“You live in the shed behind your parent’s house?” the girl asked.
“Well not live…well, actually…” I shrugged as we made our way through the backyard in the dark. “I’m saving up my money and working to build my company, so the shed sort of serves as an economical way to have a private office.”
“Very ambitious,” she said, glancing around the interior with amusement. The room was a mess of papers, food wrappers, and a disheveled futon, but most of the time it served as home. A flashlight stood up on the ground as a makeshift lamp, giving the whole space a soft golden light. “Now,” she said, walking up to me slowly. “Where were we again?”
I smiled as I caught her against the wall and slid my hand around her waist. “As if I could forget,” I whispered, and she moaned as my mouth found her neck. I kissed her as we moved our hands across each other’s bodies in a maddening frenzy. I needed more of her, all of her, and I felt her breathing hitch as I suddenly began to stroke her from underneath the hem of her skirt.
“Johnathan,” she pleaded. “The bed…please.”
We tumbled onto the futon without even bothering to move aside the papers spread across it. I groaned in anticipation as I felt her hands undo my zipper, and I tossed her discarded skirt off of the bed. Suddenly we were both naked, and the curves of her body were illuminated by the lamplight, all shades of golden shadows like a long-forgotten painting. I moved on top of her and kissed her, almost in reverence, and tangled my hands wildly through the dark strands of brown hair that were splayed out on the pillow. Soon I was inside her, we were moving together, and she was letting out gorgeous sighs that echoed off the walls. I buried my head in her neck, immersed in her and the pleasure, when I suddenly looked down at her and she met my eyes…
I didn’t register who the woman really was until that moment—she had been a diaphanous fog of legs and moans and skin when I stared directly into her eyes and—
“Samantha?”
“Look, I know jetlag is a thing and all, but sleeping in two hours? Come on, man.”
I awoke with a shock to see Kirk standing over me looking incredibly pissed…and incredibly confused. Hell, I was incredibly confused.
“How the hell did you get in?” I asked, suddenly conscious of the fact that I was sweating bullets and had a massive case of morning wood going on underneath my sheets.
Kirk gave me his classic teacher look again. “You didn’t lock the doors, genius,” he laughed. “You’re a rich dude, and the right burglar could have made a killing last night.”
“Yeah,” I said, still processing the images running through my mind, and then I noticed Kirk was staring at me with genuine concern.
“You alright?” Kirk asked, setting down his coffee. “You have a nightmare or something?”
“Um.”
“Something hot?”
I felt myself blush for the first time in ages, and ran my hand over my morning stubble. “Something sort of in the middle.”
Kirk cackled. “Kinky.”
I looked at the clock. I really had slept in two hours and figured I must have forgotten to set my alarm in the haze of last night’s jetlag.
“You got ten minutes, and then we’re heading back to the office,” Kirk said, and I groaned. He shut the door to my bedroom and went to go wait in the kitchen while I dug through my closet for a clean shirt. I rested my head against the wall for a minute. Of all the people I could have had a sex dream about, Samantha was an odd choice. You’d think after Amy’s rather brazen behavior yesterday that she would have been more likely to make a surprise appearance, but Samantha? The same Samantha who was hell-bent on making the acquisition of her company as difficult as possible? I shivered as the last moments of the dream circled back through my mind—this dream was no vague morning recollection, but one saturated with color and detail, and one that was insistent on staying put firmly in my memory. But seriously, I thought, putting on my tie…what the hell?
I looked at my slightly disheveled appearance in the mirror and decided it would have to do.
Kirk looked visibly annoyed as we got into the car, and I made a mental note to treat him to dinner to make up for the fact that he had to come and wake me up for work…again. Maybe that Korean place Samantha was talking about…
Samantha. She would be at the office today, fully armed and ready to fight. Christ.
An uncomfortable silence had settled into Kirk’s Jaguar as we sped down the highway. He adjusted his glasses and attempted some small talk. “So,” he sighed. “There might be a blizzard coming in a couple weeks. Insane, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, and continued to stare out at the trees absentmindedly.
