed to vibrate. “And there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” A flush crept up Sam’s neck and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Sparks traced through Michael’s limbs at the sight of Sam’s anxiety. He couldn’t tell if this was good news or bad news. “Shall we go grab something to eat? Or find somewhere private . . . ?”

“Both. But privacy first.” A faint smile touched Sam’s face.

Not bad news, judging by that expression. The tingling surged down into Michael’s balls and his cock shifted. He stood, so close that he towered over Sam. “My room, then?”

Sam tilted his head back to meet Michael’s gaze. “Yes.” His response was breathy. Then he grinned.

Maybe they could skip lunch. There wasn’t a presentation Michael wanted to see until two. He gave Sam a nudge with his shoulder. “Elevator.”

Sadly, they shared most of the ride up with an older couple obviously in New Orleans for sightseeing or Michael would have done far more than stick his hands in Sam’s pockets and watch the flush on his neck grow. That changed, the instant the door to Michael’s room clicked shut behind him. He caught Sam and pulled him backward, pushing his erection into Sam’s crack. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”

Sam groaned and pressed against Michael. His words came out as a gasp. “I’m in love with you.”

Those words set every inch of Michael’s skin aflame. He kissed the back of Sam’s neck and rocked his cock against Sam’s ass. “Say that again.” He needed to hear it once more, just to be sure.

“Oh fuck.” Sam twisted in Michael’s arms, increasing the friction between them. “I’m in love with you, Michael.”

He loosened his hold on Sam and turned him around.

Sam shook with need, the flush now coloring his cheeks. His lips were parted. “I love you.” There was no hesitation in his expression, only open honesty.

Michael brushed his thumb against Sam’s lips, his fingers trembling. “I love you, too.”

“Do you?” Sam’s smile was dazzling. “Well, good.”

“Why the hell do you think I want to be with you? See if we can make this work?” Michael tugged at the knot of Sam’s tie, loosening it. He kissed Sam’s neck. “It’s not just your sense of style, you know.”

Sam’s voice was deep and full of gravel. “Well, thank goodness for that.” Sam cupped the front of Michael’s pants, and massaged the length he found there. “I wouldn’t want to think you love me just for my taste in suits.”

It was Michael’s turn to moan. “If you keep that up, lunch won’t happen.” Nor much in the afternoon, either.

Sam opened a little space between them. “You’re right. And lunch would be normal. A date, even.”

Even though Michael’s dick ached, he nodded. Very normal. Something a couple would do. “I suppose we could turn in early instead.” If he had to wait all day for Sam, he was going to spend all night making Sam thrash and moan.

Sam reached up and pulled Michael’s head down for a kiss. Not a burning or hard one—a taste of lips and tongue that was too short. “You have more tricks in that bag of yours?”

That didn’t help the state of Michael’s cock at all. “Just you wait and see.” He had more than enough toys to keep Sam just like he enjoyed him—breathless and shaking.

“Promise?”

“Yes.” For as long as Sam wanted and needed. “You sure about lunch?”

It was Sam’s stomach that responded, growling loudly. “Sorry,” Sam said. “I guess crises make me hungry.”

“I meant going out with me. In public. Together.”

Sam hesitated, but his smile didn’t falter—just softened. As did his voice. “I’ve wanted to be me for so long. I should have told my colleagues to go fuck themselves years ago. Yes, I’m sure.”

Michael took Sam’s hand and pulled him toward the door. “Then let’s go.”

“I bet the concierge can recommend a place with authentic Cajun cuisine,” Sam said. “And maybe something French for dinner.”

He’d like that, except there were other considerations. “I’m still here to work, Sam. I should probably network. Go to dinner with Sundra folks.” They headed back toward the elevator.

Sam shrugged. “Invite them. Greta, too. I’d rather that than some lame strip joint.” He paused. “But lunch is for us.” He pressed the down button.

After dinner? That would be for them, as well.

The elevator doors opened, and Michael followed Sam. Career, promotion, and Sam. He had it all, but the most important was Sam. “I’m glad you said yes.”

Sam furrowed his brows for a moment. “To the brandy in Curaçao?”

Michael nodded.

“Best decision I ever made in my life.”

Michael fiddled with the solitary cuff link at his wrist. “Should I give this back to you? I don’t need a remembrance when I have the real thing.”

“No. It’s yours.” Sam paused. “Just like me.”

Sam was his. A lover. A boyfriend. Perhaps more in the future. Only time would tell.

The doors opened, and the hotel lobby lay before them. They stepped out of the elevator together.