“It’s clear he was just using you to get to your money.”
She sucked in a breath. Her hands locked together in her lap. Her voice was low and deadly. “Why is that clear, Grant? Because I’m ugly?”
He blanched. “No, of course not. You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“It’s just . . . Ah, hell, Elise. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Look at you like what?” Brenna came in the side door, an empty jug of paintball ammo balanced on her hip. She was splattered with pink and yellow, her face was flushed, and a wide grin was on her face. “Grant, baby, you should have seen the look on Pop’s face when I nailed him right in the nut sack—” She broke off, giving them both puzzled looks. “Who died?”
“No one died,” Grant said tightly. “My sister was just having a conversation with me.”
“Yes,” Elise said, letting sarcasm slide into her voice. It was either that or reach across the desk and strangle her brother. She looked over at Brenna. “My brother was just telling me that he ran off Rome because it was clear he was using me to get to my money.”
“What?” Brenna gave Grant an incredulous look. “Are you the reason why he’s gone? Seriously, babe? Why?”
“Elise has a trust fund,” Grant said in a tight voice. His arms crossed over his chest and he glanced back between his fiancée and his sister. “It’s obvious that he found out about it and was seducing her to get his hands on that money.”
Brenna snorted. “Why? Because he has tattoos?”
“And because I’m so ugly?” Elise pointed out again.
“No! Jesus Christ.” Grant got to his feet, clearly agitated. “You’re ganging up on me and I can’t think.”
“You’re kind of being a dick, baby.” Brenna said, her hand on her hip. “Admit it. You never liked Rome because he’s scary-looking.”
“He’s not scary looking,” Elise protested. “He’s beautiful.”
Now both of them turned to stare at her.
“And I seduced him,” Elise pointed out. “He didn’t come after me. I approached him and asked him out. If there was any interest there, I instigated it.”
“But Elise, you’re so shy and trusting—”
“And clearly she must be stuuuuupid,” Brenna added, fluttering her eyelashes at Grant. “Clearly that’s why you’re making all the decisions for her.”
He gave Brenna a cross look. “You’re not helping.”
“I love you, honey, but I call a spade a spade, or a tool a tool. And if you ran Rome off, you’re being a tool. That man needed this job. He didn’t have two pennies to rub together and was desperate. I never saw a guy so happy to have a roof over his head.”
Elise’s stomach clenched at Brenna’s words. Rome had been so pleased with that small cabin. She’d simply assumed that it was because he liked working there, but maybe it was because it was his first place to call his own. She needed answers and they weren’t forthcoming.
Grant shook his head and pulled a piece of paper out of his desk drawer. “Look, I didn’t want to talk about this, but I had a chat with Rome. He’s a felon. Actually, he’s an ex-con.” He handed the sheet of paper to Elise. “I ran a background check on him after we hired him and pulled up a rap sheet a mile long. So if I seem a little overprotective, that’s why.”
Elise took the paper with trembling fingers. John Lozada III, the paper read.
Education—unavailable.
Criminal activity—Possession of narcotics with intent to distribute. Plea deal. Served time—Huntsville State Prison, six-year sentence, four years served. Charges of fraud—dismissed. Sealed juvenile record.
Credit—Extremely poor. This individual has outstanding bad debt in multiple states. Filed bankruptcy in 1997. Three vehicles repossessed in the last ten years.
She swallowed. On paper, it sounded horrible. She read the prison sentence over and over again. It didn’t make sense. Rome had never even so much as smoked near her. Any time she drank to excess, he made sure she was safe. He didn’t strike her as a drug dealer.
She was silent for a long moment, thinking of Rome. His ready smile and quick offers to pay for everything when he took his “girl” out. The protective way he looked after her when she was uncomfortable. The sad look he’d gotten in his eyes when they were feeding the seagulls. He’d commented that they were just hungry and trying to eat, and she’d gone on and on about how seagulls were scavengers and disgusting. And that had hurt Rome’s feelings, and she hadn’t understood why.
Oh god, she was such a privileged jerk, wasn’t she?
Looking at the sheet, she wondered about his story. When had he gone hungry? When had he done without? There was more here that she wasn’t getting.
After a moment, she handed the paper back to Grant. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s not to understand? The man’s a criminal. It’s all on paper.” He thumped it.
“Oh, come on,” Brenna butted in. “Who doesn’t have a police record in this day and age?”
Both Markhams turned and looked at her.
Brenna gave them a sunny smile. “Jaywalking. Lots and lots of jaywalking.” And she sauntered over to her desk.
Grant looked as if he wanted to go over to her and quiz her, but he forced himself to look back at Elise. “You’re asking me why I was concerned about you with that man? This is why.” He shook the paper at her. “This is why I wanted my vulnerable baby sister staying away from a guy like him.”
Elise considered the paper for a long moment, and then she looked up at Grant. “That’s not him.”
“What do you mean, that’s not him? It’s his social security number.”
She shook her head. “That’s not who he is, though. That’s not Rome.”
“You sure about that?”
“Has he ever tried to sell drugs to anyone while he was here?” Elise asked.
“No, but—”
“Borrowed money from anyone?”
“I think he borrowed five from me once,” Brenna called out, then held up a hand. “Wait, never mind. I borrowed it from him. Carry on.”
Elise turned back to her brother and arched an eyebrow. “Well?”
“He’s never done anything,” Brenna volunteered when Grant was silent. “Actually, he’s a really good employee, considering we pay him shit.”