“The cops thing is all for show,” Braden says.
“Meaning what?”
“He does that shit to look like the concerned father. That way if anyone reports him for leaving us alone all the time, he can deny it and use shit like this to convince the cops he’s Father of the Year.”
So Brock’s concern for me was fake, just like I thought.
“Has anyone ever reported him?” I ask. “For leaving you guys alone?”
“One of the neighbors did, back when we were younger. Trystan and I had a party that got out of control. The neighbor called the cops and when they showed up, the guy told him we live here unsupervised.”
“Where was your dad?”
“In Atlanta, shooting a TV show.”
“Did he get in trouble?”
“They called him and he denied everything the neighbor said. He told the cops he was flying home from a shoot and the flight was delayed.”
“And they believed him?”
“He’s an actor. He can get anyone to believe him.”
“Did he actually fly home?”
“Only long enough to make an appearance. He went over to the neighbor and apologized, or that’s what he told us. Knowing him, he gave the guy a warning. Scared him into keeping quiet.” Braden laughs. “The guy moved out after that.”
“Who lives there now?”
“No one. A developer bought it as an investment. He stops by now and then, but he doesn’t live there.”
I lean back on my hands, moving my feet back and forth in the water. “Your dad says he’s leaving next week.”
“Only if he gets the part, which he won’t.”
“Why not?”
“He’s too damn old.” Braden dips down in the water. “They’ll want someone younger.”
“He’s notthatold.”
“He’s forty-five. In Hollywood, that’s like eighty-five.”
“If he doesn’t get it, will he come back and live here?”
“Doubt it. He’ll find a reason to stay in LA.”
“I still can’t believe he called the cops.”
“That’s nothing compared to some of the other shit he’s done.”
“Like what?”
Braden doesn’t answer. He lifts up from the water and rests his arms on the edge of the hot tub.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask, looking down.
“What?”
