“I don’t care what your intentions are. Stop. Trying. To. Help. Him.”
“I’m not sure you remember who you’re talking to.”
April narrowed her eyes. “I think the problem is that I never realized who I was talking to until tonight.” She twisted away from Donald, not wanting to hear any more of his double meanings and ambiguity anymore. But when she got back to the bar, Sam was nowhere around.
After doing a quick circle of the ballroom, there was still no sign of him. But one person stood out like a sore thumb. Well, a sore thumb that looked as if it belonged on the cover of a magazine.
April tried to keep her face expressionless as she approached Oksana. Sure the woman drove her crazy, but there was no reason she needed to know that. “Have you seen Sam?”
Oksana looked down to April and blinked a few times as though the idea of them conversing was beyond her comprehension. “He’s in the back.”
“The back?”
Oksana pursed her lips together and looked April up and down. As though she suddenly decided April was worthy, she motioned with a subtle crook of her head for April to follow her.
April was tempted to just walk away, but decided to put her petty feelings aside. What was a few minutes talking with a witch?
“What’s the back?” she asked again.
“Sam seemed very upset,” said Oksana once they were in a relatively private nook of the ballroom.
“Sam’s always upset around me. I’ve grown rather used to it.”
Oksana chuckled. “He likes you, you know.”
April rolled her eyes. “I don’t have time for your insane jealousy.”
The chuckle turned into an all-out laugh. “Jealous? Sam and I aren’t together.”
April’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Then why warn me away if you don’t want him for yourself?”
“Business is a cold and passionless battlefield. There is no room for someone like you,” she said with a smile.
“You worded that insult like a compliment.”
“I just want you to know that you cloud his head. He can’t think clearly when you’re around. If you’re not careful, you could be his biggest weakness.”
April looked Oksana up and down. They were so different: Oksana, a cool and collected ice queen. Solely focused on her career and playing the game. Whereas April was….
Solely focused on her career and playing the game.
As the parallel became clear, April took a step back. “Where’s Sam?” she whispered.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“I don’t like you dodging the question.”
Oksana smirked. “Touché. At any gathering like this, there’s always some boys club that forms. They drink, smoke, and do other various things they don’t want us delicate flowers to see. It’s positively medieval, but they all love it.”
“Sam loves it?” There’d been a time she would’ve believed Sam would gamble and drink the night away, but that was years ago. He’d changed, hadn’t he?
“Not normally. I’ve actually never seen him go to the back before tonight. At every other event we’ve been to, he’s been the perfect gentleman. Until we go to the one party you’re at.”
A cold chill snaked down April’s spine. Was this really her fault? She’d known that Donald was planning something and that by coming she’d be playing right into his hands. But she’d been so convinced she could stop whatever was going to happen.
“Just show me where he is,” she said quietly.
Oksana pursed her lips and sighed. “I told you, this isn’t about making you feel bad. It’s about making you realize that Sam’s too invested in you. But I’ll take you to him.”
April followed Oksana and considered her words. Sam had never seemed too concerned about April before. Did Oksana actually have a point, or was she imagining all of this?
Right as they reached the edge of the room, right next to one of the doors that led out of the ballroom, Oksana stopped.
“What are we doing?” asked April.
“Well, I don’t exactly know where the room is. I just know how to get there.” Her eyes skimmed the dance floor before they locked onto one man shimmying between moving couples. “There. Once you find someone who looks much too excited to leave and guilty at the same time, you’re in. We have to keep on him until he goes to the room.”
April frowned. “We can’t ask?”
“Please. Unless you lose the breasts and grow a certain appendage between your legs, no one will tell you anything.”
“Sounds like a charming bunch.”
“As charming as a bunch of drunk and bitchy men can be.” The man Oksana was focused on slipped out of one of the doors across the room, and Oksana stepped into the hallway.
April let out a breath of frustration before she crossed into the hall and tried to catch up with her. “Won’t he notice the supermodel following him?” whispered April.
“Sure, normally. But look at his walk. He’s already had a few. Not exactly the smoothest operator, you know?”
April craned her neck to get a better view. She hadn’t noticed anything off with the man, but now that she looked for it, she saw the slight uneven tinge to his walk. “You’re good at reading people, aren’t you?”
Oksana halted and turned to April. “You don’t get famous for being pretty. There are millions of pretty women in the world. Sam, his father, and everyone in that room back there know the true key to success is finding the right people to use.”
“And you were using Sam?”
A corner of Oksana’s full lips tilted up. “We were using each other. There’s no reason your aspirations can’t be mutually beneficial.”
“That sounds very superficial.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She glanced down the hall as the man slipped into one of the nondescript doors. “There it is,” she whispered.
They both crossed to stand in front of the door and stared down at the lock.
“How do we get in?” asked April.
“This is where I’m lost. We could knock,” suggested Oksana.
“And intrude on the top secret boys meeting? That would be rude.” April curled her fingers into a fist and pounded as hard as she could on the door.
