Much More Than a Mistress. Michelle Celmer

was probably going to need it.

      Three

      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