Page 32 of Broken Beyond Repair
“But isn’t that impossible?”
“You would think. I have a contract that says otherwise. The publishers have a team on standby waiting for it. We just have to hit our deadline. We’re not looking for a polished product, but it needs to be ninety-five percent there. I’m not leaving room for editors to mess with it. Leave me now but fetch me a razor from the cupboard.”
There was battle to be done.
CHAPTER11
Sydney let the two ladies from the florist’s into the house as she left to collect Xander from the train station. Shooting back into the kitchen to let Beatrice know they’d arrived, she was met with—
“Chop chop or you’ll be late.”
Chop chop.Did that mean she had been downgraded from a click or upgraded?
She rolled her eyes as she crossed the entrance hall.
Why did I take this job again? I could be anywhere now, but no. I’m waiting on BeatricefrickingRussell and her infernal clicking fingers.
A check of Gertie before she entered the garage reminded her why she was doing it. She’d need to call Sam soon and check in with how his part sourcing was coming along. She sensed she’d need to give some notice to slip away with Gertie to the harbour. At least with Xander being around, there would be someone else to meet Beatrice’s demands.
Unsure of how much luggage Xander would have and with dry cleaning and groceries to pick up beforehand, she decided on the Mercedes. Driving it into town, she yawned continuously. Having spent most of the night reading more about Beatrice’s lavish lifestyle, she believed she understood the woman a little better. Parts of her life weren’t so lavish after all.
Early on there were wild parties, recreational drug and alcohol use. Alison, it seemed, had been her turning point. She brought her back from the brink; why she was on the brink, she didn’t say. Even under the watchful eye of Alison, Beatrice wrote about being groped and propositioned by those higher up in the industry. Knowing it happened in Hollywood was one thing; knowing it had happened to Beatrice was shocking. Were experiences like that what made her so hard now?
Although the actress had been honest and frank in some places, Sydney sensed she was holding back in others. There was little said about recent events, and her family barely got a mention. What had led her to the wild parties, the drug and alcohol abuse? She’d need to find out what Beatrice wasn’t saying if she was going to make this book compelling.
She had to pinch herself that she was helping write and edit a book that was anticipated to hit the top of the bestseller charts. All those years of work during a small amount of downtime, teaching herself and honing her craft, were finally paying off. Definitely another reason to stick around.
As she pulled into the station’s car park, it struck her that she didn’t have a clue what Xander looked like or how old he was. He was at school, she knew that much, and owned a phone, so she supposed somewhere between eight and sixteen. From the snippets of conversation she’d overheard with his mum, she would hazard a guess at early teens. He’d been old enough to interrogate her over the absence of his dad and Beatrice spoke to him like she would a young adult.
A train pulled into the station five minutes later. Sydney watched as a handful of people made their exit through the small Victorian station house into the car park. A young man in skinny black jeans and a white T-shirt emerged. He carried himself in the typical teenager way, with rounded shoulder and a hunch, looking down, distracted by something in his hands or ears; in this case, both.
He must have known the car as he sloped towards her. It was him all right. The resemblance to Beatrice was uncanny, although his hair was darker. He put his bag in the back and then, much to her astonishment, climbed in the front beside her.
“Xander, I take it?” she asked.
“Alex.”
Alex? Beatrice’s son was called Xander. She twigged the name connection of Alexander as he clarified.
“I go by Alex now. I prefer it.”
“Ah, right. Fair enough.”
“So, you must be this week’s PA.”
Sydney spat out a laugh; the kid was funny and smart.
A confused smile twitched at his lips as she laughed. She guessed it wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.
“Yeah, I’m Syd. I’m here until your mum’s leg heals and she can get back to the States.”
“That will be a first; Mum leaving before the PA legs it. I bet you run first.”
“I bet I don’t.”
“You’re on.” He held out his hand over the centre console. “Fifty quid?”
Sydney liked him already, though part of her couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for Beatrice.
