He grinned. “Well, they’re perfect, so it’s not that hard.”
“Did you always want to be a dad?” Our hands touched underwater, and I widened the circle.
He scoffed. “The opposite, really. I never wanted kids. I was a shark through most of my twenties. Honed in on the business when I was in my thirties. Family, kids, were never an option.”
“How old are you now?”
A glint entered his eyes again. “I’m thirty-eight. You?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“I know. I read it in your file.”
“My file?” I stopped my movement and paddled in place. “I have a file?”
He cocked his head. Exhaled. Then slowly swam around me in a circle. “You think I would let just anyone near my kids?”
That stunned me for a moment. “What is in that file?”
“The resume you sent over.”
“And?” I turned in place, watched a drop of water slide down his face.
“And a report.”
“A report?”
“Just a small dossier.”
“About?”
He faced me, so we were both treading water. “You.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Me? So you had me investigated?”
He turned around, looked at Marley somersaulting into the water. “Just a routine background check.”
“Routine for you. Feels like an invasion of privacy to me.”
His head snapped back to me. “I did this before I knew you.”
“And you failed to mention it.” I was pissed.
“There’s not much in there. Just the facts of your circumstances. I haven’t read it.”
“You knew about the fire?”
He shook his head.
“What do you know?”
“Well.” He looked down at the surface.
“What is it?”
“Your car was likely tampered with.”
My body froze, and all I could do was stare at him. “Excuse me?”