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Chapter Five
Rhys
“Whatareyoudoing here?” Marnie says, her blue eyes full of genuine surprise. Her blonde hair is piled up on her head, strands hanging freely around her heart-shaped face. Her small bump is obvious in her designer dress. She doesn’t look like a grieving widow. She’s fresh-faced, glowing. Brant would be over the moon to see her this way.
“We need to talk.”
“Oh.” Annoyance filters across her face. Raven was dead wrong about her last night. She doesn’t outshine anyone. She’s beautiful the same way scorpions are. They may be pretty to look at, but they’re cold and uncaring. She put on a good act and fooled us all for a while, but the mask is off now. There is no unseeing the truth once it’s out. “Can it wait? I’m in the middle of something right now.”
“Nope.” I step around her into the house, not giving her an opportunity to shut the door in my face or bar me from entering. We’re having this conversation now. I don’t give a fuck what she has going on. Whatever it is can wait.
I do a cursory sweep of the foyer and living room, trying not to look too hard at anything. Coming here is always a punch in the gut. I’ve spent countless hours on that couch, watching the Seahawks with Brant on the television hidden behind the panel, or playing poker at the antique table in the corner. Every part of the house is lavish and expensive. But it’s a home too.
I frown when I see Jack Hale standing on the far side of the living room, a glass of brandy in his hand. He’s staring out the French doors into the backyard.
“Rhys! Are you kidding me right now?” Marnie growls from behind me.
Jack turns when he hears her.
“Rhys,” he says, giving me a head-to-toe sweep. Jack never liked me much. As far as he’s concerned, I was always just the hired help, someone levels beneath him. He’s old money. Cocky. Arrogant. A hell of a businessman.
“Jack,” I say, giving him a chin-lift. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have an urgent matter to discuss with Marnie.”
“No problem.” He brushes back the sleeve of his jacket to glance at his watch. “We were finishing up anyway, and I’ve got another meeting.” He tips back his glass, draining the amber liquid. “I’ll have my assistant send the paperwork through for you to look over, Marnie.”
“Do that,” she says, her voice cool. I can feel her glaring daggers at my back.
He deposits his glass on the sideboard and then picks his briefcase up from the floor. Marnie stands stiffly when he kisses her on the cheek. She doesn’t even look at him. She’s too busy glaring at me.
What the fuck did Brant ever see in her?
Jack murmurs something to her, which prompts her to shake her head. He says something else, earning a grunt from her. This pisses him off. He tenses slightly. It’s so subtle I don’t think anyone else would have noticed, but I do. Reading people is what I do for a living.
And I’m reading a whole hell of a lot right now.
Marnie pulls away from Jack, who finally takes the hint. He’s not thrilled about it, but he backs off and stalks toward the door, cold as ice.
“Nice seeing you, detective,” he says on his way out the door. He doesn’t mean it.
I don’t return the platitude.
“What do you want, Rhys?” Marnie demands as soon as the door closes behind him.
“For you to do your fucking job as the executor of Raven’s trust.”
“Of course this is about Raven.” She rolls her eyes. “God, you’re just like him when it comes to her, you know that? She bats those lashes, and you fall all over yourself rushing to her aid. It’s ridiculous.”
“He was her father,” I grit out.
“What’s your excuse?”
“You cut her off,” I say instead of engaging. I’m not surprised she’s jealous of Raven. Raven is beautiful, talented, and smart, and people are genuinely drawn to her. She doesn’t have to work to be liked. It’s effortless for her. Marnie knows she can’t compete. It drives her nuts that she wasn’t the center of Brant’s world. I think she thought once he moved to Seattle, he’d be all hers, and that didn’t happen. He didn’t stop being Raven’s father. I think Marnie knows if she’d pushed, he would have chosen Raven over her, and she hates Raven for it. She loved Brant.
“Don’t be so melodramatic, Rhys. I canceled her credit cards,” Marnie says with a laugh. “She’s almost twenty-two. She’s more than capable of providing for herself when she isn’t in school.”
“You canceled her tuition payment for next year,” I growl, still furious about that.
Marnie gasps. “I did not!”
