Читать книгу Much More Than a Mistress - Michelle Celmer - Страница 10

Like Mr. Everette, Mr. Blair had a corner office, but it was nearly twice the size and much more luxurious. Mr. Blair, whom she recognized from the television news stories that had run after the refinery explosion, sat behind his desk. He was dark-haired, conservatively handsome, and the touch of gray at his temples said he was probably in his early forties.

“Miss Monroe,” he said, rising from his chair, as did the man seated across from his desk. A third man stood by the window. “Come in. Close the door behind you.”

She did as he asked and crossed the room, hands trembling, palms sweaty, praying she didn’t trip and make a total fool of herself. Her toes were pinched so tight in her shoes that each step was torture.

Good lord, she was a wreck. She could only hope she didn’t look half as terrified as she felt.

“Miss Monroe, I’m Adam Blair, and this is Nathan Everette, our Chief Brand Officer.” Mr. Blair indicated the man by his desk, then he turned to the one by the window and said, “And this is Emilio Suarez, our Chief Financial Officer.”

She nodded to both men, who each gave her a very subtle once-over. Nathan Everette was darker than his brother, and a little larger in stature, but there was a strong family resemblance. Mr. Suarez was the utter epitome of tall, dark and handsome and of Hispanic descent. All three men were above-average in the looks department and she nearly felt faint from the ridiculously high level of testosterone in the room. She wondered if looking like a GQ cover model was prerequisite to their positions.

“Please, have a seat,” Mr. Blair said, indicating the chair next to Mr. Everette.

She sat primly on the edge. Mr. Blair and Mr. Everette both took their seats while Mr. Suarez remained standing, arms crossed, his expression dark. As an attorney, she had gotten pretty good at reading people and situations, and there was a definite negative vibe in the room.

“First off, I’d like to make it clear that none of us are happy about the need to investigate our colleague,” Mr. Blair said. “Your boss has assured me that this will be handled with the utmost care.”

“Absolutely,” she said, hoping they didn’t hear the quiver in her voice.

Mr. Blair leaned forward in his seat, folding his hands atop his desk. “He told me that the plan is for you to get to know Mr. Everette on a more … personal level. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

Okay. Well, that was very … direct. She had barely begun the investigation and already they were unhappy.

She was so completely screwed.

She squared her shoulders and tried to sound as if she knew what she was talking about. “If Mr. Everette is involved in a conspiracy, chances are slim he would be foolish enough to keep any incriminating evidence at work. More than likely I’ll need access to his home.”

“And you’ll do that how?” Mr. Suarez asked. He didn’t outwardly suggest impropriety, but the implication was there. She tried not to take it personally. Actually, she felt sort of sorry for them. They were clearly distressed by what they had to do.

“It’s against agency policy to engage in activity that is illegal or unethical,” she told him.

Mr. Everette rubbed his forehead, looking pained. “I don’t like it.”

“Two weeks ago you and Jordan weren’t on speaking terms,” Mr. Suarez said.

Mr. Everette shot him a look. “It just seems so … underhanded. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course it bothers me. And if it were one of my brothers being investigated I would probably be just as hesitant. But, Nathan, we don’t have a choice. We need to know, and we agreed this was the best way to handle the situation.”

“You all seem to respect Mr. Everette,” she said. “Why is it that you think he could have been the saboteur?”

“As you probably already know, a week before the explosion someone wired two hundred thousand dollars into Jordan’s account, and a few days later he wired thirty thousand dollars out. But we don’t know where the money came from, or who it went to.”

“So you think that someone paid him, and he paid someone else to tamper with the equipment.”

“That’s one possibility,” Adam said.

“Why? I’ve seen his financials. He’s not hurting for money.”

“Jordan is ambitious,” Adam said. “This happened before everyone learned the CEO position was opening up. Maybe he felt he’d hit a ceiling. Maybe someone made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, but expected something in return first.”

“And you believe he would put people’s lives in danger to further his career?” she asked.

“Maybe no one was meant to get hurt, but something went wrong,” Emilio suggested.

“If you’re right, and he got a better offer, why is he still here?”

“To avoid suspicion? Or maybe now that the CEO position is opening up, he has a reason to stay.”

“Or maybe,” Emilio offered, “since there were injuries, it killed the deal.”

All plausible scenarios. Especially if he was as ambitious as they all seemed to believe.

“That’s what we need you to find out,” Mr. Blair said, looking to Mr Everette. “And either we’re all in, or this stops today.”