“Okay, as your best friend, I really have to ask, Johnathan, sorry, but—”
“The dream?”
Kirk smiled. “Ohhh this is gonna be good.”
I bashfully sunk into my seat. “Well,” I said. “It was a sex dream.”
“Mm-hmm,” Kirk said, raising his eyebrows and urging me to continue. “And?”
“Well, back when the Torver Group was starting out, remember how I basically lived in that shed behind my parent’s place? And that’s where I would bring girls to…” I sighed. “So, in the dream, I was living back there, and I brought a girl back, and—”
“Get to the point, Torver.”
“It was Samantha Doyle.”
Kirk’s face morphed into a bizarre combination of joy and shock as he suddenly slapped both his hands down on the steering wheel. “No,” he said cackling. “Nah man, that is too good! Samantha Doyle! You didn’t!” He was laughing so hard that I was getting concerned about him still being able to operate the car. “Oh my god, you had sex with Samantha Doyle. Damn!”
He kept laughing.
“Let me remind you,” I told Kirk. “That this was completely the work of my subconscious mind and that I had absolutely nothing to do with it, okay?”
Kirk grinned. “So, was it good?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Aw please, even in dream sex you can tell how good it is.”
I looked away from Kirk and shrugged. “It was actually…it was actually pretty good. Really good.” I admitted, and judging by the look on Kirk’s face you would have sworn he’d just won the lottery.
“I knew there was chemistry between you two.”
I scoffed. “We only just got past hating each other, Kirk, I don’t think so.”
Kirk only smiled and shook his head. “The science of chemistry is made up of all kinds of reactions, and maybe some of them don’t start out perfect, but they get there.” He smiled. “Maybe you and Samantha are an element all your own.”
“I’m about five seconds away from punching you in the face, you cheesy bastard.”
Kirk just cracked up even more as we drove into the parking lot. “And as you can see, I don’t really care.”
I swallowed hard as we took the elevator up to the office. Today was a big negotiations day with Wordsworth, which meant I would have to spend an endless day shut in the conference room with Samantha. Of all days. Kirk simply stared up at the screen flashing the numbers of the floors we were ascending with a massive grin on his face.
I rested my head in my hand and sighed, already counting down the hours until I could go back home. “Why do I get the terrible feeling you’re going to enjoy this way too much?”
Kirk laughed. “I’m already enjoying this.”
I walked into the office to find Sabryna already setting up the pastries and coffee in the conference room.
“Only glazed doughnuts this time,” she said, and I cringed as she winked at me.
“When are the Wordsworth people getting here?”
Sabryna smiled as she arranged the coffee cups. “Any minute now.”
I sighed and took my place at the head of the table. An article I had read about meditation in the workplace last week came to mind, so I decided to take some deep breaths for a few minutes and try to clear my mind before anyone else showed up. I had to focus. I had to clear my mind completely of last night, and that stupid, ridiculous dream. These negotiations were no joke, and I couldn’t let some stupid, dirty fantasy I’d had about the CEO of the company we were in the process of acquiring get in the way of that. I wasn’t that kind of guy. Work and romance were strictly separate areas, I reminded myself, shutting my eyes and inhaling as slowly as I could…and they would need to stay that way. Breathe, Johnathan…just relax and breathe.
“Asleep already?”
I practically jumped as I opened my eyes to the sight of Samantha Doyle standing next to me. I could feel myself blushing deeply as she pulled out the chair next to me to take a seat. “Are you okay, Johnathan? You look a bit…” she bit her lip and repressed a smile. “…frazzled.”
“I just um…” I shook my head as I tried to sit up straighter in my chair. “Didn’t get much sleep…the neighbor’s dog was barking…yeah.”
