"No problem," he said. "Anything else on your mind?"
She looked away. "Maybe."
"What?"
"This is awkward."
"What?" he asked.
"Back when you partnered with your father on his schemes, did you do any of that after you turned eighteen?" she asked.
"No," he said, his jaw tightening. "I ran away. I like to think my youth should excuse me, but I understood what I was doing, and I hated myself for it."
"But you've turned yourself around. Look at what you've become," she said.
"What's that?" he asked. "How would you describe what I've become?"
"You've become a man," she said. "You take responsibility for your choices. You're vibrant and intelligent, and you may not think it, but you have heart."
He shot her a sympathetic look. "I wouldn't count on that last one too much."
Disappointed and frustrated, she frowned. "You do. Look at what you've done for Tami."
"Some would say that's just payback," he said.
"Then what about our marriage?" she asked. "You want to stick with it. That says something about you."
"We made a deal, a bargain." He slid his hand under her chin. "I care for you. I want you. I'll take care of you. But don't expect the fairy tale. I think you and I both know better than that. Remember it and you'll be happier."
His ability to detach himself made something inside her freeze with fear. Was he truly incapable of emotion? Of love? Why did it matter? she asked herself. He was taking care of the financial end of things. That was all she'd ever wanted. Right?
Calista stared at him, suddenly slapped with the knowledge that her feelings for Leo ran deeper than she'd ever anticipated. And it hurt that he clearly didn't return her feelings.
"Calista?" he said, lifting his eyebrows. "You agree with what I've said, don't you?"
She bit the inside of her lip. "I see your point."
"Hedging," he said.
She played the girl card. "Do you really want to get into a messy emotional argument with a female late at night?" she challenged with a smile.
"God, no," he said with a look of pure horror.
"Then let's go to bed," she said and told herself she would think about what he'd said some other time.
The next morning, she gave Rob a call. "I'd like to meet with you," she said.
"You have a check?" he asked.
"Yes, but you'll have to sign an agreement that you won't give any of the information you've discovered about my father or Leo to anyone else," she said firmly.
"Those are high demands. I could get some nice cash if I sold this to a tabloid," he said.
"Or not," she said. "Leo keeps a low profile. He's not a Hollywood star or a jet-setter, therefore, you could be taking the risk of getting much less. Or nothing."
"Oooh," he said. "Somebody grew kahunas. Okay, meet me at Liberty Bar at seven."
"No," she said. "I've got the check. We'll meet at three o'clock."
"No can do at three o'clock," he said. "I've got another job. Make it five-thirty and I can swing it."
Calista hated the timing, but she needed to get this taken care of immediately. "Okay. Don't be late," she said and hung up.
Calista visited the bar where she was supposed to meet Rob and waited. Thirty minutes passed and he finally showed up. "Where have you been?" she demanded.
"I got hung up," he said. "Where's the check?"
"Where's the information?" she retorted.
"You're getting tough, girl," he said and pulled out a manila envelope. "Check first."
"Signature first," she said and presented a legal document and copies for him to sign.
Rob read it and whistled. "You covered all the bases. Name changes and everything."
"If you want the money, sign it," she said.
He signed three copies of the document. "I don't suppose you'll give me a recommendation to your wealthy friends," he said.
"I don't like it that you changed the charge midstream," she said.
"That was only done after I realized I didn't have a shot at you," he said.
Calista felt nervous with each passing second. She had the odd feeling that someone was watching her, but she didn't know who. "Here's the check," she said.
Rob passed the folder to her and she stood. He followed and kissed her cheek. She drew back and frowned.
"You can't blame me. I came this close to a Philly Princess," he said, lifting his thumb and forefinger, pressing them together.
"You flatter yourself," she said and walked away. She got into her car and drove to Leo's house, the folder sitting beside her, nearly burning a hole in the passenger seat. It was dark when she pulled into the garage, and she winced when she saw Leo's car already parked in its regular spot.
Praying he wouldn't have noticed, she grabbed the folder and walked inside. The house was silent. George stepped into the hallway. "Mrs. Grant, where have you been?"
She didn't like his suspicious tone, or was it her imagination? "Out," she said. "And you?"
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Mr. Grant is looking for you."
"Where is he?" she asked.
"In your suite."
"Thank you," she said.
Her stomach clenched in knots, she climbed the stairs to their bedroom suite. She opened the door and found Leo facing the window, his hands on his hips. "Where have you been?"
"Out," she said, walking toward him, hating the wall he seemed to have drawn around himself.
He turned and threw some photos on the table beside him. "I see you met with your friend again," he said.
She glanced closer at the photos, seeing the damning visual of Rob kissing her cheek. Humiliation suffused her. "It's not what it looks like."
"Oh, really?" he said in a cold voice. "Then how is it?"
"Are you willing to listen?"
"Why should I?" he asked in a dead voice. "You'll only lie."
Her anger jumped inside her. "Stop it," she said. "You owe me the chance to explain."
"I owe you nothing," he said.
"Fine, then you'll never know what I spent a hundred thousand dollars of your money on. At this point, I don't even know. I just know I made Rob sign an agreement not to share the information."
Leo paused and frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Rob said he had information about you, but it was big. He told me I had to pay. That's why I asked you about money."
Realization dawned on Leo's face, but he was still cautious. "What information?"
She opened the folder. "Let's find out."
Leo scanned the report with skepticism. One of his security men had followed Calista and taken photos of her with the P.I. They'd been e-mailed to him and he'd printed them off, ready to throw her out of the house.Now, he wasn't so sure. Calista's P.I. said his real name was Leonardo Medici and he had three brothers. Both his parents were dead. His father had died in a train accident. He was supposed to have died in the same accident, but an explosion threw him away from the train. He frowned as he read the story. Was it true? Was he the boy who'd survived?
According to the report, a woman had discovered him and taken him home. That was when Clyde had become his so-called adoptive father. That was when the abuse had begun.
"Oh my God," Calista whispered. She looked at him. "You survived a train wreck. Not a car accident."
He shook his head. "We don't know that for sure."
She lifted the written report, which was followed by photos of his brothers. "Look at them. They look just like you," she said. "They're your brothers."
Too stunned to take it all in, he shook his head. "I put my own P.I. on this. Why wasn't he able to find it?"
"Maybe, despite Rob's obnoxiousness, he got lucky and dug in the right place. Leo, this is amazing. Momentuous. You have to call your brothers. They will be so happy you're alive."
"How do you know?" he asked and shook his head. "What am I going to tell them? I had a criminal past and have a fake marriage."
Calista turned pale. "Is that what you really think?" she asked, shaking her head. "I know you don't believe in all the romance, but do you really believe our marriage is fake? I thought we'd both decided we wanted a fresh start. I thought that meant we were building something real."
Leo stood. The news about his family was too overwhelming. He didn't trust it. He didn't trust Calista. He didn't want to count on her. He'd learned he couldn't count on anyone. "What's reality? What's perception? I don't remember these brothers. They're not real to me. Why should I get in touch with them?"