Barret shakes his head and wipes sweat from his brow with the edge of his T-shirt.“Nope.They’re mostly Roderick’s.But since I’m not sure which are his and which are Alec’s ...”He lets the sentence collapse into a shrug.
Of course.Why make anything easy?
“You want me to divide them?”I ask, voice tilting toward incredulous.“Because I’m not speaking to either one of them.Why don’t you take them to ...”I cut myself off before I finish the sentence.Because I know where this is going.And I’m already fucking tired.
He smirks like he saw that thought crawl across my face.“Yeah, I was gonna give them to Cleo.She said, ‘Just leave them at the shop.Kit will know what to do until I get there.’”
My laugh comes out dry.“Obviously I don’t.”I eye the boxes again—some of them already buckling at the corners.“Maybe you can put them in the back?”I step forward, sliding my hands beneath one of the flimsier-looking ones.“I can help you carry them.”
He nods.“Sure.”
We fall into a rhythm for a beat, lifting, carrying, moving around each other like we’ve done this before.Like there’s something familiar here, buried under layers of things we never said.
“So,” I ask, my voice low, “when was the last time you spoke to Cleo?”
“A week ago,” he mumbles, his focus drifting as he lowers a box onto the stockroom counter.“I wish I had been able to stay with them, you know?They probably need lots of help with Julian.”
I swallow hard.“I know.”My throat catches around the words.
Their brother went missing.Then they found him in a hospital in San Diego after a car accident.He needs a lot of help, and all the siblings—Alfie included—are staying to help him.
“Things are tense among them.Eddie and I felt like we were part of the problem, not the solution.”Then he asks, “Have you checked on Cleo?”
“Yeah,” I state.“Not as often as I’d like.If Dad wasn’t sick and ...”I press my lips together before I say, “It’s best if I stay here, you know?”
He nods a couple of times, as if he knows well enough why I can’t go to be with her.
“Roderick hasn’t made amends with you?”
Okay, we’re throwing his name around like it’s nothing.I simply shake my head.“Nope.”
“You’ll probably be next.I got my apology while we were in San Francisco,” he confesses.“And I apologized too.Because it was mutual, you know?We fucked up each other’s lives.”
His laugh is humorless.
“Well ...not at the beginning.At the beginning, it was fucking Connor who screwed with us.”
My head jerks at the mention of my father.“Wait—what are you talking about?”
Barret shifts, scratching the back of his neck like the memory’s crawling just beneath his skin.“Never mind.”
“No.What did my father do to you?”
He looks at the wall behind me, like the words won't land so hard if he doesn’t meet my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter, Kit.”
“Oh, but I’m sure it does.”I cross my arms, one of the vinyl boxes wedged between us like a barrier.“What did Connor do?I know he’s never looked after his clients the way he should’ve.Actually, I feel like he screwed over several of them—just like he did with me.”
Barret raises an eyebrow.“How did he screw you over?”
“He made me work for all these musicians,” I say, voice thick with regret.“Some of them ...he was actually setting me up with because it was convenient for all parties.And I was so scorned by what happened with Roderick that I ...”I let out a breath, tight and bitter.“I didn’t even realize he was using me.”
Barret whistles, low and long.“Wow.His own daughter.Did your picture end up in a seedy magazine?”
I roll my eyes.“Yeah, a couple of times.Connor Dempsey’s Daughter: Half-Naked and Half-Sane in Hollywood’s Back Rooms.Not my best moment.”
His eyes darken.“What if I told you your father set that up?”