Jane held her breath. Would her first undercover assignment be over before it started? If she blew this on the very first day, would her boss blame her? They might never give her another chance to work undercover. She needed to take the bull by the horns.

“Mr. Everette,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm, hoping he couldn’t sense her desperation. “I have three siblings myself, so I understand how difficult this must be for you. I’ll take whatever steps necessary to ensure that no one is hurt. You have my word.”

Mr. Everette glanced from her to his partners, looking conflicted. For a second she thought for sure he would refuse to cooperate, but he finally sighed and said, “Okay, lets do it.”

Jane breathed a silent sigh of relief. That was a close one.

Mr. Blair stood, which she took to mean that the meeting was over. She rose from her seat, her achy feet screaming in protest.

“If you need anything from us, don’t hesitate to ask,” he said. “We would like this resolved as soon as possible.”

Nodding to each man, she said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen,” then she turned and walked to the door, praying she didn’t trip on anything, and let herself out of the office, limp with relief. That had gone way better than she expected.

“Well?” Bren asked as Jane snapped the door shut behind her. She held up her thumb in an “okay” gesture, startled when the door opened behind her and Mr. Everette stepped out.

“My office, now,” he told Jane, and her heart immediately sank. Oh hell. Maybe the worst of it wasn’t over after all.

She followed him across the hall, knees knocking again. At this rate she was going to need a straightjacket before the day was over.

“Lynn, hold my calls,” he told his secretary, who looked surprised to see him with his brother’s secretary. Jane wondered if he realized that a move like this could very well blow her cover.

He gestured her into his office and stepped in behind her, closing the door. She actually flinched as it snapped shut. Was it possible that despite what he’d told his partners, he still wasn’t okay with the investigation? Did he intend on giving her a hard time?

He crossed the room to his desk and sat down. “Have a seat, Miss Monroe.”

She did as he asked, sitting on the edge of the chair across from his desk.

“In the interest of getting this investigation resolved as quickly as possible, there are a few things I should tell you about my brother.”

He wanted to help her? “Yes, please. Anything you think would be helpful.”

“I can only assume the agency is aware of my brother’s reputation as a womanizer, and that’s why they sent you.”

“That was the idea.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ve caught his attention. You’re a very beautiful woman Miss Monroe, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s going to take more than a pretty face and a tight skirt to keep him interested.”

Take it the wrong way? A gorgeous billionaire just called her beautiful and he thought she would be offended? If her feet weren’t so darned sore she might be turning cartwheels across his office.

“Do you have any advice as to what will keep him interested?”

“My brother loves a challenge, so don’t make it too easy for him. If you’re too aggressive, he’ll lose interest. Make him work for it. Play hard to get.”

Considering her pathetic lack of experience chasing the opposite sex, she liked the idea of letting Mr. Everette come to her.

“Also, he’ll find you measurably more appealing if you make it clear that you have no interest in any sort of commitment.”

She could definitely do that.

“But probably the most important thing to keep in mind is that my brother has a short attention span when it comes to the opposite sex. He’ll have expectations, and if they aren’t met, he’ll get bored pretty fast.”

Then she would have to work quickly. Because if he was talking about what she thought he was talking about, meeting those expectations was not even an option. She wanted to crack this case, but even she had limits. And even if she was that desperate, if her boss learned that she had slept with the subject of an investigation to get information, her career would be over.

“I’ll be honest, Miss Monroe. My brother and I don’t exactly see eye to eye on most things. The truth is, he can be an arrogant ass, but he’s not a bad person.”

“You protect him.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “For the life of me I don’t know why.”

“Because that’s what big brothers do. I know, I have two of them.” Although in her case, they didn’t just protect. They domineered.

Mr. Everette smiled. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she’d first thought. At first glance he seemed so dark and intense, but he definitely had a softer side. “With a sister as pretty as you, I’m sure it was a full-time job.”

Wow, she really liked this guy.

“Well,” he said, rising from his chair. “I’m glad we had this talk. But I should let you get back to work.”

She stood and smoothed her skirt back into place. “Thank you for the advice.”

He reached across the desk to shake her hand. His grip was firm and confident. “Good luck, Miss Monroe.”

She left Nathan Everette’s office feeling a lot less unsure of herself than when she’d walked into work that morning. The first day of her first undercover assignment may have had a bit of a bumpy start, but things were definitely looking up.

