A Clandestine Corporate Affair - By Michelle Celmer Page 0,56
In fact, I can almost guarantee it.”
“So what you’re saying is, I’m screwed.”
“I said if the board finds out. I’m not going to tell them, but I also can’t stop anyone from leaking the information.”
“You don’t think the board will see through his attempts to discredit me?”
“In light of the sabotage, I think the board will see it as a legitimate concern. Our first board meeting of the year is next Wednesday. If it comes up, I will do whatever I can to defuse the situation. But I can’t promise anything. All I can tell you is that unless there is proof of a direct violation to the terms of your contract, your current position is safe. And as far as I’m concerned, there’s no basis whatsoever for termination.”
But his chances at the CEO position were basically in the toilet—and even if they weren’t now, Jordan wouldn’t rest until they were.
Nathan left Adam and walked straight to Jordan’s office, his anger mounting every step he took.
“Is my brother in?” he asked Jordan’s very pregnant secretary.
“Yes, but he asked not to be disturbed.”
I’ll bet he did, Nathan thought, walking right past her desk, ignoring her protests, and shoving through the door. Jordan was sitting behind his desk, feet up, talking on the phone. Startled, he jumped to his feet when Nathan barged in.
“Can I call you back?” he said to whoever was on the line, and after he hung up said, “Geez, Nathan, you ever hear of knocking?”
Nathan slammed the door. “You sleazy, back-stabbing son of a bitch.”
Jordan’s brow rose. “Is there a problem?”
“Do not insult my intelligence. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know it was you who ratted me out? That I’m too stupid to figure it out? This is your idea of a fair fight?”
Jordan shrugged. “The way I look at it, there’s nothing unfair about what I did.”
“And it doesn’t bother you in the least that you just betrayed your own brother?”
He walked casually around his desk, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “This has nothing to do with the fact that we happen to be related. This is business. I’d think you would know the difference.”
Nathan crossed to where his brother stood. “You looked me in the eye and lied to me, Jordan. After all the years I watched out for you, and protected you—”
“Who asked you to?” Jordan growled, so fiercely Nathan actually flinched. “I never needed or wanted your help.”
“You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself, do you?”
“I’m going to beat you, Nathan. And it has nothing to do with experience, or education, or who’s stronger. The fact of the matter is, I’m not screwing the daughter of our direct competitor, and you are.” He stepped closer, getting in Nathan’s face. “Although from what I’ve read, you’re probably not the only one.”
Before he even knew he’d swung, Nathan’s fist connected solidly with Jordan’s jaw, knocking him back several feet. That was how it was with his temper. It came out of nowhere, blindsiding him. And after he’d spent the better part of his childhood protecting his baby brother, never did he imagine being the one doing the hitting.
Jordan dug a handkerchief out of his suit jacket and pressed it to the corner of his bleeding mouth, but he was smiling. “All that therapy, and you still turned out just like him.”
Jordan’s words sliced through Nathan, cutting to the core. He was right. After all these years, hadn’t he learned that using his fists was never the answer?
Suppose someday Ana really pissed him off? Or Max? Would he lose control and hit them, too? He thought being with Ana had changed him, made him a better man, but he had obviously been wrong. He stormed out of Jordan’s office and walked blindly to the elevator. What kind of man would he be if he put his own child and that child’s mother in danger?
A monster. And that was exactly what he was.
He took the elevator down to the lobby and headed out to the parking lot to his car, so rattled that he barely recalled the trip there as he pulled into Ana’s driveway. He used his key to get inside, but she and Max weren’t there.
Good, it was better that way.
He went to the bedroom, grabbed a duffel bag out of the closet and started stuffing his clothes inside, marveling at just how many of his things he’d managed to bring over in a week’s time.
What the hell