men in the refinery. They respected and trusted Jordan. If they knew there were agency operatives working undercover among them and thought that Jordan was a part of it, that respect and trust would be lost. That was too important to sacrifice, especially now.
Besides, as of the last report that had landed on Nathan’s desk, the agency hadn’t made any progress in the investigation and was no closer to learning who tampered with the equipment. And Jordan had seemed particularly antsy to get results lately. He valued each and every man at the refinery, and he didn’t want to believe that someone he trusted could be responsible for the explosion.
“Nothing new,” he told his brother.
“If there were, would you tell me?”
He didn’t answer.
Jordan shook his head. “That’s what I figured.”
If he thought for a second that he could trust his brother, he would tell him the truth, but Jordan would only take the information and use it to benefit himself. Everything was a competition to him. He was convinced that was why Jordan fought for the CEO position at Western Oil. It was some sort of twisted sibling rivalry.
“Anything else?” Nathan asked him.
“Nope, that’s it,” Jordan said, then added on his way out the door, “Don’t forget to call Mom.”
He should probably do that now before he forgot. Hopefully he could make it quick. He picked up the phone and dialed his mother’s place and the housekeeper answered. “Your mother is with her bridge club, Mr. Everette. You can try her cell.”
“Could you just let her know that I got her message and I’ll bring the wine for Christmas dinner?”
“Of course, sir.”
After he hung up, he sat back in his chair and considered all the work he should get done this afternoon, and weighed it against spending time with Max and Ana. They won, hands down.
He shut down his computer, got up and grabbed his overcoat. His secretary, Lynn, looked up as he walked past, clearly surprised to see him in his coat.
“I’m taking off early today. Would you please cancel my appointments for the rest of the day?”
Her brow furrowed with worry. “Is everything okay?”
It was pretty sad to know that he was so chained to his job, he couldn’t leave work early without his secretary thinking something was wrong. “Fine. I just have a few personal things I need to take care of. I’ll be in early tomorrow. Call me if anything urgent comes up.”
He ran into Adam, the CEO, on the way to the elevator.
Adam looked at his watch. “Did I fall asleep at my desk? Is it after eight already?”
Nathan grinned. “I’m leaving early. Personal time.”
“Everything okay?”
“Just a few things I need to take care of. By the way, how is Katie?” Adam’s wife, Katie, lived two hours away in Peckins, Texas, a small farming community, where she and Adam were currently building a house and awaiting the birth of their first baby.
“She’s great. Getting huge already.”
Nathan was sure the long-distance relationship had to be tough, but Adam’s beaming grin said they were making it work. Nathan wondered what it would be like to be that happy, that content as a family man. Unfortunately, he would never know.
“She’s actually in town this week,” Adam said. “She was thinking of having a small holiday gathering this Saturday. Just a few people from work and a couple of friends. I don’t suppose you could make it.”
He had been hoping to spend Saturday evening with Ana and Max, but with the CEO position in the balance, now wasn’t a good time to be turning down invitations from the boss. “I’ll check my schedule and let you know.”
“It’s last-minute, I know. Try to make it if you can.”
“I will.”
Nathan was stopped two more times on his way to the elevator, then he was corralled into the coffee shop in the building lobby briefly before he finally made it out the door and to his car. He stopped at home to change, noting as he stepped in the door the absolute lack of anything even remotely festive. He didn’t even bother to display the Christmas cards that had been arriving in a steady stream the past couple of weeks. He never decorated for the holidays. He didn’t have the time or, truthfully, the inclination. Most of his Christmas memories were the kind better off forgotten.
When he bought this place five years ago he’d had it professionally decorated, mainly because he didn’t have time to do it himself. It was aesthetically pleasing,