“Who is it?” shouted a voice from the other side.
April opened her mouth, and closed it. Should she lie? Would they open the door if she said who she was and they realized she didn’t matter?
“It’s Oksana Peta and April Morgan. We’re looking for Sam Hunt.”
Or I’ll let Oksana do the talking…
“He’s not here,” said the gruff voice from behind the door.
Oksana gave April a look, and, for the first time, April had the impression that Oksana didn’t know where to go from there.
Luckily, she had a few ideas. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m going to pull the nearest fire alarm and ruin the party for everyone.”
There was a pause as Oksana and April waited for a response. The seconds stretched on as hushed mumbles sounded from behind the door. “You’re bluffing.”
“If that’s what you think,” shouted April. Her eyes roamed over the walls before stopping over the telltale red, metal lever. Her fingers barely grazed the cold handle before the door was shoved open.
“You crazy bitch,” said the man she’d never met before. “Fine, take Hunt. But he’d better understand that this is your fault and not ours.” He disappeared behind a corner of the room and April moved to stand next to Oksana. She got the impression she was supposed to wait for him to bring Sam to her.
“Were you bluffing?” asked Oksana.
April took a deep breath. “If it would’ve gotten Sam out of there, I have no problems ruining a party or two.”
“So there’s a reason I’ve never seen him drink?”
April tightened her lips. This was a secret Sam kept close, and she was one of the only people who knew. “I don’t like him drin
king,” she said. But the damage had already been done. Considering what she’d learned about Oksana’s extensive knowledge of human nature, she’d already picked up way too much.
And there he was. Two rather imposing looking men led Sam out of the room, but he didn’t seem happy about it.
“Get your fucking hands off me. I said I wasn’t ready to leave.” He pulled his arms out of their grasp and tried to turn around. Of course, this only led to them grabbing him again.
“Sam, it’s time to go home.” She kept her tone calm and serene. It had been years since she’d had to face a drunken Sam, but she still remembered the basics. Everything good about him faded away and in his place was a belligerent, ignorant, snide, immature man-child.
His head jerked at her voice; his blue, bloodshot eyes connected with hers. “I thought you’d be back in the presidential suite by now.”
Yep. This was the Sam she knew and hated. She ignored his baiting words and focused on taming the wild beast. “Why don’t we go up to your room?”
With a quick shove, the men pushed Sam into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him. After a few stumbling steps, he regained his composure. “So now you want to take me to bed? Was the old man not enough for you?”
April wrapped an arm around his waist and sent up a tiny prayer of thanks when he didn’t fight her touch. As determined as she was, if he physically refused to go with her, she didn’t stand much of a chance.
“There’s an elevator that way.” Oksana pointed in the opposite direction of the ballroom. “It will be more discreet that way. He’s in room 3014.”
“You’re not coming with?”
Oksana’s gaze shifted between Sam and April. “I think I was always the third wheel here.” She sauntered past them and headed back toward the party.
“Thanks.” April awkwardly leaned against Sam while she looked over her shoulder.
Oksana glanced back. “I like Sam. I only want the best for him.” Then she continued on her way.
“Since when did you two not want to kill each other?”
“Since when did you start drinking again?” shot back April as she shuffled along awkwardly with him toward the elevator. When the frustration of balancing on heels and holding his weight became too much, she snapped. “Would you walk your lazy ass by yourself? I know you’re not that drunk.”
He scoffed and leaned in closer. “Maybe I want an excuse to touch you,” he whispered as his hand around her waist slipped lower, grazed over the delicate fabric and squeezed her rear.
April squeaked in surprise and jerked away from him. Just like she expected, he was perfectly capable of standing on his own. Well, he’d sure as hell never done that before when he was drunk.
But she knew better than to yell at him when he was in this state. Instead, she rolled her eyes and grabbed onto his white shirt sleeve, pulling him closer to the elevator.
He followed, his wide grin telling her that he enjoyed her frustration.
“Where did you lose your jacket?” She hit the up button. The doors opened immediately and she pulled him inside.
“I can never ride an elevator with you the same way again,” he said.
She was about to tell him off when she saw his hungry gaze roam over her body. Her breath caught in her throat and suddenly every nerve seemed to be on high alert. She became hyper aware of the cleavage bared by the V neck of the dress and just how thin the material was. As though he could see right through the thin silk.
“Sam, I—” The elevator doors slid open, and the distraction gave her a moment to catch her breath. “Let’s get you back to your room,” she muttered as she practically jumped out of the small vestibule.
“You never used to be this jumpy,” he grumbled as he stepped out and staggered toward his room.
“I was always like this. You just never noticed before.”
He grunted in response and stopped in front of his door. “Well, you got me here. Yelled at me in front of some very important people and abandoned me for my father. Now what are you going to do to punish me?”
Her eyes drifted closed as she tried to center herself. This wasn’t normal Sam. This was drunk Sam. She would hold back her scolding and yelling until he was normal Sam. At least he would have the decency to feel guilty.
