Chapter Six
“It’s ugly,” Samson said with disappointment.
“It isn’t!” April protested.
“I’m not sure how anyone could find something so lumpy and pointless attractive. Aside from being very big, which I’m sure is satisfying in its own way, I’m not sure what the point is.”
“You really don’t know anything about what’s satisfying, then.”
Samson looked up at the skyscraper once more. So far his trip with April was going well, if not wonderfully. It had been a kick to watch her see Chicago for the first time from high above. When they landed, he took her out to a nice restaurant, which she had enjoyed but not gushed over. She was nervous again, for some reason. He couldn’t figure out why she would stiffen up just as she seemed to get comfortable with him.
On their second day, he took her out for a tour of the city’s architecture, and she temporarily forgot her nerves. Samson bought coffees and pastries and took her on a walking breakfast through Millennium Park, watching her face light up at the curving metal beams above the pavilion and the “Cloud Gate.” Samson said looked like a giant silver jellybean. April laughed and told him that people did call it “The Bean” and that while it was beautiful, it just showed how important it was to think about how the public would perceive your work.
Now, as Samson perceived what he imagined might be the stupidest-looking building in Chicago, April looked up at the Aqua Tower with a bit of reverence. There was something about creative types like her, even pragmatic ones. They had something inside them that was ineffable, and it seemed to be moved whenever they interacted with other ineffables.
Samson rolled his eyes and waited. Their meetings wouldn’t officially begin until tomorrow, so the day was hers. Primarily so that she could see some of the architecture of the city first hand, but also because her story about her parents had impressed upon him how far someone could push themselves, even without the kind of basic support one ought to be able to count on.
“Okay,” April said patiently, “look how the plates curve there, and go flat there? And they circle the entire building?”
“It still doesn’t look like water to me.”
“It isn’t supposed to. It mimics the view of a rock formation.” Her hand moved back and forth, as her fingers traced the wave pattern of the tower. “See the outcroppings, then the shallows? And on the parts that stick out, residents have balconies. Plus, the design takes advantage of natural shading. They would never have built the balconies all around because people don’t have them next to every room anyway, but this way, the architects could merge an unusual aesthetic with functional design.”
Samson narrowed his eyes and then nodded his head slightly. “I suppose I see your point.”
“All right, we can go.”
“We don’t have to.”
“I can tell when someone is bored.” April patted his shoulder. “I promise that our designs will be both functional and pretty. Although I like this one, too.”
“You are merciful.”
Oddly, for all of his experience and time with women, he’d never simply spent the day with one. Not out of bed. Not without the agenda to get there. He took women to dinner, did some showing off, but Samson knew that April wouldn’t be very impressed by that kind of thing. He felt that he’d gotten to know her better during the weeks since Hutchinson got himself fired, and he truly came to enjoy the time they spent together—even just working in comfortable silence. April appreciated beautiful things, but eschewed waste. It was what made her a perfect designer.
They spent the afternoon looking at the major architectural hotspots: They rode up to the Skydeck of the Sears Tower, took in the folded glass front of the Spertus Institute, the “corncob” apartments of the Marina Towers. Normally, an architecture tour would not have been on Samson’s agenda for any city. He wouldn’t be there just to zip up and down tall buildings and stare at design choices that had been made decades ago. Taking the tour with April, though, made it entertaining. Not just because she enjoyed it, of course, but because he got to watch her get so excited; listen to her babble about the history of the city and the designers themselves.
“We can check out a few lesser-known spots sometime later in the week,” Samson suggested as they returned to the hotel.
“Oh, we don’t have to do that. I know that this is a business trip, and you need to focus.” April took a moment to look up at the structure of the Waldorf Astoria again. Samson could read little flickers of disappointment and appreciation as she deconstructed each piece carefully.
“I think I’ll do what I please with my down time.”
“I didn’t mean—” April frowned at him and raised a hand as though to swat him. “I know that. I just didn’t want to presume.”
“I’ll only offer what I can give you, April.” Samson stepped up to the door and held it for her before the doorman could grab it. “We will be in meetings for the most part. But don’t underestimate the social aspect of business. I’ll be meeting a few people for drinks later tonight. You’re welcome to join us for that, if you like.”
“I’m here to observe and um, consult, so whatever you need.” April walked into the lobby and her eyes went wide. She tilted her head back to look up at the vaulted ceilings and around at the marble sculptures. “But I can’t join in.”
“What do you mean? You’ll come, but you won’t talk?”
“I can’t drink.”
Samson approached the concierge’s desk. “Why not? AA?”
“Underage. I’m twenty.”
