“Afrikaans. From South Africa?”
She nodded. A trickle of sweat ran between her breasts. “I think so. I’ve only heard it spoken a few times. I really can’t tell you anything more.”
“Afrikaans?”
“That’s my best bet.”
Marcus returned his phone to his pocket. “That is not the answer I was looking for.”
“I make it a point to inform clients when I’m unable to provide accurate translations.” Clients and really big, scary bikers who weren’t paying her. He might not like what she was saying, but Bree was certain she’d like it even less if she faked it and he discovered she was lying.
“How do you like the rental unit?” Marcus asked.
“It’s fine.” What the hell? Was he asking her if she liked living in a basement? Was he checking out her opinion for a dungeon he had in mind for her? Her nerves had dropped from Defcon 5 to Defcon 4 when she realized he’d shown up for information rather than to send another message to Eric, but Marcus’s sudden turn into her personal preference had them ramping up again. It sounded like he was flirting. She would have killed for that at one time, but not now.
“The ceiling’s a little low, but then again, Bree’s in no danger of hitting her head, even if she’s in heels.” Eric. Bree was pleased she didn’t respond like a damsel in distress whose knight had just arrived on the scene. She didn’t react at all.
“You never did tell me how you got into my apartment?” she pressed. Politely.
“It’s my house. I own it.”
“You own this house?” Bree asked.
“I own a few rental houses around the city,” Marcus said. Then he turned his attention to Eric. “It’s a legal, revenue-generating business, Sergeant Parker.”
“Back to you owing this house. Why are you in my apartment?” Bree demanded, feeling a little braver with Eric at her back.
“I stopped by because the renters upstairs reported a problem with the hot water heater. I wanted to see if it was something I could fix, or if I had to call Long.”
“Who or what is Long and why would you bring him into my place?”
“Noah Long. He owns Long Plumbing. I have him on retainer for my properties. Doesn’t matter. I looked at it. It should be fixed now.” Marcus helped himself to a paper towel from the roll on her counter, and wiped his fingers carefully. “I’m a handy kind of guy.”
“Oh,” was all Bree could manage. He was flirting with her. In front of Eric. Not good. And she couldn’t even tell him to stop because if she said anything, he could reasonable argue he was just stating a fact and she’d read the sexual innuendo into his innocent comment. There was nothing she could say. If Marcus really was the house’s owner, and she had no reason to believe he was lying about something which could be verified so easily, he had a legitimate reason to be in her suite. If she’d had problems that morning, the people upstairs would have too.
“Don’t you need to provide notice before you show up?” Eric asked.
“Not according to Bree’s lease,” Marcus said.
“Call anyway next time. I think it’s time for you to go,” Eric said.
“For now. I’ll be back if there’s another problem. Utility problems can be solved without twenty-four hour notification. Now that it’s done I’ll be on my way. Have a good evening, Bree. I’ll see you around,” Marcus said. He shot her a big grin before he headed out the door. For a moment she thought Marcus and Eric were going to hockey-check each other, banging shoulders to force their ways past each other without giving ground. Instead each took half a step to the side, avoiding the confrontation. Like grown-ups. She was a little shocked.
The exterior door clicked into place when Marcus pulled it shut behind him, and Bree was finally able to release the pen she’d been holding like a knife.
“Don’t yell at me! I didn’t know he was here. I got home, and he was in my kitchen,” she exclaimed.
“I’m not going to yell,” Eric said.
“You were thinking about it.” He had that twitch beside his left eye pulsing away like crazy.
“I’m not happy, but I’m not going to yell.”
It pulsed harder. It must be killing him to bite his tongue. “Since you didn’t say anything about the water heater, I assume it was a legitimate complaint?” he asked.
“Yeah, it was on the fritz this morning.”
“And you didn’t know the vice-president of the Ice Road Warriors was going to be your landlord?”
“I sublet through a rental agency.” Eric hadn’t mentioned the recording. If he came in after that, she certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. One argument at a time was more than enough.
“It’s suspicious that he would be here.”
“It’s suspicious that you’re here,” Bree said.
He shrugged, like it was an explanation. Like his popping by after work was a regular occurrence.
“Really, Eric?”
“You need somebody to keep an eye on you,” he said.