Samantha was staring at me with a look that seemed to be part victory and part amusement. “Drink your coffee,” she said, and began to pour me a large cup from the carafe placed at the center of the table. Of course, today of all days she had decided to wear her hair down, fastening it at the back of her head with a topaz-encrusted barrette that brought out the golden flecks in her warm brown eyes. She wore a light navy blazer with a white blouse underneath that dipped dangerously low for a work setting. My mind was already flipping back to the sight of what I had supposedly thought she would look like spread out naked on my mattress.
I would have given up my stupid boat to get her to wear a turtleneck, or a chicken costume, or literally anything else for the course of this ridiculous freaking meeting.
I had barely registered that Amy had walked in, wearing a tiny black dress that contrasted against her light blonde hair. She gave me a quick smile and then seated herself next to Samantha. Why wasn’t she the one distracting me? Amy was hot and uncomplicated and would jump into bed with me without a second thought. Life would be so much easier if you could only like the right people…not that I liked Samantha like that, per se, but—
Samantha was the one who had kept me up all night.
Cassidy came in and very predictably took a seat next to Amy, who looked like she wasn’t even prepared to give him the time of day. He was followed by Kirk, who decided on the front row seat to the drama next to me and across from Samantha. The rest of our employees and Wordsworth’s employees filed in afterward and took their seats. One of the things you never quite get used to as a CEO is the feeling of sitting at a table first thing in the morning and having a dozen people staring at you waiting for directions, or guidance, or inspiration. But the truth is at eight a.m. I’m as unprepared to inspire as anyone else in the world is.
“Good morning everyone,” I said, looking down the table with the most optimistic and determined look I could muster. “First, I would like to thank Kirk and our team of lawyers here, as well as the phenomenal legal team at the Wordsworth Company, for their endless hard work these past few months.” I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the end of the table instead of on Samantha, who I could see looking up at me from the corner of my eye. “These legal documents,” I said, motioning to a pile of papers in front of Kirk. “…Mark the beginning of what I hope will be a legendary collaboration.” The room sprung into polite applause as I turned towards Samantha. “Any thoughts?”
Samantha smiled down the table. “I know this has been a period of adjustment for everyone, and I want to thank you for your flexibility during this difficult time.” I winced. It sounded like she was opening a funeral. “And I know you know that I am doing my very best to ensure you all have a place here at the Torver Group.” I groaned. She was already making me the villain.
I was surprised to see Samantha smile down at me for a second with genuine appreciation. “And of course, Johnathan here has been incredibly helpful and generous in our negotiations so far.” The table broke out into soft applause again. Shit, I thought. I hadn’t exactly been generous yet.
Cassidy took over the meeting from that point, laying out his plans and charts for how our current and future clients would be delegated out to the Wordsworth employees. I grimaced. This was bad. Samantha giving this kind of impression to her employees, one that signified that things would only be getting better for them, was going to pose a problem. Now when I crushed them, it would even worse. She had framed me as the villain, and after that, there was no going back.
I droned out Cassidy’s voice as I looked over towards Samantha. She looked calm and confident, strong but without the belligerence she had possessed before we had solidified our supposed friendship. I watched as she listened intently, caressing the skin of her neck as she brushed her hair back behind her ear. My mind flashed back to the image of me kissing her neck up against the wall and I shifted in my seat. Then I tried very hard to listen to Cassidy.
The meeting was endless, but the sense of optimism that Samantha had instilled in her employees was worse. I should have known that she would take my promise to consider finding an alternative solution to laying off her employees a bit too far. Just kidding, the worst part of the meeting by far was Kirk, who was engrossed in watching me try to avoid looking over towards Samantha and failing miserably at it. If he had a bag of popcorn stashed underneath his desk, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
“…And that’s about it.” Cassidy said, closing his laptop. “Any questions?” The room fell silent, and he turned to me.
“Okay,” I said. “We’ll break for lunch and then meet back here at one to discuss this further.” The table let out a collective sigh of relief as I watched them file out the door, headed for the long line at Chipotle or to meet a date at a cheap sandwich joint. I wish I could be that relaxed right now.