Samson stared at her for a moment. He had known that from her resume, but he hadn’t really thought about what that meant. April was a year younger than his baby sister. But Lana had been taking a glass of wine at special occasions since she’d turned sixteen.
“I can order for you,” Samson said finally. “It won’t be a problem.”
April chewed on her lower lip and waited behind him. Did this make her feel insecure, being on such an important business trip so young? Samson smiled at the concierge and picked up their keycards and then turned back to her.
“Remember that I have you here because I need your expertise. Don’t let anyone make you feel as though you don’t belong. Including me.”
April’s lips parted, and she nodded quietly. “I’m the best at that, actually. Making me feel like I don’t belong.”
“Old habits die hard.” Samson touched her shoulder lightly and guided her to the elevator. “To be honest, I used to have that habit as well. You learn to assess your own value and have confidence in it. You know already what you’re good at and what you need to learn, and that’s a good start. When I was your age…”
Samson raked his hand back through his hair and thought back on what he’d been like fresh out of college. “Well, I’ll just say, at twenty, I was not as capable of telling stubborn old men that they were wrong.”
“It bodes well for me that you consider my flaring temper a positive trait.” April looked up at him as the elevator doors closed.
“Just aim your flares away from me, if you please. I’m still smarting from the last one.”
With a stab of pleasure, he watched her giggle.
***
Samson took dinner and coffee in his suite while reviewing some paperwork. He hadn’t seen Ethan Crumb and Johnny Jones for a few years, and if he were honest, it had been too long. Since he began leveraging his real estate holdings into a larger conglomerate, Samson hadn’t had the time to lounge around on holiday with them. Now they owned their own little series of shops in several major metropolitan areas in the UK that were in severe need of a branding upgrade.
As he walked into the bar, he spotted one sandy head of hair and one dark, and a pair of empty martini glasses and came toward them with a smile and open arms. Ethan gave a little hop, and Samson lifted the petite man into his arms, causing Johnny to laugh deep and low.
“The giant came down from his cloud to see us, finally!” Johnny said.
“I’ll take it!” Ethan gestured toward the seats. “After you, Sir CEO, Mr. Important Person. You still drink? Scotch? Gin martini with a twist?”
“Scotch will be fine,” Samson managed to get out just before Ethan bounded off. “He’s got as much energy as ever, doesn’t he?”
“God, you’ve no idea, Sammy.” Johnny sprawled back into their booth. “Dunno how our little business would be still running if he weren’t like a bloody energy rabbit.”
“Energizer Bunny.”
Johnny waved him off. “Pfft.”
“I don’t know how you wouldn’t know that phrase. They have batteries in the UK.”
“They do. But you see, we got here an hour ago, darling.” Johnny wiggled his martini glass between two fingers.
“Here I come!” Johnny returned, juggling a glass of scotch and two more martinis.
“Tell the waitress to bring us something to eat, please. I’d like you two to still be capable of language by the time my associate gets here,” Samson said.
Ethan and Johnny fell against one another laughing helplessly. Samson rolled his eyes and went to get a menu.
Although neither man was near to sober, Samson enjoyed having the chance to simply talk with the two of them and catch up on their adventures. With their small business, they still got out and did new things. Samson found himself going out knowing exactly what would happen and how the people around him would react to each move. It made him wonder if that was why the day with April had been so enjoyable. They had explored, finding new and inspiring things together.
Samson took risks—business risks, calculated risks. However, in his personal life, he’d gotten comfortable. Maybe he needed to explore more. There was no risk in taking home some cute piece of ass whose face he probably wouldn’t see again and whose name he probably wouldn’t remember.
Johnny let out a low wolf whistle and sat up suddenly. “Good God, I think we’ve got a model in our midst, lads.”
Samson looked back to see April standing by the entrance of the bar as she scanned the seats looking for him. He could see what Johnny meant. She was wearing a perfectly-fitted emerald green drape dress, with the wrap gathered at the left side of her waist, emphasizing how petite she really was. It accentuated her body perfectly. But what really had Samson staring was her hair. It wasn’t pinned back in a librarian bun, or halfway up, or in pigtails. Her golden curls spilled down over her shoulders just as they had in his wildest fantasies.
“Over here, darling!” Ethan called. Johnny laughed as Samson gave them a stern look.
“Well, I suppose she could keep us company!” Johnny said.
“That is my employee,” Samson told them, warning laced through every word. If he wasn’t allowed to misbehave, they had better not.
Johnny and Ethan shared a glance and smiled as she came over. She walked slowly, and Samson realized that she was wearing heels rather than pumps. Lord, he would need strength to get through the night. He downed his scotch and made space for her at the table.
