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AS far as Sam was concerned, a “small” Patel dinner was no different from an Indian wedding.

From his office window, he had counted more than thirty people arriving at the restaurant in everything from brightly colored saris to flowered shirts and feather boas, and one middle-aged man in tight leather pants. He smoothed down his shirt and adjusted his cuffs. What would they think of him?

His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the aromas drifting up from the kitchen below reminded him of his mother’s masala box, filled with all the spices she used to make their meals—zesty cumin, sweet cinnamon, fragrant bay leaves, savory mustard seeds, rich peppercorn, pungent garam masala, and spicy chilies—they were all tied up in a sense of home.

He pulled on his jacket and straightened his tie. Daisy had already gone downstairs. Time for him to meet Layla’s family. He’d never been so nervous in his life.

“Hey, partner! Let’s get the party started!” Royce burst into the office, slamming open the glass door with a case of champagne in his arms. Five women in barely-there dresses, big hair, and high heels filed in behind him, one of them carrying a long, silver pole. Evan took up the rear with a tall brunette under one arm and a case of beer under the other.

“What’s going on?”

“This is how you win the contract.” Evan dropped the box on Daisy’s reception desk. “Royce and I put our heads together this morning and came up with a plan for an evening the Alpha Health Care board won’t forget. These ladies are direct from the Platinum Club, the premier strip club in the city. We even brought Tiffany, their top pole dancer, to keep your clients entertained.”

“Evan had the PR and marketing contacts to make it all happen on short notice.” Royce shoved Layla’s papers aside and placed the box of champagne on her desk. “So I invited him to join us. I told the board it’s a very private, very exclusive party. Board members, a few top execs, and the CEO only. Lucky for us they’re all men. They’re on their way in a limo right now with a couple of very special angels and the best angel dust money can buy.”

“You’re bringing strippers and drugs to the office?” Sam stared at Royce aghast. “There are children downstairs. It’s a family restaurant. And what about John and his partners? They’re running a law firm.”

“Evan sent them an invitation. He said it’s the best way to keep the neighbors from complaining about a party. And don’t worry about the restaurant. They’ve been taken care of. I sent them a little surprise to keep them busy.” Royce pulled out a bottle of champagne and popped the cork. Fizzy liquid exploded across the room, spattering on Layla’s desk and into the fishbowl, sending the goldfish into a panicked frenzy.

“Jesus Christ, Royce. Stop. People work here.”

“Our people. Unless you didn’t get rid of the landlord’s daughter . . .”

One of the women set up two speakers beside the printer, and Rihanna’s “Don’t Stop the Music” blasted through the room, making the walls shake and the fishbowl shiver.

“Royce, baby. You’re wearing too many clothes.” A woman with bright pink hair and a silver sequin minidress tugged on Royce’s tie, pulling him back to Sam’s desk. With a wink of her extra long lashes, she cleared the surface with a sweep of her hand, scattering pens and pencils onto the floor.

“Uh-oh. Ginger’s been a naughty girl.” She leaned over Sam’s desk and wiggled her bottom.

Royce chuckled and pushed up his sleeves. “Peter said you were a live one.”

“Who ordered the booze?” Two deliverymen stood in the doorway with six boxes loaded onto a trolley.

“Toss that basket outside and put them over there,” Royce called out. “Someone give these guys a tip. Or a couple of drinks. Or girls . . .”

“That’s Max’s basket.” Too late, Sam lunged. The delivery driver grabbed Max’s basket and tossed it in the hall, sending Max’s squeaky toys flying.

“Here, dude.” Evan handed him a glass of champagne. “You need to chill.”

“I can’t chill,” Sam spat out. “I’m supposed to be meeting Layla’s family for dinner downstairs in five minutes.”

“You can’t leave,” Royce said, abandoning his visual appreciation of Ginger’s ass. “We’re hosting this party. Everyone on the short list will be pulling out the stops to convince AH to choose them. They’re all scrambling to book a table at some fancy-ass restaurant, but no one is going to do this. Evan is a fucking genius. If this doesn’t get us that contract, I don’t know what will. We’re going to give them one hell of a good time.”

“This isn’t my idea of a good time.” Meeting Layla’s crazy family, eating masala dosas, and going public with his feelings for the woman who had accepted him despite his failings was his idea of a good time. Holding her in his arms while the warm afternoon sunshine slid lazy fingers through the cracks in his curtains was his idea of a good time. Looking up from his desk to see her chewing on the end of her pencil, deep in thought, while a pile of donuts lay untouched beside her, was his idea of a good time.

“Well, it’s going to have to be,” Royce said tightly. “Or don’t you want the contract?”

“Of course I want it. More than anything.”

“Then loosen the damn tie. Grab a glass. Kiss a couple of girls and put on your dancing shoes. Our prospective clients are coming to visit the building where all the magic is going to happen.”

“Don’t you mean the office?”

“Glassware delivery,” a delivery driver called out. “I need a signature.”

“I mean the building.” Royce signed for the glasses. “It’s ours. The whole damn thing. I bought it, or to be clear, our company bought it. Hard money deal. One week to close. You said to do what it took to secure the contract, so I did.”

Sam let out an unsteady breath. “You bought the building?”

“It’s all about location, location, location.” Royce grinned. “One of the reasons we got on the short list was because of our proximity to the hospitals and the AH head office. I had a call last week from Peter Richards, the AH CEO. He was concerned we weren’t big enough to handle a five-hospital restructure, so I told a little lie and assured him we owned the building and had the room to expand to accommodate their needs. Then I had to make it a reality. It wasn’t easy to get the funding on short notice, but I managed to do it. The deal closed today.”

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. “How did you make a major capital purchase without my signature?”