Antsy as he was, Chance couldn’t let this slide. In fact, antsy as he was, he was sort of looking forward to a fight.
When the day was done, he took the seat in front of Max’s desk, and Max walked to the tall-back chair behind it. “So what did you think? Does Montgomery Development look like the place you could work for the next twenty or so years?”
Chance smiled wryly. Without even realizing it, his brother was handing him his argument opportunity on a silver platter. He snorted a laugh. “Right to the point, huh?”
“Hey, I don’t know how long you’re going to be here. I have to get to the point.”
“All right. You want to know what I think? I think you’re going to make promises like Dad did then back out of them once you have me here.”
Max gaped at him. “Have the past two days meant nothing to you?”
“You were a charmer just like Dad, Max. And I’m supposed to believe you’ve changed?”
Max’s chair creaked as he leaned back. “Go on.”
“Go on? I’d rather just go before you cheat me or lie to me or withhold important information.”
“Oh.” Max snorted a laugh. “I get what you’re doing. You want me to be just like Dad. You want to make me the bad guy so you can tell Mom you tried, but I’m impossible to work with.” He stood, leaned across the desk. “Get this, little brother. You own one-third of this company. When Mom passes, we’ll each own half. We are stuck with each other. And I don’t want to do all the work myself. I want some help. So let’s just have this out right now.”
Chance rose too, leaned across the desk as Max had done. “Fine. You want to have it out? Let’s start with why you didn’t tell me you knew Dad was my biological father?”
Max leaned closer. “Because I’d only heard office gossip. I wasn’t about to take gossip to you. Now I get a question. If you’re such a great guy who loves Mom so much, why didn’t you at least send a Christmas card in fifteen years?”
“I was angry.”
“Well, la-di-da.”
Just seeing his big, bad brother say, “La-di-da,” sent Chance’s lips to twitching. In a few seconds, he was laughing. “La-di-da?”
Max fell to his seat. “Seemed appropriate at the time.”
Chance laughed again.
Max motioned to his chair. “So you’re afraid to work with me?”
Chance sat. If this was his moment of truth with his brother, then it was going to be a genuine moment of truth. No hedging. No accusations. Just the truth. Because as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t work here. “I can’t trust you, Max.”
“All because I knew something for twenty-four hours without telling you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. But it’s more about Dad. About connections to this place that I can’t seem to shake. I spent fifteen years disliking you. That just doesn’t go away.”
“Fair enough.”
He glanced up sharply. “Fair enough?”
“I think you’re asking for time. I’m happy to give it to you.”
“I just told you I don’t trust you and you’re telling me that you’ll give me time?”
“Time to come to terms with everything. Time to trust me.” He leaned his chair back again. “Chance, I’m an alcoholic who had to make amends to at least half the people in town. I’ve had to be patient while nearly everyone I knew got adjusted to the new me. I’d be a real idiot if I couldn’t wait for my own brother to adjust.”
Chance said nothing. He’d never heard such sincerity come from anyone. And if there was anyone he longed to give a second chance, it was Max. The older brother he’d at one time adored.
Max steepled his fingers and tapped them against his mouth for a few seconds before he opened the top drawer of his desk. “Since we’re being honest and up front and open and all that great stuff—” he tossed a manila envelope at him “—this is yours.”
Chance didn’t even reach for the envelope. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
He lifted the envelope, opened it and pulled out a stack of at least five annual statements for Montgomery Development.
“You want me to see how well the company’s done or the history of what you’ve changed since Dad died?”
“I’ve been catching you up the past few days. Those annual statements are for you to check numbers.”