He touches his fingertips to his desk. “Have you thought about what I showed you at the Christmas party?”
Is he talking about that background check he did on Rowan? I briefly considered telling Rowan about it, but it was so ridiculous and out of pocket that I decided to spare him. He doesn’t need to concern himself with Brett’s tantrums. What does it matter if there's no record of him being in New York? I’m sure it’s just some kind of a mistake, or there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation. “Not at all.”
His expression darkens. “Why are you so determined to turn a blind eye to—"
“Towhat, Brett? Trust me, I know Rowan isn’t perfect. But unlike you, he’s been unfailingly honest with me, and it’s a lot easier to see past a person’s flaws when they’re honest.”
He slams his fist against his desk. “Goddamn it, Blake. He hasn’t been honest with you. That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”
“You’ve got no real proof of anything. You’re just trying to start shit.”
“What proof do you need that he’s a scumbag? Tell me, and I’ll get it for you.”
Doesn’t Brett understand that the more he attacks Rowan, the more I feel the urge to defend him?
“That’s not how things work. You don’t get to accuse a person of a crime based on absolutely nothing and then try to find evidence that fits.”
“Him and that friend of his appeared out of nowhere with enough cash to buy a business. And then he bought the Jackson house too. Don’t you think it’s suspicious? Where did he get all that money?”
I have no idea. But that’s none of my business. “You’re not the only person with money in the world, Brett.”
“If things were going so well for him wherever he was before he came here, why move to Darkwater Hollow?”
“He wanted a fresh start. Who am I to judge that? If I’d managed to sell my house before it burned down, I would have done the same thing.”
Surprise colors Brett’s expression. “Hold on. You were trying to sell your house?”
Shit. Why did I say that? I didn’t want him to know about my plans. What if he tells Uncle Lyle?
I wait for the panic to hit. It doesn’t. What can Brett or my godfather do to me if Rowan’s got my back?
I trust Rowan to protect me.The realization spreads warmth through my chest.
I meet Brett’s gaze head-on and cross my arms. “Yes. I even had an offer. I wanted to leave this town so that I could start a life somewhere where I don’t have to work with my ex-boyfriend.”
Brett takes a step toward me. “What happened to the offer?”
“It was withdrawn when they heard about the fire.”
“Did Rowan know about this?”
“About what?”
“The fact that you wanted to leave.”
“Yes, he knew.”
“Was he in your house in the days prior?”
My lungs expand on a disbelieving breath. Jesus Christ. Is he getting at what I think he’s getting at? “Yes, he was. Drop the detective act, Brett. Tell me what you’re really thinking.”
“I’m thinking everything seems to be working out very conveniently for him as far as you’re concerned.”
I shake my head. “That’s enough. You’re out of your mind.”
“I heard he’s the one working on your house. It wouldn’t take a huge stretch of imagination to see how your house burning down could benefit him in more ways than one.”
Anger burns through me. “Rowan is fixing up my house for me atno cost. Not a damn penny. In the meantime, you cut my shifts when you knew I needed the money. Instead of genuinely trying to help me, you spent your time trying to find non-existent dirt on Rowan and coming up with unhinged theories.”
