The temperature in the car dropped a few degrees as Lola shot Sam another look and turned back to her phone. The name sounded familiar, but for a moment, Sam couldn't place where she'd heard the name.
"Do you work in P&D?" Sam asked, still trying to place the name to an identity. For several seconds, she thought Lola would ignore the question as the woman took her time typing something one-handed before she looked up.
"Yes?" Okay then, someone was not in the mood for conversation.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Lola. Please call me Sam."
"Okay." The doors swished open, and Lola stepped out, long legs that ended in four-inch black stilettos taking her away without a backward glance. Sam sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Working here was going to be interesting. She stepped out as well and made to go back to her office when it hit her who Lola was. Jane had mentioned asking Ryan's assistant for access to the project files and had given the woman's name as Lola. Suddenly, the open hostility in the elevator made more sense, though Sam couldn't help wondering if the gorgeous woman had merely been reacting out of loyalty to her boss... or something else. Something personal.
Sam shook her head to clear her thoughts. It was none of her business if Ryan Silverton chose to carry on with his assistant. Her aim here was to ensure the department got back on its feet and not to obsess over whom he may or may not be having romantic relations with. Stepping out of the elevator, Sam hurried after the assistant. She caught up with Lola just as she entered what appeared to be a small kitchenette.
"Excuse me, Lola?" The assistant turned, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Can I help you?"
"I assume, you're Ryan's assistant, right?" Lola studied her through narrowed eyes. "Yes?"
Sam smiled, keeping her tone mild yet authoritative enough to let the woman know she wasn't up for catty games. "The project files. I understand I need special permission to access them and that you might be able to help me."
Lola set down the cups on a counter and strode to the fridge, retrieving a wrapped sandwich. "You do need access to the database, but I'm not the one to give you that. You'll have to ask Ryan."
Sam had a feeling Lola was perfectly capable of giving her the access codes, but just wanted to make her jump through hoops first. Still, she thanked her and left the kitchenette, heading towards Ryan's office. Her pulse sped up with every step that brought her closer to the mahogany door at the thought of yet another confrontation with the unnerving man, and she almost turned the other way to her own office. Maybe it was possible to avoid confrontation altogether if she simply went to Bradford himself and asked him to order his son to grant her access?
The idea was dismissed as quickly as it came. Going over Ryan's head would only heighten the tension. Plus, it might give Bradford the impression she was incapable of handling internal issues. What is the matter with you? You can't let one confrontation get in the way of doing your job. He's not going to bite for Pete's sake. Steeling her resolve, she knocked and waited with bated breath for a reply. Getting none, she tried again, louder this time in case he hadn't heard her. Still getting no reply, Sam tried the handle, surprised when it gave with an audible click and swung open, revealing an office that was larger and even more luxurious than hers.
"Ryan?" Sam called, stepping into the office. Her gaze scanned the room, but there was no sign he was in here. She shut the door and walked in, heels clicking on the dark, marble floor. Her gaze swept over the room, appreciating the even more impressive view from the glass walls, sunlight filtering through white, flimsy curtains, bathing the room in golden hues. One end of the room had floor to ceiling shelving, black shelves, filled with books and journals.
A large fireplace, occupied another end, circled by a black leather sofa and matching armchairs. Ryan's desk - an enormous piece of glass and dark wood, surrounded by identical ergonomic white chairs was neat and cluster free, the only item on it, an open laptop.
Compelled by curiosity, Sam moved towards it, reminded of why she had come in the first place. She reached out to touch and paused, struck by the inappropriateness of the act. Much as she wanted those files, checking his laptop in his absence was not the way to go about it. She bit her lower lip and stepped back, just as a framed photograph on the desk caught her eye. She leaned close, pushing stray tendrils of hair off her face to study the faces in the picture.
A man and woman stood together, an arm each slung over the other's shoulder, smiling into the camera. She instantly recognised the man as Ryan – a much younger and blonder version – and it struck Sam how happy he looked. The woman, also blonde resembled him and Sam guessed it must be his twin sister.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam shrieked. Her heart lodged in her throat as she turned at the furious voice. She whipped around so fast she nearly lost her balance, barely managing to grip the edge of the desk to keep from face planting on the floor. Her eyes flew up to the source of the voice and her mouth went dry.
Ryan – a half naked, absolutely glorious older version of the man in the picture - stood by a door she only just noticed. Sam wrenched her gaze from his face, letting her gaze travel down to his torso, bare save for the towel draped around his neck - his stomach muscles lean and set in a six-pack to rival any male model Sam had ever seen.
Her heart, which had frozen for a moment, resumed beating, faster and harder than ever as she felt her legs go weak from the momentary lack of air. A drop of water rolled its way down those steel like abs and Sam moistened her lips as her gaze trailed after it. She swallowed, thankful when the trail vanished underneath a pair of boxer shorts riding low on his hips...
Not that it was hard to imagine what else lay underneath if the rapidly growing bulge was anything to go by.