A Clandestine Corporate Affair(58)

“Don’t think this changes anything,” Jordan said. “When it comes to the CEO position I’m going to leave you in the dust. Then I’ll be your boss. Think how much fun that will be.”

“You have to get through me first.”

Jordan grinned, turned and walked out of Nathan’s office.

Nathan sat there for a minute, a little stunned, trying to process what had just happened, what had been resolved, and trying to figure out what it meant, but it felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He needed to get out of here. He needed fresh air, a chance to clear his head and really think.

He grabbed his coat and headed out of his office, telling his secretary to cancel all his appointments and that he would be back later that day.

Maybe. The truth was, he didn’t know where he was going or how long he would be there. The way he was feeling, he could get in the car, pick a direction and never look back.

Instead, after driving in circles for a while, he found himself in the last place he’d ever expected to be. His father’s house.





Sixteen





The Everette family estate looked exactly as it had the last time Nathan was there ten years ago, and ten years before that. In his entire life he didn’t think it had changed much.

Maybe that should have been a comfort, but it wasn’t.

He had no idea why he was here or what he planned to do, but suddenly he was out of the car and walking up to the porch. It was as if he was following some predetermined flight plan he had absolutely no control over.

He climbed the front steps and stopped at the door, raising his hand to knock. Then he dropped it back down to his side.

What the hell was he doing? There was a damned good reason he’d spent the last ten years avoiding this place. Avoiding his father. This wouldn’t solve anything.

He turned to leave, stopping as his foot hit the first step, unable to go any farther. Damn it. Somehow he knew that until he did this, until he faced his father, he wouldn’t be able to move on with his life. He would be caught in a perpetual cycle of self-doubt from which he might never break free. He needed to do this for himself, and for Max.

Before he could change his mind, he walked back to the door and rapped hard. Besides, what were the odds that he would be home at two in the afternoon anyway?

The housekeeper opened the door. When she saw who was standing there, she slapped a hand to her bosom, which along with her middle seemed to have expanded over the years, and her hair was more silver than the pale blond it used to be. “Nathan! My goodness, it’s been years!”

“Hi, Sylvia. Is my father by any chance home?”

“As a matter of fact he is. He’s just getting over a cold, so he’s working from home today.”

Dumb fricking luck. “Can you tell him I’m here?”

“Of course! Come on inside. Can I take your coat?”

“I can’t stay long.”

“Well, I’ll go get him then.”

She hurried off in the direction of the study while Nathan looked around. Unlike the outside, someone had given the interior a major overhaul. The gaudy and nauseating pastels his mother had been so fond of had been replaced with a more Southwestern feel. Probably one of his father’s multiple wives made the change.

“Nathan! What a surprise!”

He turned to see his father walking toward him, and blinked with surprise. For some reason he expected him to look exactly as he had the last time he’d seen him. And though only ten years had passed it looked as though he had aged double that. His hair was more salt than pepper and his face was a roadmap of lines and wrinkles. He was the same height he’d always been, but he seemed smaller somehow, a scaled-down version of his former self. In slacks, a button-down plaid shirt and a pullover sweater, he looked more like Mister Rogers than the monster Nathan remembered.

“Hi, Dad.”

“I would shake your hand but I’m just getting over a terrible cold. I wouldn’t want to risk passing my germs along to you.”

“I appreciate that.” Besides, he wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries.

“Why don’t we sit in my study? Can I get you a drink?”

“I can’t stay long.”

“Your brother tells me you’re both competing for the CEO position at Western Oil.”

That shouldn’t have raised his hackles, but it did. “I didn’t come here to talk about Jordan,” he snapped.