Chapter 9
Chapter nine
The scent of oakmoss and sex clung to the sheets. Baz didn’t have it in him to change them; he was stuck staring at the wet spot Sami had left, glistening in the moonlight.
What the hell had possessed him to let Sami-fucking-Adam crawl into his bed? Dropping all caution just because an infuriatingly handsome guy batted his little lashes at him… he had acted like a horny teenager.
If Sami didn’t stay true to his word, if he blabbed to Ian, the mere accusation that Baz used him to gain access to privileged information could ruin everything he had worked for. How had he managed to brush that aside in the moment? What was it about Sami that disabled his common sense?
Well, he knew what. That body, Sami’s clever mouth, those shameless moans and that pleasure-ridden face… A hot flash chased through Baz all the way to his toes.
Could mistakes feel so good when making them?
Had it been a mistake?
It wasn’t exactly unthinkable that the guy acted on attraction alone. Baz prided himself on taking good care of his appearance. If all were as it seemed… Then he wouldn’t be left with an envelope of plain paper and that damn hickey, would he?
He traced along his neck. He still felt the phantom touch of Sami’s caress, the tender spot where his lips had abused his skin. He could still feel the heat of Sami’s naked body rubbing against him… His dick twitched, begging to be reunited with Sami already.
Baz squeezed a pillow over his face to suffocate his groan. He was hopeless. Why were forbidden fruits the sweetest?
By the time the morning sun coated his apartment in its warm amber light, his stomach was one huge, solid knot. Time to face the music.
Part of him considered wearing the polyester abomination to appeal to Sami’s love for games, entice him enough to keep his mouth shut—but no. Baz hadn’t sunk that low just yet. If it turned out he had fallen for a trap, then he’d go down in style.
He put on his blue-checked Hugo Boss suit, the first designer one he bought for himself after he received his acceptance letter from UChicago Law. Here was hoping Aya was right and looking invincible truly made him invincible too.
He moved his head in front of the mirror, back and forth, up and down, even filmed himself from a higher angle, but the hickey was never visible. At least there was that.
So long as Sami wasn’t a liar, all they needed to do was to act normal, and no one would suspect a thing. Baz could do that.
Could Sami?
Their meeting being scheduled for the afternoon was a special kind of torture.
Baz begged his brain to focus on work, but every sound had him searching for a sign of impending doom.
He imagined Erika walking through the door in her killer heels, slamming pictures of him and Sami onto his desk.
How could you be so stupid? she would growl, and she would fire Baz for being a damn idiot.
His name would be tarnished, and he wouldn’t find a job again, all over a moment of weakness—
“You all right, bro?”
Baz startled upright in his chair. Collin, in his doorframe. Why?
“Can I help you?”
“No, but I can help you. Aya told me to look into Captain Green’s financials and give you the breakdown before your meeting. Here.”
Baz’s eye twitched. Aya had told Collin but not Baz? Baz could have easily done that research himself! It had been on his list, except that it wasn’t relevant at all yet. A company owned by Breme could afford an eighty-million-dollar settlement five times over without breaking a sweat.
He snatched the thin file out of Collin’s hand. “Anything else?”
“Nah. Oh, actually. Are you coming to Sullivan’s big birthday bash next month? It’s gonna be huge.” Collin announced it with a childlike glee, as if any part of that sounded fun when it was Baz’s idea of hell.
Networking events with clients? Fine, he had no choice. Schmoozing people with money, advertising for the firm, those were part of the job. An informal birthday party was a whole different beast.
With the entire firm invited, it’d be a networking event in its own right. The kind that got people’s names into partners’ heads. The kind that could accelerate a promotion if the right impressions were made…
“I’ll be there.” If he still had a job then. If Sami hadn’t outed him and gotten him shunned from the legal world.
“Awesome. Will do you good to relax a little, bro. Plus, there’ll be many eligible ladies around.
” Collin smirked and was out of the door before Baz could finish rolling his eyes.
No party had ever done him any good, ever, least of all one where he was at risk of being set up with a woman. The thought alone made him shudder.
Much as he didn’t want to be stuffed in the ‘gay lawyer’ box—forever reduced to being the best for a gay guy and not the best, period—those rumors needed to die.
He flicked through the file Collin had given him.
If Collin’s research was correct—and really, there was no guarantee—Captain Green had made fifteen billion in profit in the last year alone.