“Go inside,” she said weakly.
“Do you have the key?”
That was it. “What do you mean you don’t have the key? You didn’t think to mention that when we were still on the ground level?”
He took a step back. A small grin formed on his face. “I didn’t say I didn’t have a key.”
Oh, God. He was fucking with her. Son of a bitch. “Get into the room, Sam. I can’t deal with you any more tonight.”
“I can be nicer if you want.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “Much nicer.” Her glare must’ve been answer enough because he started to fish around his pockets and pulled out the room key.
April snatched the key out of his hand and opened the door herself. After a few steps inside a hotel suite bigger than her apartment, she held open the door and pointed to the bed. “Go. I want you to pass out and sleep this off so I can yell at you tomorrow.”
He moved inside, but didn’t go to the bed. Instead, he moved to stand in front of April, one hand flat on the wall and one on the door, which was still wide open and effectively caged her in. “What do you say? You and me…” His eyes drifted to the bed, leaving no room for misunderstandings. “A guy doesn’t get many chances to sleep with a goddess, you know.”
His presence was overwhelming. The subtle scent of his masculine cologne filled her nose as the heat of his body surrounded hers. “I’m not a goddess. I’m the same woman you didn’t give a damn about until two months ago.”
“Strangely enough, that’s the exact same time you stopped giving a damn about me. Come on. One night? We don’t have to start right away. I’ll pour us some drinks and—”
April slammed her hands into his chest and pushed him off balance. She took that moment to try to slip out into the hall, but he grabbed at her arm and pulled her farther into the room as the door swung shut.
For a split second, a jolt of fear shot through her. Normally Sam could never scare her, but this wasn’t the man she knew and cared about. This was drunk Sam. Her nemesis. But then the fear was replaced with rage and she ripped her arm from his grasp. “What the hell is wrong with you? How much did you even drink tonight? How could you not think this through?”
“After what you put me through—”
“Oh, don’t even do that. Don’t you blame me for this.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “You don’t understand how crazy you make me.”
“After what you did to Annabelle, how can you even consider touching that shit? Even if your father is the biggest ass in the world, I don’t think he’s ever paralyzed someone from the waist down!”
Sam’s face went deathly pale. His black mark. His weak spot.
She knew the whiskey-fueled spiral and the fallout from his car accident had haunted him for the past five years. It was why they both tried to pretend it hadn’t happened, for the most part. He provided Annabelle with a generous, out-of-court settlement and took care of medical bills and April never saw him touch a drop of alcohol since.
At least until tonight.
“Would you for one second stop accusing everyone around you for being the villain and take a look in the mirror?”
Sam stood in a shocked silence, and April tried to read him. He didn’t look angry or guilty or tired. Just numb.
Unsure of what she should say next, and not wanting to spend one more second with drunk Sam, she shook her head and turned away, yanked the door open, and stumbled into the hall. She didn’t let the tears start until she was safely in the elevator and headed up to her own room.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Early-morning sun streamed through the window, and April groaned. She should’ve closed the damn blinds, but she hadn’t b
een thinking clearly. After she shut herself in her room, the tears had flowed freely. All her pent-up emotions from the past six years. She cried for Annabelle, whose life was forever altered by Sam’s darkest days. She cried for Sam, who would have to wake up and realize he’d thrown away five years of sobriety.
And she cried for them. For the closeness they’d once shared that seemed so far away. Sam basically hated her, and she wasn’t sure he could ever get over anything where his father was concerned.
After two hours of tossing and turning, she did what always made her feel better. She sat in the dark and stared out at the busy city below her. Millions upon millions of people. Some were having the best days of their lives and some were having the worst.
But the city lived on. Like a living, breathing super organism. April sat like that for well over an hour, wrapped in her favorite oversized sleeping shirt. When her emotional exhaustion finally set in, she didn’t fight it. She’d wanted the night to be over. She wanted it to be tomorrow already so she could be like the people below her. Moving on with life. This time it might just be without Sam.
Now that the sun shined down on her like a cheery optimist she wanted to punch in the face, she was faced with the reality of getting up and moving on with her life. But she immediately vetoed that idea in favor of rolling onto her side and covering her eyes with a pillow.
Which would’ve worked great if it weren’t for the sudden hammering. Huh? No, not hammering. Knocking. Someone banged on the door.
April shot up and off the bed. The clock read seven twenty-five, so she knew it wasn’t the hotel kicking her out. Had Donald come down to yell at her for abandoning him without a word last night?
She ran to the door and peered out the peephole. And there was Sam, looking death warmed over. He picked up his fist to knock again, but she called out, “What do you want?”
“Can we talk?”
She looked behind her to the mess she’d made of the room. The beautiful, overpriced gown was tossed carelessly over the desk chair. The heels were strewn across the floor. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to look in the mirror. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Teaching The Boss Page 9
