It was a new look for her and it rattled him. Sam was as tough as they came. She played to win and when she did, she didn’t gloat, and if she didn’t, there was no pouting. He liked her, genuinely liked her, though he knew she’d be surprised to know it.
“Well?” She looked away and stared straight ahead.
“Sure,” Josh said gruffly.
“Thanks.” She released the doors and strode out, any hint of softness now buried beneath a sternly professional outer shell.
Josh resisted the urge to mimic her straight-backed posture. She sure wasn’t going to be as much fun if she got this job.
They walked along a wide hallway that was open to the atrium lobby below. Though he’d never been in this hotel before, Josh was intimately familiar with standard hotel layout and knew the ballrooms and meeting rooms were on this floor. “So who’s your competition?”
He didn’t think she was going to answer him, but finally offered, “Leonard Sheffield—”
“I know him. He’s a wienie. Don’t worry about him.”
“And Harvey Wannerstein.”
Figured. Josh had run across him, too. Talk about your jerks. He said nothing because it didn’t look good for Sam. She was too much of a rule follower and it made her predictable and thus easy to outmaneuver—like playing poker with someone who showed you her hand. Harvey played with marked cards in mirrored rooms with aces up his sleeve.
“Josh?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ve got to know Harvey. He’s based here in New York.”
“Yeah. I know him.”
“So what do you think?”
He looked down at her—not far, since Sam was on the tall side. He couldn’t help remembering that she fit ever so nicely against him. “Watch your back.” And a lovely back it was, too. He considered offering to watch it for her.
“Why?”
“He’s worse than me.”
“I didn’t think that was possible.”
She walked on, but Josh stopped, right there on the muted gray-blue carpet with intarsia border. Sam would no doubt be surprised to know that he had buttons and that she’d just pushed one of them.
She kept walking until, all at once, she pivoted. “What?”
Josh drew his hands to his waist and stood firm in the middle of the hall. “I am not worse than Harvey Wannerstein. In fact, I don’t like being compared to Harvey Wannerstein.”
Sam took a few steps back in his direction. “You compared yourself to him.”
“Because there are similarities in our approach—”
“You mean he beats you at your own game?”
“I mean he changes the rules after you’ve signed on.”
She raised an eyebrow, her face the picture of contempt.
He couldn’t stand it. His mother had given him that same look every time she said, “You’re going to grow up and be just like your father—all talk and nothing behind it.” And if there was one thing Josh didn’t want, it was to look at Samantha Baldwin and be reminded of his mother. “When I make a deal, no matter how it comes about, once we shake hands, I deliver. No tricks and no gotchas. And I never go into a deal promising something that isn’t going to happen.”
Sam crossed her arms across her chest and gave him a disgusted look. “Federated Nurses, 1998.”
Remembering that spectacular mess, Josh felt his face heat. She would bring up that. “Construction ran behind schedule and the hotel wasn’t finished. I personally negotiated a deal with, as I recall, Carrington, on that group’s behalf. And, yes, it was more than the nurses wanted to pay, but less than if they’d gone out and tried to find another hotel on their own. I did not—” he jabbed a finger for emphasis “—just tell them too bad, those are the breaks and send back their contract!”
“You’re shouting.”
He was. “I’m enunciating clearly across the chasm that divides us.” Josh took a deep breath to calm down.
Looking at the toes of her shoes, Sam traced the design in the carpet and by doing so, slowly drew closer to him without giving the impression of losing ground. Atta girl.
He consciously lowered his voice. “I guess I’ll have to say I don’t knowingly promise what I can’t deliver—unlike your friend Harvey.”
“He’s not my friend.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She looked up at him. “What do you know?”
Josh debated—but not for very long—on what to tell her. “I know that he has a rep for changing contract terms close to the meeting date.”
“He can’t.” Sam shook her head. “That’s why it’s called a contract. That’s why there are cancellation clauses and penalties.”
She just wouldn’t think outside the rules’ box. Josh mimed making a phone call. “Federated Nurses? About your 1998 convention, are you still predicting a thousand attendees? You are. I’m afraid there’s a problem on this end. The begonia growers need to change their convention date to the weekend you wanted. They always book three thousand, so we certainly want to accommodate them. Now, if you were guaranteeing even two thousand, I could make a case for you, but I already made you a spectacular deal on the room rates. I know we were the lowest and frankly, there were a few grumbles on this end, so now the board is looking at the profit bottom line, and, well, heh, heh, begonias are just more profitable than nurses. What? Yes, even with the cancellation penalty, which we will certainly pay…no, I’m afraid we can’t cover the cost of reprinting your brochures…well, I could try…if you were willing to renegotiate the contract to make it more attractive—”
“Oh, come on! Ever consider stand-up comedy?” She was still several feet away.
For a reason he didn’t want to examine, Josh wanted her to think better of him than that scuz Harvey. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“Good, ’cause you weren’t.”
“I’m telling you, the guy pulls this stuff all the time. Then the group renegotiates for higher rates because they don’t have the time to find another hotel and it would cost a heck of a lot more if they did—even when they’re paid the penalty according to the contract.”
She didn’t look impressed. “Somebody would have sued by now.”
“How do you know they haven’t? Harvey may not have been with Carrington long enough. I remember when he was with Peabody Hotels and Smith-Hunter before that. Besides, do you think he’d pull that stunt on a group that was likely to sue?”
“I think this sounds like sour grapes on your part.” Sam dropped her arms, turned around, and started walking.
She didn’t believe him!
“Hey!” He jogged to catch up and stopped right in front of her.
Sam stepped to one side and so did Josh. Then, predictably, she went for the other side and he blocked her there, too.
Clearly exasperated, she looked up at him.
This was the closest he’d been to her since…since the Time That Must Be Forgotten. Except he couldn’t forget it.
She’d been new on the circuit. He’d run into her a couple of times before, but this time, they were on his home turf of Chicago. He was feeling expansive; she was pretty