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“He’s not entirely incorrect.”
“My understanding,” I continue, “is that Renny Benton was my biological father. Yet, I’ve been shut out of every single bit of inheritance—except maybe this one. This is where I have a claim.”
Don nods slowly. “And that led you to fly to Mexico.”
“It led me to check it out, yeah.”
Paul’s eyes narrow slightly. “Secretly.”
“My people talked to your people.” My focus turns entirely to Paul. “I would have preferred a more personal approach.”
Don makes a small sound that might be approval. Paul looks at him as if betrayed.
I keep my attention on Paul.
That’s harder than it should be. He looks different here than he did in Riverside. Less armored, somehow, even though he is still dressed like a man who owns a steamer and uses it correctly. His face has that slightly stripped look people get after travel, when the body arrives before the rest of you.
“So you arranged access?” Don asks.
“Through my lawyer. Arrived a couple weeks ago.”
Paul’s eyes widen. Don just nods and taps his foot.
“Rafael let me in,” I continue. “I didn’t pick a lock. Didn’t crawl through a window like a chipmunk.”
“You’ve been here since when?” Paul asks.
Paul looks toward the hallway.
“I’m in the smaller room,” I say.
I don’t know why I say it. Maybe because some part of me wants credit for not taking the biggest thing in the house the second I could.
Maybe because I’m just a dumbass seeking approval.
“And you assumed we wouldn’t be coming.”
“I assumed if you were, someone would mention it. Given the ownership issue, I mean.” I nod specifically to Paul. “Long time, no see, by the way.”
Paul’s mouth tightens.
Don looks between us again. “And Mona is with you?”
Paul closes his eyes for one pained second.
I look at Don. “Who?”
“Your girlfriend,” Don says.
Paul leans toward him. “It’s Becca.”
Don lifts one shoulder. “I was in the neighborhood.”
I adjust the towel at my waist, suddenly aware that I’m still half-naked.
“Becca,” I say. “Yeah. We’re not together anymore.”
Something moves across Paul’s face. Not triumph or pity. Something more complicated and less useful.
