Much More Than A Mistress

She gestured helplessly at his damp shirt. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I keep an extra shirt in the closet for emergencies. You could grab it for me while I clean up.”

“Of course,” she said, scrambling for the closet.

Jordan walked to the bathroom in his office, unbuttoning his shirt. Some of the coffee had hit his pants too, but as luck would have it, he’d worn his brown suit that morning.

He dropped his shirt on the bathroom floor, and peeled his coffee-soaked undershirt over his head. Maybe she wasn’t an agency operative after all. Or was this just all part of a clever disguise? A ruse to throw him off the trail?

“Mr. Everette?” she called from his office.

“In here.” He wet a washcloth in the sink and wiped the coffee from his face and chest.

“Here’s your …”

Jordan turned to see Miss Monroe in the bathroom doorway, eyes wide and fixed somewhere between his neck and his belt. She blinked and quickly looked away, a red hue creeping up from the neckline of her blouse. Why would an above-average-looking woman who practically oozed sexuality blush at the sight of a shirtless man?

Interesting.

Eyes averted, she held out the hanger with his clean shirt. “Here you go.”

He took it, brushing his fingers against hers as he did, and she jerked her hand away.

Very interesting.

“Are you going to fire me?” she asked.

Why bother? They would just send a new agency person in.

“Did you do it on purpose?” he asked.

She blinked in surprise and cut her eyes to him. “Of course not!”

He hooked the hanger on the towel rack, tugged the clean undershirt free and pulled it over his head. “Then why would I fire you?”

She pulled her lip between her teeth again, and it brought to mind nibbling on a plump red cherry. He wondered if she had the slightest clue how sexy she looked when she did that. The coy bit had to be an act.

He pulled on his shirt and buttoned it. “In answer to your question, yes.”

“My question?”

“I would love a cup of coffee. Although this time I’d rather not wear it.”

Her lips tilted into an embarrassed smile. “Of course.”

“My cup is on my desk.” He unfastened his belt and the button on his pants so he could tuck in his shirt, stifling a grin when she quickly looked away again.

“I—I’ll go get it now,” she said, tripping over her own foot in her haste to get away.

He had the feeling that, until she discovered that the evidence she was hoping to find didn’t exist and gave up, he could have an awful lot of fun at her expense.

The spike heels had been a really bad idea, Jane decided as she grabbed Mr. Everette’s World’s Best Boss cup from his desk and hurried to the break room, heart pounding from a combination of her own horrifying ineptitude and supreme lack of grace, and the sight of her new boss standing shamelessly bare-chested in her presence.

Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. His body—what she could see of it anyway—was a work of art. And she was betting that the bottom half was no less awe-inspiring. So much for her theory that he was middle-aged and fat. That’s what she got for drawing hasty conclusions.

Some vampy, sex goddess secretary she’d turned out to be. She couldn’t have made more of an ass out of herself if she’d dressed like a clown and donned a squeaky red nose. Proof that despite her physical transformation, deep down she was just as geeky and awkward as ever. Had she been completely fooling herself to believe that she could handle an undercover position?

She poured the coffee and added a teaspoon of creamer, mentally shaking away those negative thoughts. She could do this, damn it. She was good enough. She had been working up to this for months. Failure was not an option.

Squaring her shoulders, she carried the coffee back to Mr. Everette’s office. She rapped lightly on the door before stepping inside, grateful to see that he was fully clothed and sitting at his desk. He was also on the phone, meaning she didn’t have to talk to him. It was both a disappointment and a relief. If she was going to glean the information necessary for the investigation, she was going to have to talk to the man. Get to know him. Earn his trust.

He gestured her over, telling the caller, “I’m sure it was just an oversight.”

She crossed the room, the cup cradled gingerly in both palms, and set it on his desk. She started to turn, but he held up a hand, signaling her to wait. “Yes, Mother, I promise I’ll talk to him today.” He paused, looking exasperated, then said, “Well, in all fairness, you ditched us on Christmas. Can you blame Nathan if he’s feeling bitter?”

She could only assume he was talking about his brother Nathan, who was the CBO of Western Oil. Having worked closely with her own siblings for years, she knew how complicated the family dynamic could be. Especially when one broke tradition and made the decision to leave the fold to pursue their own aspirations. Not that she had a clue how the Everette family got along. Although most men in a decent relationship with their mother wouldn’t have them on an auto callback list.