I held up my hand as I saw Samantha start to move her seat back. “Um…Samantha? A word?” I said nervously.
“Of course,” Samantha said, feigning a smile, and I think she knew what was coming.
“Was that really necessary?” I said, avoiding eye contact with her as much as possible. “I mean, when I told you I would consider finding a way for you to keep your employees, it wasn’t a guarantee. I don’t want you getting people’s hopes up.”
Samantha smiled. “Isn’t hope better for them right now?”
I sighed with exasperation. “Yeah, but now if, I mean, when, I probably lay them off, it’s going to come as a complete shock. And now I’m the one who is going to get blamed for it when it’s your fault. You let your company go bankrupt. You’re the one who offered them false promises, Samantha. And now I’m the one who they’re going to come after with pitchforks.” I frowned and looked down at the table. “Why did you have to sacrifice me like that?” I said, my voice bordering on anger. “I mean, I thought after the other day we had made peace with each other. We made a connection! This was supposed to work!”
Samantha just looked at me smugly and smiled. “Funny you should say that,” she said. “One of Seattle’s top CEOs told me that business isn’t about making connections.” She stood up and leaned over me.
“…it’s about winning,” she whispered.
***
I slammed the door behind me and sighed. I simply didn’t know how to handle the Samantha situation anymore. The woman was infuriating. She was a dangerous opponent and would destroy me if I ever got stupid enough to let my guard down. I paced around the room as I loosened my tie. I needed an evening to myself to unwind. I unpacked the Whole Foods bag on the counter and threw the bag of flour down on the kitchen island. I pulled the pasta maker out of the cabinet and cracked my knuckles. Once I got into pasta-making mode, there was no stopping me.
I poured myself a glass of my favorite Riesling and put my favorite jazz playlist on my phone. I took the little Johnathan time that I got to myself very seriously. And not to brag, but I’ve always been a bit of a chef. I had gotten the pasta maker as a gift from my parents when I was younger, where it had sat untouched in my closet for about five years. But ever since I had gotten it out of storage a couple of years ago, I’d been addicted. I had mastered everything from basil-infused tortellini to lasagna with mozzarella and pesto.
I swept across the kitchen, pulling plastic spice jars and measuring cups from the cabinets. The afternoon faded into an evening sunset out the window as I began to mix the dough with my hands. Samantha. Who gave her the right to speak to me like that? Without my help, she would have been bankrupt and her company a forgotten piece of history. I punched the dough with my fist. This could have been so easy. The Wordsworth acquisition was supposed to get us new clients, not new problems. Samantha was supposed to do as she was told and be grateful that we rescued her. But she was always so….so….
The dough had gotten everywhere. But, I mean, god that woman was a pain sometimes. Even when I wasn’t at work, at times like this when I was trying my best to relax, she would permeate my thoughts with an aggressive persistence. Samantha, Samantha, Samantha. Always making me work for things I already had, making me question things I took for granted. She had to be one of the most formidable opponents I had ever had. Not necessarily in terms of money, or status, but something else. When other people challenged me, they saw me as Johnathan Torver: wealthy businessman with an empire at his feet. But when Samantha challenged me, she saw through it all. To her, I was just Johnathan, just another guy. She saw me. She looked past the façade I put up for everyone else and she saw me.
But why did that bother me so damn much?
I began to ease the dough into the pasta maker and took a sip of wine. Since I had met Samantha that day, things had been different. My life wasn’t just a procession of work days, days where I read the financial papers and handed out orders to employees who never thought to be anything other than obedient. Now, showing up to the office was a challenge and an adventure. I craved it. The sad truth was, I realized, once you reach a certain point of success, the fighting spirit that got you there fades with disuse. When Samantha looked at me with the spark of war in her eyes, it lit up again. I sat down on one of my kitchen stools and stared out the window.
I didn’t know how the rest of the acquisition would go. I didn’t know what would happen when I laid off most of the Wordsworth employees. But what I did know was this: I was feeling more alive these days than I had in a very long time.