They all laughed, except Graham, who caught his face before it could smile.
Jenny, who worked as Scarlet’s lawyer, grimaced as the laughter faded.
Her mate Travis, the resort handyman, caught her expression and asked, “Any word from Darla’s dreadful mother on that lawsuit she threatened?”
“Not yet,” Jenny said. “But we’re expecting the worst.”
“Horray,” Laura said humorlessly.
Jenny frowned. “What I really don’t understand is why Scarlet isn’t trying harder to find Aaric Lyons’ heir. My firm found some really promising leads, but she’s actually told me to stop pursuing them.”
Graham hunched over his food, feeling his ears heat.
Benedict Beehag, the heir to the shifter zoo that Gizelle and Neal had been trapped in, owned the entire island, and had been trying to sell it out from underneath Scarlet and dissolve their contract since he had inherited. The unfortunate part was that he seemed to be going out of his way to market it to the very worst kind of underworld characters, and he had even tried to hire away Scarlet’s most trusted staff in a hostile takeover.
Scarlet, with the help of Jenny, had been able to thwart his efforts at every turn, but Beehag had proved unpleasant as a landlord, and had not given up trying to sell the property, though each prospective buyer seemed more unsavory than the last.
Jenny had recently discovered an obscure clause in the lengthy contract that required Beehag to give the heir of the original owner, Rupert Beehag’s partner Aaric Lyons, first right of refusal on any subsequent sales of the property. Everyone had assumed the line had died out, but Jenny uncovered records for a grandson, Grant Lyons, who had moved to America and presumably changed his name.
“Money?” Laura suggested. “Even if Darla’s mother doesn’t sue, there’s no way she’s paying off the remainder of her bill for that wedding, and Scarlet went all out on the expenses for it. The resort can’t be doing well, financially. Maybe she figures she doesn’t have the funds to buy the resort, so why bother? Maybe she doesn’t want to risk the funds on hiring detectives?”
Jenny shook her head. “This would be calling in favors from people I’ve worked for; it wouldn’t even cost her. And there’s a possibility—even if it’s slim—that when we find him, we’ll find that Lyons’ got the money for the sale. He can’t be a more unappealing landlord than our current one.”
“Do you have any idea why she’s balking?” Tex asked Travis. “You’ve been here longer than anyone but Graham.”
Travis shook his head.
Graham had been studiously peeling his apple bananas, keeping his head down and hoping he didn’t look guilty, and he was startled into looking up at the sound of his name.
His fake name.
“Do you have any ideas?” Laura had been looking his way, and Graham scowled to cover his confusion.
He only grunted and shrugged one shoulder in answer, and was relieved when no one seemed to expect anything else. They turned the conversation to happier plans for the upcoming wedding.
He finished his breakfast as quickly as he could, cursing the tiny, challenging peels of the miniature bananas and his own instinct to crush them rather than disrobe them.
Then he escaped, dumping his peels in the trash and leaving his plate in the sink.
He scowled to himself as he stalked to the kitchen to get Chef’s request for produce from the garden.
He’d gotten used to being Graham. He felt like Graham.
Graham was hard working and quiet. He was dependable and steady. He was solid.
Graham was someone who had friends, however reluctantly. Friends who trusted him, and included him in their jokes, and asked him for favors. Friends he actually wanted to do favors for.
Graham was a good guy.
But he wasn’t really Graham.
And Grant Lyons wasn’t any of those things.
Chapter 3
“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if you met your mate here, too?”
Alice pretended to laugh. “Har har,” she offered, hoping it sounded less bitter to them than it did to her.