“The fact that he was a baron doesn’t make it okay,” he said, holding up a finger to indicate that it would be just one more minute. “I have to go, Mother, I—” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I will talk to him. I promise.” Another short pause then, “Okay, Mother. Goodbye.” He hung up the phone, blew out an exasperated breath and looked up at Jane. “Do you get along with your mother, Miss Monroe?”

The question threw her, and it took her a second to regroup. It wasn’t that she didn’t get along with her parents. They just refused to accept that they didn’t know what was better for her than she did. And she couldn’t help wondering why he cared about her relationship with her mother. “It’s … complicated.”

“Well, mine is a gigantic pain in the ass. She’s a master manipulator and will browbeat you to within an inch of your life to get what she wants. You have to be firm and direct or she will walk all over you.”

“I understand,” she said, although firm and direct were never two of her strong suits. Her own family had been walking all over her for years. But she had broken the cycle, hadn’t she? Well, for the most part anyway. She tended to just avoid them now. And, yes, bent the truth when it made her life easier.

“Would you mind pouring that coffee into a travel mug?” he asked. “There should be one in the cabinet over by the wet bar.”

“Of course.” She carried his cup to the bar across the room, asking casually, “Are you leaving?”

“I have a meeting at the refinery.”

That would give her time to snoop in his office. Her heart surged with nervous energy. She found the cup where he’d indicated and as she poured the coffee in, her hands were shaking.

Relax, she told herself, taking a deep breath.

She could just imagine how impressed her superiors would be if she were able to bring them valuable information on her very first day. Then they would have to take her seriously.

It took a couple of tries but she secured the top on the cup and turned, jerking with surprise when she almost ran face-first into Mr. Everette. He was so close, she could smell the soapy-fresh scent of his skin. If the cup hadn’t had a lid, they would probably both be wearing coffee this time.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, but the grin he wore said otherwise. Was he teasing her? Were the makeup and the clothes actually working?

He took the cup from her, the tips of his fingers brushing against hers as he did and she tried not to flinch. He set it on the counter beside the sink. “I think we’d all be safer if you didn’t carry that around.”

She felt herself blushing. “Sorry.”

With a grin that was nothing short of adorable, he stepped past her to the closet next to the bathroom and pulled out his coat.

“Is there anything you need me to do while you’re gone?” she asked as he shrugged into it.

“Just man the phones and take the day to get settled in. Familiarize yourself with the computer. I have a lunch meeting at twelve-thirty so I should be back sometime before two.”

Which would give her lots of time to snoop. No, not snoop … investigate. She had to start thinking like a pro, using the appropriate lingo. She had to play the part, even in her own mind. If she didn’t take herself seriously, no one would.

“I should take you out sometime,” he said.

She blinked. Did he seriously just ask her on a date? And how was she supposed to respond to that? What would a sophisticated woman of the world say?

All she could manage was a befuddled, “Um …”

“I’m assuming you’ve never been to a refinery.”

Oh, he wanted to take her to the refinery. That made a lot more sense. “No, never.”

“It’s an impressive operation,” he said, and she must have looked wary, because he added, “and contrary to what you’ve probably seen on the news, it’s completely safe.”

She had heard negative press about the incident at the refinery, but the agency had several employees working undercover directly on the line, and as far as she was aware, none of them had ever reported being in any danger. Sure, this was a high-profile case, but the other agents would never be sent into a situation that could cause them physical harm.

“I’d love to see it,” she said.

“I’m there several days a week, so maybe the next time I go.” He glanced at the platinum Rolex on his left wrist. “I’m late. If there’s anything pressing while I’m gone, or something you aren’t sure about, feel free to call my cell.”

“I will.” She handed him his cup, careful to avoid his fingers this time because frankly, she was nervous enough without all the intimate contact.

Cup in hand, he headed for the door. She followed him, stopping at her desk.

“By the way,” he said, stopping in the doorway and gesturing the coffee stain on the carpet. “Call janitorial to take care of that.”

“I will.” Later.

He flashed her one last knee-melting smile, then left.

Here we go.

She stood there and counted to sixty, gauging the amount of time it would take him to get to the elevator and get inside, then she walked down the hall. The elevator doors were just closing as she stepped into the reception area.