She hobbled back to her desk on her poor tortured feet, yet she felt a renewed confidence. If she could maintain her cool in a meeting with the CEO, CBO and CFO of a multibillion dollar corporation, she could handle just about anything.

When she got there she kicked off her shoes and opened her top drawer, fishing out the flash drive. It was time to go get some information.

“Is it my imagination or were you a lot taller the last time I saw you?”

At the sound of Mr. Everette’s voice she gasped in surprise and dropped the flash drive back in the drawer. She whipped around, slamming it shut with her backside. He stood in his office doorway, arms folded, leaning against the jamb. And he must have been back for some time because not only was his coat off, he’d removed his suit jacket as well. “You’re back early.”

“I made it as far as the lobby and got a call that the meeting was cancelled.”

If she hadn’t been called away, he would have without a doubt walked in on her “investigating.” The thought made her knees go weak. Next time she would have to make sure that he’d actually left the building before she set foot in his office.

“Imagine my surprise when I returned to find that my new secretary was already playing hooky.”

“N-no … I wasn’t …” She stopped and took a deep breath. What was the point of making excuses. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“Where were you?”

Okay, she could handle this. It was all about thinking on her feet, and being prepared. So of course her mind went instantly blank. “The, um … HR office.”

“Human resources?”

“Yes.”

“For …?”

“Paperwork. There was a form they forgot to have me sign.”

“And they stole your shoes while you were there?” he said, nodding to her stocking feet.

“No, of course not. They’re under my desk. They’re new and they were pinching my toes.” At least that much was the truth. “I can put them back on—”

“Oh no. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for your sore feet. Although maybe they would hurt less if you sat down.”

She lowered herself into her chair.

“I need to go talk to my brother,” he said, and before she could stop herself she sucked in a breath. Did he know she’d just been there?

No, of course he didn’t. How could he?

He gave her an odd look. “Problem?”

She gestured to her feet. “Sorry, sore toes.”

“As I was saying, I have to talk to my brother before my mother blows a gasket. But if anyone calls, I’m in a meeting.”

“Of course.”

With one last curious look her way, he walked out.

The man must have thought she was a loon.

Her cell phone started to ring and she pulled it out of the desk drawer, where she had left it again.

And it was her sister, Mary. Again. She pressed the talk button. “Hey Mary, what’s up?”

“You sure are tough to get ahold of,” Mary snapped in lieu of a hello.

Jane sighed. She had half a mind to just hang up on her. She wished she had the guts to do it, but things had been so strained lately already, she didn’t want to make it worse. Mary was just pissy because Jane was no longer around the office to do her grunt work. Despite having graduated with higher honors than every one of her siblings, and passing the bar with flying colors, up until the day Jane had left, they had continued to treat her like an intern.

“I’m at work. I haven’t had a chance to call you back.”

“Whatever,” she said, sounding like a spoiled adolescent. Though she was the older sister, she didn’t always act like it. “I’m just calling to remind you about this Friday.”

“What about it?”

She sighed dramatically. “Monthly dinner with the family, stupid.”

Jane ignored the “stupid” remark, because although Mary may have been prettier, and more outgoing and popular, they both knew Jane was smarter. Though sometimes that was more of a liability than a asset. Being the “smart and practical” sibling didn’t leave a lot of room for error.

“But we usually do that the last Friday of the month,” she told her sister. “That’s not until next week.”

“Don’t you remember, we decided to do it a week early because Will has a business trip the following week.”

“That’s news to me,” she said.

“I could swear we talked about it.”

“Nope.” But then, since she’d left the practice, there were a lot of things she didn’t hear about until the last minute because no one bothered to call her. She figured it was probably her punishment for deviating from their master plan.

“I’m sure I told you, but whatever. Mom booked our regular table at Via Penna. Seven o’clock.”

“I’ll try to be there.”

“You’ll try? What is your problem? You can’t even make time for your family anymore?”

“Jeez, Mary, don’t have a cow. I’ll definitely be there, okay?”

“I’ll see you Friday,” she said, then hung up without saying goodbye.

Jane grumbled to herself and tossed her phone back into the drawer, then pulled it back out, walked to the closet and dropped it into her purse. It didn’t occur to her until several minutes later that since her birthday was the following day, they were probably planning a party. That was probably the reason they were doing it a week early. No wonder Mary had been so insistent on her being there.

It didn’t excuse the curt conversation, or Mary’s bitchy attitude, but it made Jane feel a little better. And a little less like punching her sister in the nose the next time she saw her.