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“I wouldn’t have thought to call that ‘sexism.’ It sounds like him, though.” Samson pursed his lips. “He’s the same with mother. She’s a cunning woman, moving in social circles to quietly get her way, but he acts like her only job is to plan social events for his clients.”
April nodded and sat up, crossing her legs over the blanket. “It’s funny that you’re not really the same.”
“I’m not?”
“No. I mean, you’re a playboy, definitely, and I’m not sure… Well, I’m not sure about a lot of things. But you treat me like an equal in the workplace at least. You value the women you work with based entirely on what they can do for the company. I noticed that in the meeting today, too. Sarah Crenshaw was the only other woman there, and they kept talking over her, but you silenced Mr. Coleman so you could hear what she had to say.”
Samson wrinkled his brow and thought back. “I honestly don’t remember that. I remember Crenshaw talking about how their firm had plenty of talent but needed more people with management and finance experience. That was something we needed to address, so I was glad she brought it to the table.”
“Yes, and Coleman was talking over her until you held your hand up and asked Crenshaw to continue. As a guy, you’re not really expected to notice. But I do. And I notice when you make sure everyone gets the opportunity to put an opinion in. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m giving you a compliment.” April twisted her fingers. “You kind of did that for me with Hutchinson, too. I appreciate it.”
“You’re the better designer,” he said flatly.
“I’m just saying that not every boss is going to recognize people on their merits. A lot of bosses are going to look at who you are before they can see what you can do.” April rose onto her knees and cupped his face with one hand as she gave him a firm kiss.
“Well, I’ll take the accolades for that, if I must.”
“Don’t expect a cookie every time you behave like a decent human being.” April kissed him again. “Though you sure pounded my cookie last night.”
“Your cookie?!” Samson sputtered.
He would have protested further, if she hadn’t been pushing him back on the bed.
Chapter Nine
The trip to Chicago had been eye-opening. On the business end, they had accomplished their goals. Samson convinced the new firm that he would be able to make them a more lucrative business without micromanaging them, and the members of the firm offered designs and projects that would be worth Samson’s time. April still wondered whether Samson had needed her there to look over the creative work, but he allowed her to take the lead on that part of the meetings, and she was grateful to have the chance to prove herself.
In other matters, she was even less certain. They’d been fooling around so much on the trip that April was afraid that she would end up as the next mystery girl for the tabloids. They’d had sex in every available space in the hotel as well as a few public places and one private tour of a bootlegger back room. She once trained for a marathon and been less sore than she was when she came back from Chicago.
And, unsurprisingly, when they got back late Sunday evening, Samson wanted to pop by his office to check on a few things. April came with him, and before he looked at a single file, Samson snatched a condom from a stash under Babette’s desk. Consequently, they had to tidy up the papers there before going into his office to get their notes ready for the office meeting the next day.
April returned to Lana’s apartment at around one o’ clock in the morning and collapsed on her bed in a heap as Damien ran around in excited circles on the floor. It was the first time she’d been alone in a bed in a week, and she curled over on herself, grateful to have the space to wriggle around but missing his body around hers at the same time. For someone who had learned to keep people at a distance, she was failing spectacularly with Samson.
But it wasn’t just his body that called to her now. It was everything about him. His cleverness, his rational mind, hell, even his ego. Everything about him made her want to be near him, always.
“I’m in so much trouble,” April murmured.
She opened her laptop. With only a little guilt, she turned on one of her favorite interviews with him and listened to it as she changed into a tank top to sleep in. She would miss the Chicago weather. It was probably worse in winter, but it had been perfect during their trip.
Once she was ready for bed, she picked Damien up and dropped him on the bed, and then reached over to turn the laptop off, but hesitated. What was that interview he said she should look at? The one with puppies? She did a quick search and was rewarded quickly with the most current interview as well as two others. She curled up with the laptop and lie back on her pillows to watch Samson playing with puppies as she scratched Damien’s head.