Yeah, they had no business whining about a higher settlement.
Baz didn’t doubt for a second that whatever Ian brought to the table would not reflect the company’s good financial situation.
As long as he brought a settlement offer and not evidence to blackmail Baz with.
Baz swallowed against his thickening throat.
All he could cling to was the fact that if last night had been setup, Baz could just as well use that against Ian.
Forcing someone to prostitute themselves was illegal, and he wasn’t above dragging Ian and Sami down with him.
Hopefully, Ian was too calculated to risk such a lose-lose situation.
Dear god, let him be too calculated.
The prayer carried him to the conference room with a racing heart that he blamed on the stairs. He arrived ten minutes early, to assert dominance; this wasn’t the time for a keep-them-waiting power play.
Aya joined him barely two minutes later, in a gray suit and blue shirt that complimented Baz’s outfit beautifully. Any other day, Baz would have enjoyed being on the same wavelength.
“Why did you tell Collin to look into Captain Green’s financials? Your disapproval of my offer wasn’t subtle. You didn’t have to go that far.”
Aya cocked an eyebrow. “What else are associates for if not to do the grunt work?”
“It’s my case. I’m the associate who can do the grunt work.”
“Baz, if you wanna be partner, you gotta learn to delegate work. Where would you be if I was as stingy as you with my cases?”
But that was him, not Collin. They weren’t exactly on the same level.
Then again, the idea that Collin was working for him was a good one. Same age, same experience, same school, yet Baz was ahead.
“If you put it that way.”
“See? Never doubt me. Now, are you ready to face your nemesis or is there anything else you wanna get off your chest?”
Why? What had she heard?
“I was joking,” Aya said, frowning slightly.
Right. Of course she was. Because no one else knew about last night.
“I know. I’m ready.” In theory. He was prepared for a negation, but the rest… Would Sami come with Ian? Would that be a good or a bad sign, or would it mean nothing?
The moment of truth was upon him fifteen minutes later.
Ian entered his line of sight first, his graying hair combed to the side.
His face had fewer lines than last time, yet his eyebrows sat higher, unnaturally so.
How embarrassing. A man on Ian’s rung of the career ladder should be able to afford plastic surgery that didn’t make him look like a haunted doll.
Especially next to Sami, who glowed brighter than the sun.
He came in with a bounce in his step and a subtle smirk, like he was in on a joke no one else could hear—except that Baz did hear it. And he was about to find out if he was the punchline or the co-conspirator.
“Sebastian. It is just wonderful to see you,” Ian patronized.
Baz forced down the fuck you that sat on the tip of the tongue.
He accepted Ian’s oily hand, and, purely because this was a professional meeting, he shook Sami’s too.
The same hand that had grabbed his dick less than twenty-four hours ago.
A bolt of electricity shot up his arm, turned into a persistent, hot tickle under his skin as their eyes met.
Sami’s narrowed slightly, sparkling with something Baz prayed wasn’t mischief—how long had they been looking at each other?
He tore himself away and witnessed Ian shoving his hand at Aya with a grin that deserved to be punched off.
He knew damn well she didn’t touch men. Baz itched with the urge to swat his hand away, but last time he tried that, he got an earful from Aya about how she didn’t need him to assert her religious boundaries for her.
Her silent glare was enough for Ian to give up after a few more seconds, still smirking. Dick.
Sami placed his palm above his heart and nodded, a gesture that Aya, eyebrows shooting up to her hijab, reciprocated. Huh. So he knew about being respectful after all, he just didn’t extend that courtesy to Baz.
That couldn’t possibly be a good sign.
The metallic taste of blood hit Baz’s tongue. He released the inside of his cheek he hadn’t realized he’d been abusing and gestured for them to take a seat—an invitation Sami only followed after Ian did.
“After careful reconsideration,” Ian said, because why wait for Baz to start the meeting? “I have come up with a more appropriate offer.”
He held his palm out to Sami, who placed the file into it.
“Despite your speculative, unfounded accusation”—Baz barely held back a snort—“and as a sign of goodwill to reestablish the trust you broke—”
“You mean that your client broke with their negligence.”
“—we are willing to offer three million dollars.”
Ian pushed the papers across the desk. Three pages altogether. No pictures stuck out, no sign of blackmail. Yet. Still, Baz’s shoulders relaxed. He leaned back.