“Did Mr. Everette leave yet?” she asked Jen.

“You just missed him, hon.”

“Well, darn,” she said, pretending to be discouraged.

“Did he forget something?” She put her hand on the phone. “Should I call down to the guard post in the lobby?”

“That’s okay. It’s nothing urgent. I just had a question, but it can wait until he gets back.” It was a lie, of course. She just needed to be sure that he was really gone.

Jen smiled. “How’s the first day going so far?”

With the exception of dumping hot coffee on her new boss and making a complete ass out of herself? “Pretty good.”

“If you’re interested, the secretaries are all going out for lunch today. You’re welcome to join us.”

She was inclined to say no, since she wanted to take as much time as possible in Mr. Everette’s office, but she didn’t want the other secretaries to think she was a snob either. She might learn something valuable from any one of them. Things that they may not even realize were important to the investigation.

She smiled and said, “I’d love to go. What time?”

“Noon. There’s a café across the street. Just a few minutes’ walk. The temperature is supposed to climb to forty, so it shouldn’t be too cold.”

“Sounds great,” she said, cringing inwardly. It wasn’t the cold she was worried about, but her aching feet. She should have brought a pair of flat shoes as a backup.

Jen smiled. “Great, see you at noon.”

Jane walked back to the desk and kicked off her shoes. She wanted to be able to move quickly, in case someone happened to come by. If someone did, and they asked what she was doing in Mr. Everette’s office, she would simply say that she’d spilled coffee on her jacket and was using the fabric stain remover she had seen on his bathroom shelf.

She opened the closet and rifled through her purse for the jump drive that Kenneth in Tech had given her at her briefing that morning. She was just hoping Mr. Everette’s computer wasn’t password protected. She doubted he would have any personal financial files at work, but she could at least get a look at his email. People sent personal emails from work all the time.

She slipped the jump drive in her pocket, heart pounding with both fear and excitement, and turned toward Mr. Everette’s office, but before she could take a step, the phone started to ring.

Damn it!

She picked it up. “Good morning, Mr. Everette’s office.”

“Miss Monroe, this is Bren, in Mr. Blair’s office. He’d like a word with you.”

Her heart jumped. Why would the CEO want to see her? Had she done something wrong?

Of course she hadn’t. Other than the coffee fiasco, that is, and unless they had a surveillance camera in her office, there was no way he could have found out about that. Maybe he just wanted to talk to her about the case. “I’ll be right down.”

She took the jump drive from her pocket and slipped it in the top drawer of her desk, crammed her feet back into her shoes and walked down to Mr Blair’s office at the opposite end of the hall.

“Go on in,” Mr. Blair’s secretary said. “They’re waiting for you.”

Jane stopped so abruptly she wobbled on her heels. “They?”

“Mr. Blair, Mr. Suarez and Mr. Everette.” She paused and said, “The other Mr. Everette.”

Suddenly Jane was having a tough time pulling in a full breath.

She thought she was just meeting with the CEO, which was intimidating enough. But to be in the same room with the CEO, CFO and CBO all at the same time? No wonder she felt faint. Meeting clients as a lawyer had never been a big deal, but then, she knew the law so well she could practice it in her sleep. The investigation business … not so much. She was still learning, and there was nothing she hated more than looking as though she didn’t know what she was talking about.

Bren must have sensed that she was on the verge of a panic attack because she flashed Jane a reassuring smile and said, “Don’t worry, they don’t bite.”

Jane tried to smile, when what she wanted to do was turn and run in the opposite direction.

“I’m sure they just want to ask you about the investigation.”

Jane blinked. “The what?”

“It’s okay, Miss Monroe. What Mr. Blair knows, I know.”

Mr. Blair obviously trusted his secretary implicitly, which could definitely work in Jane’s favor.

“You know,” Bren said, lowering her voice, “we all like and respect Mr. Everette, and no one wants to believe he could have anything to with the sabotage. The sooner this investigation is over with, the better. If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

“Thanks. And we’ll get to the bottom of this,” she told Bren, hoping to convey a competence she was nowhere close to feeling.

Jane turned to the door, pulled back her shoulders, and took a deep breath. “Well, I guess I’d better get in there.”

Bren smiled and said, “Good luck.”

Considering that her knees were actually knocking, she had the feeling she 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 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.”