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“Those were the best honey walnut shrimp I’ve ever had.” Babette shifted her weight, causing her blouse to slip down. “Maybe the best shrimp I’ve ever had period.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Samson finished signing the papers and closed the folder before handing it back to her. “Send those out straight away.”
“I haven’t heard a lot of good things about must-visit Chinese places.” Babette took the papers and held them right below her breasts. “Indian, yes, and Thai…”
Samson nodded absently. Hutchinson had sent him an email, and Samson scanned over the contents. It was mostly complaints about his team. “Well, we won’t be here for too much longer. Six months, maybe, on the outside. Get some of these projects launched, get the books in order. Then, I can hop back and forth to check their progress. Hopefully, I can take you somewhere less sweltering next time. Though, this close to the coast, you ought to be able to find some decent seafood.”
“You know me. I love to try new things.” Babette adjusted her blouse and leaned forward once more. “You know I heard there was a great place in the Memorial area, Izakaya-Wa. They’re supposed to have good sushi.”
“Hm.” Samson started to reply to Hutchinson’s message.
“I love sushi.”
“Did you need anything else, Babette?”
She sighed. “No. Just the papers. I’ll get them sent out. Let me know if you want anything else.”
“Pop in on Hutchinson after you send those papers and ask them to send up their current designs. I want to look over them before I call a formal meeting.”
“Yes, sir.” Babette nodded, then lingered for a moment. When Samson looked up, she smiled at him, opened her mouth for a moment as though she’d say something, and then disappeared out the door.
“The heat is going to her brain, poor thing,” Samson murmured. It was so terribly hot in Houston in the summer.
***
The next few days saw a flurry of messages back and forth, multiple reams of architect prints, and more coffee than could have been justified by all of Brazil. Samson kept on top of the firm and its projects by day, and let his excess energy out on a couple of women he’d picked up at a sassy little dive bar called Poison Girl.
Thus, the morning of the presentation from Hutchinson’s team, Samson was in a wonderful mood. He swaggered into the conference room with a large cup of coffee in his hand that Babette had picked up from one of the many quirky independent coffee shops in the area.
“Morning, Garcia.” Samson surveyed the room and sat at the head of the table. “Looking forward to this?”
Garcia, who had been connecting a projector to a laptop, arched a brow and shook his head. “Sure thing, boss.”
“That doesn’t sound too confident. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” Samson reclined in his chair and watched Garcia with a smile. “You have a strong group here. I expect good things, and I’ll see them.”
Garcia was about to say something when April entered the room. Samson lifted his cup.
“Hello, April,” Samson said cheerfully.
“Oh, hi. You’re here early. We still have some things to set up.” April was eyeing him nervously, but she went directly to the seat beside Garcia and put her purse down. She wasn’t even wearing a proper blouse today. It was sleeveless and a bit low-cut, but had a nice bit of lace and rhinestones around the collar. Did she often wear so little under those no-nonsense suit jackets?
“Am I banished?” Samson tried to restrain himself from teasing her.
“Not at all.” She reached behind her to pull her hair back. “I’m just warning you that it’s not going to be very entertaining.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
April fanned herself with a file and tuned to Garcia. “Do we have the reports ready?”
“They’re in my office,” Garcia said, not looking up from the laptop.
“I’ll go get them.” April started for the door. “Anything else?”
“Um, get the jump drive in the top drawer for me?”
April gave Samson a smile as she hurried off. The whole team ducked in and out and chatted quietly while keeping an eye on their boss, who waited for them to patiently ready themselves. Soon, April returned, slipped her suit jacket on so that everything was hidden apart from the bit of jazz on the front of her blouse, and sat across the table from Samson.
Samson gave her a smile and checked his watch. “Are we ready to go?”
