The Romeo Arrangement

When you’re rich, everybody wants a piece of you.

Except for in little Dallas, apparently.

“But you won’t mind staying to help keep Nelson in line?” I ask, raising a brow. “I’ve got a bit of a situation with Grace, some unruly guests. Tobin and I will do our damnedest to make sure he doesn’t try to leave Dallas again, but somehow, I think having you around might help keep him settled for a few more weeks. With pay, of course, double what you’re making now.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I sharpen my look. My acting powers are still a little like a magician’s trick—a soft change in tone, a certain tilt of the head, a bossy eye goes a long way in the art of persuasion.

“Good, then it’s settled,” I tell her, breaking into a massive grin. “I’ll tell Nelson the good news.”

Her green eyes twinkle. “Thank you for that and the bonus pay, Ridge.”

I give her a nod and walk over, knocking on the bedroom door.

“Come in,” Grace calls softly from inside.

Opening the door, I ask Nelson, “How you feeling today?”

He glances at Grace. “Good.”

There’s worry on Grace’s face, letting me know what they’ve been discussing.

“Tobin’s making a list to go shopping,” I tell Grace. “He’s wondering if you need anything over here.”

She stands up.

“Great timing. I’ll ask Jackie and let him know.” On her way to the door, she pats Nelson’s leg. “I’ll see you later, Dad.”

Nelson waves her off, but his eyes follow her. I recognize the longing, the regret that’s reflected in them. He looks old and frail now, but that’s the pneumonia and age to some extent.

There’s no doubt he was once a strong, able-bodied man like me whose highest focus was taking care of his family. It poisons his heart to know the trouble he’s caused.

I close the door and sit down in the empty chair next to him.

“You asked her about The Old Town Boys?” His eyes remain on the door. “I thought—”

“I asked because I’ve got next to nothing on the logistics, even with my FBI-trained buddy doing research. Turns out, Grendal has friends in high places, and they’ve done a shockingly good job of doctoring police reports. They’re practically a big fat question mark in FBI crime catalogs.” I lean back, resting one ankle on my opposite knee. “And Grace deserves to know, Nelson. If our plan’s going to work, we’re cluing her in on everything.”

He nods, then shakes his head with a sigh. “I suppose it’s only right. I hardly ever gave her details, as few as I could.”

“I’m sure you did. You thought you were protecting your daughter.”

The air he sucks in sounds broken.

He blinks several times. “I have my regrets. Plenty of ’em. But I’ll never regret not letting Clay Grendal get his hands on my Grace. He’ll have to kill me first.”

Anger roils my gut.

“What do you mean? I thought this was about money, witnesses, the fact that you’re both loose ends in an operation he needs to keep quiet?”

“Loose ends. Right. That’s what he wants so bad, Ridge. Not just me. Her.” The words leave his mouth like a dry rattle. “He…he thinks I’ve told her everything. But I haven’t.”

“What haven’t you told her, Nelson?” My hands form fists I hide under the chair.

He shoots me a quick glance before bowing his head. “I was working at the railyards, loading and unloading trains, when a cable broke and wrapped around my leg. They said not to worry, that I had insurance, workman’s comp. I was out of work for six months. Workman’s comp paid for the surgeries, but nothing more. My wife, Eleanor…”

I wait for him to catch his breath as he closes his eyes.

“God rest her soul.” Opening his eyes, he shakes his head. “Grace looks so much like her ma. Grace was little, barely more than a baby, and Eleanor worked, took as many shifts at the laundromat as she could, but the bills piled up. By the time I went back to work, we were three months behind on our rent and borrowed all we could. We were neck-deep in debt, and it went on for years, barely scrimping by. I lived like a shadow of a man, never able to give his wife, his family, what they truly wanted…”

His pain is real.

My heart swells with empathy, even if it’s abstract to me.

I’ve never lived without, not counting my time in the service. Not the way he’s describing. But I knew plenty of guys in the Army who have.

“This new guy on our crew started telling me that he’d set up a deal for making some money on the side.” He rubs a hand through his grey hair. “He warned me it was illegal, yet I listened. Then I did more than just listen. I agreed to help him so he’d cut me in. After the yard shut down for the night, I’d stay, let in a truck or two. We’d load up the goods, mark the railcar so the people on the other end could push it out before the manifests were checked, then lock up and leave. I knew it was drugs, pills and powders and God knows what else. Once a week, the driver would give me an envelope for the last delivery stuffed with cash.”