“How did we get so lucky!” Ethan was up to greet her before Samson had the chance to speak, but Ethan’s energy had seemed to put April at ease. She smiled warmly and introduced herself to both of them before sitting next to Samson.
“Is your business located here in Chicago?” April asked.
“Oh, no. We were just visiting the States and thought we could use some face time with our mate Sammy here,” Johnny said.
April’s eyes widened, and a wide smile crept across her face as she looked at Samson. “Sammy?”
“I am your boss.” Samson pointed at her. “You are not to call me that.”
“Aww, be a good sport!” Ethan said.
“I don’t need to.” April shrugged. “It just brightens my day to know that someone is out there calling you that.”
Samson sighed, irritated, but April seemed to be enjoying herself, so he let it pass. Ethan handed a martini to her, and soon the conversation sparked to life once again. At first, his two friends were determined to tell April their best stories involving Samson back in boarding school. However, April proved more skillful than Samson about redirecting the conversation back to business, and drew them into bragging about their shops and their vision for the company as a whole.
When she plucked a pen out of her purse and started doodling on a napkin, Samson was so proud he wanted to grab her into a hug… or maybe that was the scotch. She was holding her own, but he was beginning to wish that he hadn’t started drinking before she arrived.
Ethan pushed himself up abruptly and declared that he was going to go to their room and fetch his laptop. A moment later, Johnny laughed, said his partner had forgotten the keycard, and excused himself.
“You’re more useful tonight than I’d imagined,” Samson told her.
“They’re a handful. Maybe I should’ve encouraged them to tell me more embarrassing stories about your time as ‘schoolmates.’” April brushed her hair back, but the curls fell forward again.
“What do you think? Can we bring their disparate ideas together?”
“I think they’re going to need to cut a few things loose. But, you know. The problem is really that they jumped in without a business plan and put the capital in front of their strategy.” April swirled the olive in her drink. “If you really want to do this with them, you should devote a real meeting to it. With a real conference room, and a full team. I can help them with some design elements, but I’m no PR genius.”
“I am.”
“And modest,” she drawled, but with a smile.
Samson leaned his cheek on his fist. “Modesty has never been one of my strengths.”
“Admitting to a weakness? Your own ego?” April pulled the olive off with her teeth.
“I am human after all.”
“No? Not some towering god?”
“Don’t you mean ‘looming’?”
April sipped her martini. “Maybe. Be honest: you loom on purpose sometimes.”
“Oh, that’s absolutely true.”
April covered her mouth and shook hard with laughter. It hadn’t been that funny.
“How many of those have you had?”
“A few… and I may have made myself a Jack and Coke from the minibar.”
“Lord.” Samson moved April’s martini glass to the far side of the table.
“Nooo! We were having such a good time!”
“I would like you to continue to have a good time.”
“Oh, I would too!” April winked.
Samson pushed some water in front of her. “Enjoy this.”
April pouted, but drank the water. Samson wished she had been able to relax just by getting more comfortable with him, but things always changed after you got drunk with someone for the first time.
“Did you even eat dinner?” He reached for the appetizer tray and spread some orange fig preserves over a slice of baguette. “Here. Try this.”
April leaned forward, opened her lips, and closed her eyes. Samson felt himself growing hot as her teeth sunk into the bread. She chewed and licked her lips slowly. This little girl would be the end of him. Was it possible that she had turned into a sex kitten after just a few drinks? Or had she turned into a teasing little troll? That was far more likely.
“You’re doing this on purpose!” he accused.
“Yep.” April bounced in her seat and wiped the corner of her mouth.
Two could play at that game.
When Ethan and Johnny returned, Samson scooted closer to her, threw back another scotch, and began rubbing his toe against hers. Her cheeks pinked, but she was in the middle of looking at a series of storefronts that Johnny was showing her, and she managed to keep a straight face.
She returned the gesture without even looking up. He moved so close that their shoulders were touching. He could smell the sweet mix of her perfume and sweat. The tip of her shoe began trailing up his pant leg. In retaliation, Samson pushed her hair back out of her eyes, let his fingers linger, and then brushed over her cheek. Now she couldn’t help but look at him, and it seemed as though she couldn’t breathe.
Her rosy cheeks and shining eyes caused his heart to skip in his chest. Should he stop? Just because she was playing along now, keeping pace with his teasing, didn’t mean she wouldn’t be ice cold and uncomfortable in the morning. It would be too easy for him to make her feel like he was wielding his power over her unfairly. She might even leave. He couldn’t risk that.
Then, her long, dexterous fingers slipped between his thighs. They felt over the hardening lump there uncertainly. Samson’s breath caught in his throat and he stiffened all over.
Before he could react, April had excused herself and was gliding out of the bar and toward the elevator.