Much More Than a Mistress (4 page)

“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.

G
rinning to himself, Jordan walked down the hall to his brother's office. He had to hand it to Miss Monroe, she was quick on her feet.

He had figured there was a good chance when he came back early from the meeting, that he himself had cancelled, he would catch Miss Monroe snooping around. He was curious to see what sort of excuse she could come up with, and he was disappointed to not find her in his office. She wasn't at her desk either. It had taken one call down to his brother's secretary Lynn to learn that Miss Monroe had first been in Adam's office, then Nathan's. Until that moment Jordan had held out the hope that maybe his brother didn't know Adam was having him investigated. Not much chance of that now.

“I just need a minute,” Jordan told Lynn when he reached Nathan's office. Then, as usual, instead of waiting to be announced, he walked right in. Mostly because he knew it would irritate the hell out of Nathan.

And it did. He jerked with surprise and said, “Jesus, Jordan, don't you ever knock?”

He had been reading something in a manila file and shut it quickly as Jordan approached his desk. Making Jordan instantly suspicious.

“Tell me you didn't deliberately forget to send our mother an invitation to your wedding.”

Nathan sighed. “I take it she called you.”

“Of course she called me. She's very upset.”

He shrugged. “And I'm supposed to care
why?
”

Sometimes Jordan got so sick of being the go-between with Nathan and their parents. “Nathan, come on.”

“To be honest, I didn't think she would care if she was invited or not.”

“Well, apparently she does. She said she hasn't even seen Max yet.” Max was the infant son Nathan hadn't even known he had until recently. He was the result of an affair Nathan had with the daughter of the owner of a rival oil company. If there was one thing Jordan could say about his brother, he liked to live on the edge, although lately he'd begun to act like a full-fledged family man.

“Did she happen to mention that I invited her over to meet Ana and Max last week, but something more important came up and she called it off at the last minute?”

“No, she left that part out.” That was typical of their mother. Both the calling off and the leaving out part. She would say pretty much anything to make herself the victim.

“She had her chance,” Nathan said. “I'm through catering to her whims. And for the life of me, I don't know why you still put up with it.”

Neither did he. He wasn't going to deny that their mother was self-absorbed and narcissistic. That said, she was the only mother they had. And there was still a tiny part of him, a shadow of the awkward little boy who would do practically anything to win her attention.

“She sounded genuinely upset,” he said.

Nathan's expression was deadpan. “My heart bleeds for her.”

“Maybe she realizes that if she ever wants to see one of her sons get married, this might be her only chance. And possibly her only chance for grandchildren.”

“She doesn't care about Max. She's already warned me that when he starts talking he is forbidden from calling her grandma. She said it would make her feel too old.”

Jordan winced. “I'm sure she'll feel differently when she gets closer to him,” he said, although honestly, he didn't know if even he believed that. Their mother hadn't had much of an interest in her own sons when they were small. They interfered too much with her social life. He and Nathan were raised primarily by the nanny.

But sometimes people were more open to the idea of children when it was someone else's child. Jordan was in no way, shape or form ready to have children of his own, and probably never would be, but he liked to tussle with little Max. He could have the fun without the responsibility.

“This has nothing to do with me getting married, or Max. She's just pissed off because she knows I invited Dad.”

Jordan's jaw actually dropped. Until a few weeks ago, Nathan and their father hadn't spoken a word to each other in almost ten years, and Jordan had been on both their backs for ages, trying to persuade them to reconnect. Jordan understood why Nathan was hesitant. He and their father had a pretty volatile relationship, one that had often turned physically violent. But that was a long time ago and their father had mellowed since then. He also felt a lot of guilt and regret for the way that he'd treated Nathan. And though Jordan would never admit it, especially to Nathan, he felt his own share of guilt.

When they were kids, Jordan had been a late bloomer and Nathan had taken it upon himself to act as Jordan's protector. Instead of teaching Jordan to defend himself, Nathan took the knocks for him. It left Jordan feeling weak, small and resentful of his older brother. In rebellion he began getting Nathan in trouble on purpose, setting him up, knowing their father would take it out of his hide. It had, for a time, left Nathan with some serious anger management issues. Only recently, when Nathan nearly gave up his son because of it, did Jordan realize how deeply his manipulating had affected his brother.

Actually inviting their father to the wedding was a huge step for Nathan. Jordan had begun to think that maybe it was time he and Nathan began to repair their own relationship, time that they let go of the resentment. But now with the sabotage, and the accusations…well, it could be a while before they resolved anything.

“I think it's great that you invited him,” Jordan said.

Nathan shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. “Ana insisted.”

Ana could insist until she was blue, but Nathan wouldn't have done it unless he wanted to. “And would it really be so terrible to invite Mom, too?”

“I put up with her crap for years because besides you, she was the only family I had. Well, I have my own family now, and I don't need her any longer.”

Jordan propped his hands on Nathan's desk and leaned in. “All I'm asking is that you give her one more chance. If she blows it this time I swear I won't ever nag you about her again.”

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“Because you're a good person, Nathan. Better than her, better than Dad. And I'll deny it if you repeat this, but at times even better than me. And though Mom will never
admit it, not inviting her hurt her feelings, and you aren't the kind of guy who hurts people's feelings. And the guilt you're going to feel isn't worth the view from that moral high horse you're on.”

“Wow.” Nathan shook his head. “And here I thought you were just as shallow and self-absorbed as she is.”

“It'll be our secret.”

Nathan was quiet for a minute, then he blew out a breath and said, “All right, fine. One more chance. But if she blows it this time, that's it.”

“Fair enough. Are you going to call and tell her?”

Nathan glared at him.

