Chapter 16

SAM

MORNING CAME way too soon. I showered and made coffee then sat at the breakfast bar to look over the stock market and scan the headlines of the daily news for the latest on Maxwell. Dakota raced around the apartment, searching for the left shoe of her favorite pair of pumps while I tried not to laugh.

“It’s not funny.” With an outstretched arm, she pointed the toe of her right shoe at me.

“Maybe if you didn’t throw your crap all over the apartment when you got home, you wouldn’t have this problem,” I observed.

“You did not just go there.” She got down on hands and knees to search beneath the couch, offering me a prime view of her rump. I whistled in appreciation. A few seconds later, she came up for air and scowled at me.

“Just think, you won’t have this problem in our new house. You’ll have a closet fit for a queen.” I left my seat to cross the room and take her into my arms.

“You mean I’ll have twice as much to clean.” The tip of her nose nestled into the hollow of my throat.

“No, you won’t. Because we’re going to hire a housekeeper.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, enjoying the clean, fresh scent of her shampoo.

“When do I have time to shop for a housekeeper?” She pushed away. With a hand on my chest, she balanced on first one foot then the other to put on her shoes. “We still need a Human Resources director and a computer tech at the office. And that’s just the beginning.”

“I’ve already hired someone.”

“What? Seriously?” She paused, cocking her head to the side in surprise.

“Yes. Mrs. Pittman. She was my housekeeper before we got married. I heard through the grapevine that she was available again, and I gave her a call.”

“You did that?” Dakota placed both hands on her hips and arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Without asking me?”

“Okay. Xavier gave her a call.” I shrugged. “Same difference.” I’d come to consider Xavier an extension of myself. “She can help you start up the new house.”

“How’s come I never met her?” She moved to the bathroom, closing the door only halfway. The tinkle of running water filled the air.

“Because she’s good at her job. A good housekeeper is undetectable,” I replied, quoting my mother. “They’re around when you need them, invisible when you don’t.”

I waited for a response but heard only silence. Thinking she was busy, I went back to the kitchen to refresh our coffee. The hands on the microwave clock showed six-thirty.

“Are you about ready? We need to get going.” Silence. “Dakota?” She came out of the bathroom, mouth twisted into a frown. Two lines creased her forehead. “What is it?”

“Um, I’m spotting a little,” she said.

“What’s that mean?” My heart rate accelerated. I grabbed her hand. “I’ll call the doctor.”

“No. It’s fine. I mean, the doctor said it wasn’t unusual.” She managed a smile and ran a soothing hand down my sleeve. “She said it might happen after sex and to just keep an eye on it.”

“It’s happened before?” When she didn’t answer, I gripped her chin in the palm of my hand and forced her to look at me. “Dakota.”

“A little bit last week, but nothing major. It’s fine. Really.”

“Jesus.” I swiped a hand over my face and sank into the nearest chair. “Did I hurt you last night?” A frisson of guilt gripped my guts. I’d tried to be gentle, but desire had overcome my common sense, and I’d ended up mounting her like a horny stallion.

“Calm down.” Her laughter brought a flush of heat to my face. When I didn’t smile, her voice gentled. “Sam, I’m fine. I’ve got another appointment tomorrow, just to be sure.”

“Alright.” I searched her eyes for reassurance. She patted my cheek then lifted on tiptoe to press a light kiss on my lips.

“Stop worrying.”

“It’s my job to worry about you.” I was supposed to fly out to Tokyo the next day. “I’ll cancel my meetings and go with you.”

“No.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “There’s no reason. You need to go to this meeting. Takashima isn’t going to understand if you cancel on him. We just need to get through these next few weeks, and then you’ll be able to come to all my appointments, right? I’ll let you know if there’s anything to be concerned about.”

In the car, I kept her close to my side, oblivious to Rockwell and Chandler in the front seat. I scrolled through emails on my phone while she stared out the window. We rode in silence for a few miles. Not an awkward silence, but the comfortable quiet that came with familiarity. On the horizon, morning sunlight glinted off the twin spires of the Seaforth Towers. The architectural monstrosities caught Dakota’s gaze at the same time as mine.

“You never did tell me about the FBI. What’s the deal there?” she asked.

With so much going on in our own lives, I’d failed to bring her up to speed. We had enough to worry about without Maxwell’s problems in the mix. The media frenzy had lessened but hadn’t disappeared entirely. The quiet surface didn’t fool me. Like the ocean, in the business world, the most dangerous sharks often swam below the surface in still waters. I thought back to the conversation with my father.

“He says he’s innocent, that it’s all a misunderstanding.” I rested my phone on my thigh, giving her my full attention. “They say he’s willfully avoided paying taxes by sheltering money in offshore accounts.”

“That’s no surprise.”

“Vanessa’s worried. She’s afraid he’ll lose everything.” I threaded my fingers through hers, enjoying the glide of her smooth palm against my rough one.

“Vanessa called, and you didn’t tell me?” She squeezed my hand in reproach. “Things must be serious if she’s reaching out.”

“I hate to admit it, but she’s got a point. My family has worked really hard to build this fortune. And it’s not just about me. We’ve got kids to think about now. There should be something left for them.”

“But it’s a corporation, and it’s his personal assets at stake, right? Seaforth Industries has shareholders. They can just appoint a new CEO.”

“There’s been a Seaforth at the helm of Seaforth Industries since the very beginning. With the stock values plummeting, the entire business is ripe for a takeover. And we both know how that can go. Someone bloodthirsty moves in—”

She smiled and bumped her shoulder into mine. “You mean, someone like you?”

I smiled back at her. “Yes, someone like me. They grab the majority shares, dismantle the company, and Seaforth Industries evaporates into the ether.”

“But they can’t do that, can they? I mean, your dad holds the majority stock, right?”

“He owns twenty-six percent and holds the proxy voting rights to another twenty-five percent. But that can all change in a heartbeat.” The reality of the situation preyed heavily on my subconscious. 

“Who are the other major shareholders?” Her gentle touch slid along the length of my tie, smoothing and straightening the length of blue silk.

“I’ve got fifteen percent.”

“I didn’t know that. Does someone have your proxy votes?”

Her question set my thoughts into motion. “Yes.”

“Are they revocable? Can you take them back?”

“I can. But fifteen percent isn’t enough to make a majority vote.”

“Maybe not, but you’re a persuasive guy. I bet you could turn that fifteen into twice that if you put your mind to it.”

“Are you suggesting I take over my own father?” I lifted an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the saucy wench.” I lifted her hand to my lips and kissed her knuckles. She smiled at me, reminding me of all the reasons I loved her. No one understood me the way she did. And no matter how badly I fucked up, she always had my back. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

“No.” She bit her lower lip in one of my favorite gestures.

“Well, I do.” Sunshine puddled on the floor of the car. My heart stuttered when she leaned forward and dropped a kiss on my cheek.