Chapter 12: Chapter 12
I'm so late!
Sam burst through the revolving doors into the lobby and made a beeline for the bank of elevators, her heels going clickety clack on the gleaming marble floor.
Inwardly, she cursed the New York metro system for her predicament. The train had been delayed a good thirty minutes before pulling into the station, only to be delayed again by a cut power line, halfway to Sam's stop. She’d had to exit the subway and hail a passing taxi, only to get stuck in traffic.
Her feet ached from walking the remaining four blocks, her hair had gone limp from the humidity and she was pretty sure there were damp spots in her pits.
She stepped into the elevator, ignoring the curious looks of the three people in there, who were no doubt, thinking she looked a mess. Her mood soured even more.
The first inkling of trouble was the sight of Jane waiting impatiently in the lobby of the P&D department, a look of sheer panic on her face. She pounced the minute Sam stepped off.
“Oh goodness! Thank God you're here.” The poor woman looked ready to weep in relief. “I called and left several messages on your cell phone, but you weren't answering.”
Unease pricked Sam's spine. Her phone had been in her purse, since the gods of misfortune had deemed it fit to cut off signal as well. “What's going on?”
Jane practically dragged her along as she talked in rapid fire speech. “Mr. Silverton Senior showed up unexpectedly this morning, wanting to speak with you and Ryan. He's been demanding your whereabouts for the past two hours.”
Sam felt her heart drop. Of all the damn days to be late. She noticed the usually lively work floor now resembled a funeral, everyone glued to their desks, head bent.
“What happened to you?” Jane finally noticed her appearance.
“Long story.” There was no time to freshen up, so she would have to meet her boss in her bedraggled state. “Where are they now?”
“Conference room.” Jane paused long enough to lower her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “It's like the cold war in there, Ryan and his dad have been circling each other like hawks, with the occasional barbed comment now and then. Lola's been playing mediator.”
Oh dear.
They reached the conference room and through the glass, Sam could see father and son seated at opposite ends of the long table, with Lola somewhere in between.
“Good luck!” Jane whispered, hanging back while Sam pushed open the door and stepped through.
“Good morning,” She kept her tone light, with a hint of apology.
The tension was so palpable, a knife could slice through it. Both men took a break from glaring at each other to pin identical looks of censure on her.
“So good of you to finally deem it fit to join us, Ms. Bhaat,” The ice in Bradford Silverton's voice could cause frostbite. He made a show of glancing at the expensive looking watch strapped to his wrist. “After over two hours of waiting. I hope this is not a habit?”
Sam looked towards Ryan, who remained silent, hard gaze sweeping over her body, mouth forming a tight line. He raised his eyes to her face, eyes hard as flint, but said nothing. Lola studied her in silence as well, a gleam of triumph in her eyes.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Silverton,” Sam turned her attention back to Bradford. She was careful not to sound too apologetic, not wanting to give off the wrong vibe. “There was a delay with the trains today. It won't happen again.”
“Are you sure about that?” Ryan finally spoke, his tone as hard as his face.
Sam took her time responding, setting her bag on the table and choosing a seat closer to Bradford, a subtle reminder to Ryan on who outranked whom in this room.
“I'm not sure I understand your question.” She replied finally, her tone cool.
“You seem certain today's event with the trains won't repeat itself.” He clarified, fingers tapping soundlessly on the glass surface. “So, my question is, how can you be a hundred percent sure the trains won't be delayed another day?”
Sam felt her temper flare, but forced it back under control. What the hell was his problem? Why had he reverted to acting like a jerk when for the past three days, he'd been civil, nice even.
Pasting a wintry smile on her face, she shrugged. “I will simply take measures to reduce the chances of being stuck waiting from happening. There are alternate means of transport, as you are well aware.”
His eyes flashed at her response and he raised an eyebrow in arrogant mockery. “Then maybe your answer to the initial question needs rephrasing.”
“If I had time to waste, yes.” She shot back, hackles up. “Not all of us have the luxury of time on our hands, or we wouldn't be here now, would we?.”
It was a dig at his previous lacklustre work habits and his eyes narrowed, face like thunder. “You -”
“Enough!” Bradford cut in, aiming a look at his son. “Ms. Bhaat, a town car will be placed at your disposal, to avoid future incidents.” He dismissed the matter with an imperious wave. “I want an update on what you have achieved since Monday. Make it quick, I have wasted enough time already.”