“Or I could do it,” Jordan said. He hoped his mom came through this time, because he was tired of making excuses for her. In fact, if she let them down again, it might be enough to push him over the edge as well. And who knows, maybe it would snap some sense into her if both her sons shut her out.

“That reminds me, we haven't gotten your RSVP yet,” Nathan said.

“It's on my to-do list. But you know I'll be there.”

“I assume you'll be bringing a date.”

“At least one. No more than three.”

Nathan shot him a “get real” look.

“What? I'm in pretty high demand.”

“So,” Nathan said, leaning back in his chair. “Getting back to what you were saying earlier, since I'm the
better
man, I guess that means you don't plan to fight me for the CEO position.”

Jordan laughed. “I've got to get back to work.”

He turned and crossed the room, and as he was walking out the door his brother called after him, “You know, you're not as smart as you think you are.”

Yes, he was.

There was nothing to fight over because the CEO spot was already his. Though no one had come right out and said it, Nathan's engagement to Ana Birch—whose father owned Birch Energy, their direct competitor—had killed his chances at the big chair. Even worse, Walter Birch was suspected of conspiring in the sabotage. Even if Jordan did back out, Nathan didn't have a shot in hell.

Emilio Suarez, who was also in the running, married a woman whose ex-husband was responsible for one of the largest Ponzi schemes in a decade, and had dragged her name through the mud with his own. Though the charges against her had been dropped, there were a lot of people who still held her partially responsible for the millions they lost. The CFO of a billion-dollar corporation did not marry a woman linked to financial fraud without serious repercussions.

On top of that, Jordan had played an important role in Western Oil's recent success. He firmly believed that happy workers were productive workers. He appreciated and respected each and every man in that refinery, and that respect was returned unconditionally. Since he took over as COO, productivity had jumped by nearly fifteen percent.

As far as he was concerned, he had the position in the bag. It was just a matter of waiting for the announcement to make it official.

When he got back to his office, Jane was studying something on her computer monitor.

“Any problems with using the system,” he asked.

“I'm familiar with this operating system and most of the programs. What I don't know, I'll figure out.”

“Great, because starting this afternoon I have a mountain of work that needs catching up.”

“That's why I'm here.”

Or so he was supposed to believe. He just hoped that while she dug into his personal life—or at least tried to—she also was competent enough to get some
real
work done. And after hours, when the work was finished, the fun would begin.

 

Sometime before lunch it started to rain, so instead of walking to the restaurant, the secretaries decided to order in and ate lunch together in the break room. It was a huge relief for Jane, as she began to doubt if she would have even been able to make it to the lobby in the torture devices they had the nerve to call shoes. And though Jordan left for lunch, and she could have spent that hour in his office trying to get into his email and files, she was glad that she'd taken the opportunity to get to know the other secretaries in the office. Not that she'd gleaned any new information, but she'd begun to build a base of trust that might come in handy later.

There was a sense of camaraderie between the women that was completely foreign to her. At Edwin Associates she worked mostly with men who barely gave her the time of day, and in her parents' practice…well, her siblings had to be the most competitive people on the planet. Sometimes she felt smothered under the weight of their enormous egos. Here, everyone seemed to like and respect one another. It was a nice change.

Jane returned to her desk at one, and Jordan walked in fifteen minutes later. After that, he didn't leave the office for the rest of the day, so she didn't get another chance to investigate. But she did make a good-size dent in that pile of work he'd warned her about. In fact, she was so engrossed in what she was doing, Jordan had to remind her at seven-thirty to leave.

“Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

“No need to apologize,” he said, leaning in his office doorway, tie loosened, looking slightly rumpled and attractive as hell. He was the sort of guy that no matter what he wore—be it a tailored suit or a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt—he would make a girl's heart beat a little faster. “Most temps are out the door at five on the nose. If you're trying to impress me, it's working.”

Honestly, she really had just lost track of time. When she got her head in the zone, the rest of the world ceased to exist, and hours passed like minutes. Besides, it wasn't as if she had anything to go home to.

“I can stay if you need me,” she told him, realizing right after she said it how terribly pathetic it was that her social life was so barren, she would rather stay at work. She could tell herself that she simply wanted to stay until after he left, so she could have unlimited access to his office, but it would be a lie.

Even more pathetic was the disappointment she felt when he said, “Go home, Jane.” Then it occurred to her that all day he had referred to her as Miss Monroe, and now he had used her first name. She'd never been too crazy about her name, but the way he said it, in that smooth-as-velvet voice, made her feel warm all over.

She shut down her computer, slipped her shoes back on, and stood. Following a full afternoon off her feet, they had stopped hurting, but she knew that by the time she made it to her car she would probably be in agony again.

“So,” he said, as she got her coat and purse out of the closet. “How would you rate your first day?”

“Besides spilling coffee on my new boss, I'd say it was all right.” She dropped her purse on the desk to put on her coat, but before she could, he took it from her and helped her into it. It was very gentlemanly of him, and she couldn't help wondering if he did it for his regular secretary.

“Thank you,” she said, turning back to him and grabbing her purse. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“I'll walk you down.”

To the lobby? “Oh…you don't have to—”

“I won't be out of here for a couple of hours. I could use a few minutes' break.” He gestured to the open door. “After you.”

For some reason the thought of being in the elevator alone with him so late in the evening gave her a serious case of the jitters. She wasn't used to being around men who were so blatantly sexy. Not to mention flirty. What if he came on to her? What would she do?

Of course he wouldn't come on to her. She barely knew him. Besides, if he were some sort of sexual deviant, she was sure she would have heard about it at lunch, but the other women had nothing but good things to say about him.