Just Like a Man by Elizabeth Bevarly

his quick climb up the success ladder. And for that reason, she wouldn't have gotten involved with him even if he wasn't on the board of the Emerson Academy. Ruthless-ness was a quality in a man she could just as soon do without. She wondered if Michael was ruthless.
    And then she told herself it didn't matter. Because she wouldn't be getting close enough to him—ever—to find out.
    "Adrian often attends these potlucks in his capacity as a board member," Hannah explained to Michael. Though why she would explain something he would doubtless infer was a mystery to her. Especially since she suspected Adrian attended these potlucks less as a board member and more because Hannah attended them, too. So she hastily added, "Where do the two of you know each other from?"
    For a single, uncomfortable moment, both men remained utterly silent, utterly still, as if neither was sure how to answer so simple and straightforward a question.
    Then, "As Michael said, he and I go way back," Adrian told her.
    Strangely, she detected something in his voice that was almost antagonistic, but there was something there, too, that was almost affectionate. How very interesting.
    "And how do the two of you know each other?" she asked, realizing that although he had responded, Adrian hadn't answered her question. Belatedly, she realized it was actually an inappropriate question to ask. Not only was it none of her business what kind of history the two men shared, but there was a chance that the shared history wasn't exactly good, and now she'd set them both up for an awkward situation.
    She began to suspect that that was the case when both men still hesitated to reply, and instead only exchanged a hasty, meaningful glance. At least, Hannah assumed it was meaningful to them. She herself had no idea what it might have signified. Other than that she'd just
fauxpas-ed
herself into a really big pile of
merde.
    "We, ah… we went to school together," Adrian finally said.
    "Really," Hannah said. And then, even though she told herself not to, she continued with her same line of questioning. "Was Mr. Sawyer studying computers, or were you studying accounting?"
    Adrian chuckled. "Accounting?" he echoed, turning his attention back to Michael. "You're an
accountant
now? Is that the career path you actually pursued? Are you serious?"
    "I am an accountant," Michael replied a bit testily. "As for serious, well… you should know better than to ask, Adrian."
    Adrian nodded. "I remember you were more serious about some things than others," he said.
    "As were you," Michael rejoined. And there was a definite edge to his voice when he spoke.
    It quickly became evident that the edge was elsewhere, too, because as a wine-laden waiter passed by them, Michael snagged a glass of red from the tray and downed half of it in a single, rapacious swallow. Not once did he take his eyes off of Adrian as he did so. And not once did Hannah take her eyes off of Michael. Something about the way he was looking at Adrian gave her pause. As did the way his strong throat worked over the swallow, and how, after completing it, he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, still cradling the wine glass with complete ease. His grasp was the only thing about him that was easy, however. Because he looked tense and angry, and Hannah realized to her surprise that she wanted very much to do or say something to Michael that would counter his tension and anger.
    And when, she wondered, had she started to think of him as
Michael,
instead of
Michael Sawyer!
    "Mr. Sawyer's son attends Emerson," she said, turning to Adrian. "This is his first year."
    "Alex," Adrian said. "He must be in, what… fourth grade now?"
    "Yes," Hannah replied, surprised, too, that Adrian knew that about Michael. Sawyer. Michael Sawyer.
    "Yet this is his first year at Emerson, you say," Adrian added. "How interesting. The timing, I mean."
    "Not really," Michael said. "I wasn't all that crazy about his last school. Emerson has a better