If Sam hadn't been glaring at Ryan, she would have missed his flinch at his father's words. As it was, he seemed to recoil for an instant, eyes darkening with some unidentifiable emotion, but he swiftly resumed his arrogant posture.
“Yes, Ms. Bhaat. Fill us in...again, since the boss doesn't believe a word I've said.” He sneered, body language deceptively uncaring.
“When you give me reason to take you seriously, then I will listen.” Bradford replied in a dismissive tone.
“Good thing I have no interest in kissing your ass.”
If felt highly awkward to sit there, listening to father and son engage in a verbal spat. She tried to catch Lola's eye, but the assistant refused to look her way.
Sam suppressed a sigh and sat straighter, quickly giving Bradford a rundown of her week and her discovery.
“We hope to start the appraisals by next week,” she finished, tucking strands of limp hair behind her ears. She kept her gaze resolutely fixed on Bradford, though every nerve was conscious of Ryan's gaze on her.
Bradford nodded, and appeared deep in thought. “So, in your opinion, how much time do you need to pull this department back together?”
“Things are not as bad as I thought at first,” Sam replied, choosing her words carefully. “But, if I should hazard a guess, I'd say about four to six months.”
Ryan snorted, “Very diplomatic, Ms. Bhaat.”
She glared at him and he responded with an irreverent grin, which only served to infuriate her further.
Bradford ignored his son. “Very well, I expect you to have things running smoothly. Which brings me to the reason for coming here. The Caine's Hotel and Resort.”
Ryan sat up straight, every nerve ending tense as he stared at his father. “I told you, I'm working on it.”
“Yes, but I want to bring Ms. Bhaat in on it as well. You're still in charge of getting him back on board, but she needs to be involved in the process.”
Sam braced for the incoming explosion. Ryan's hands tightened into fists, the knuckles white and his jaw muscles worked furiously. In the seconds that ticked by in silence, it seemed even the air held its breath in anticipation.
Then, he seemed to relax, even summoned a grin, that didn't quite reach his eyes.
“Hear that, Sam? You're my babysitter now.” his joke sounded forced, knuckles still white though the grin remained in place.
Sam remained silent, not knowing what to say. A part of her felt pity, but part of her still simmered with the remains of irritation.
Bradford rose and bid them good day, striding out of the room. A tense silence fell over the remaining occupants, until Ryan stood, adjusting the lapels of his jacket. “Well, this has been fun, hasn't it Sam?”
Not fun. Not for her, or him for that matter. Determined, she rose as well. “We need to talk.”
“Can't, sorry I have a meeting in…” he consulted his watch and raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Look at that, I'm already running late, no thanks to you, Princess.”
His gaze raked over her once more then he strode out the door.
Oh no, you don’t!
She hurried after him, cursing her aching feet which were unable to keep up with his quick strides. Luckily, she caught up with him just as he stepped into an empty elevator, breath coming in short pants.
“What...the...hell is...wrong with you today?” She demanded, hands on hips as she glared at him.
He ignored her, pushing the button for Parking and leaned against the opposite wall, hands jammed in pockets, studying her with an insolent look.
His attitude set her teeth grinding. “Why did you have to act like a jerk in there?”
“Act? That wasn't an act, Princess.” He finally deigned to reply. “That's who I am.”
“No, it's not.” She took a step closer, pinning him with the force of her glare. “That's the side you show when you're pissed off at someone and as far as I know, we've been good for the past couple days. So, what made you act like that with me?”
He laughed, the sound mocking and cruel and totally unlike the man she'd come to know. Granted she'd only know him less than a week, but gone was the easygoing man, who apologized for being an ass and who had almost kissed her on Tuesday.
The memory suddenly made her all too aware of how close they stood, just the two of them.
From the way his eyes deepened to a stormy gray, he was just as aware of their proximity to each other.
“Maybe I'm just good at pretending to be a sweet, sensitive little boy.” His voice lowered an octave that sent a thrill running through Sam, the atmosphere suddenly shifting from tense to heated.
“I don't believe you.” The words came out a whisper, lust having turned her entire systems to mush.
“Then believe this.” His arm shot out, pushing the emergency button on the panel, bringing the elevator to a halt, while his other arm captured her waist and drew her into his heat, deftly turning her so her back was pressed against the wall. Before Sam could draw breath, Ryan kissed her.