Page 38 of Broken Beyond Repair
“Don’t let Mum hear you say that!”
Sydney curled her top lip. “Good point.”
Alex turned to her. “You’re not like the other PAs, always brown-nosing Mum. Why do you do so much for her, no matter what she does or how she treats you?”
“It’s my job.”
“No one else could put up with her.”
“Then it doesn’t sound like they were particularly good at their job. Or perhaps I have a little more patience and understanding than others.” She didn’t believe the latter, but she could hardly say,Your mum is pushing me to the very edge of my limits, and I’m sticking around because she’s hot and it turns out she could potentially break open my career.
Alex peered over his shoulder as they waited for the electric gate to open. “Do you sleep in here?”
“When I’m on the road, yes, which is rare at the moment.”
Alex’s eyes sparkled at the thought. “I’d love to have something like this I could drive off in and go anywhere.”
“The freedom is exhilarating, I must admit, though I think I would have enjoyed boarding school. You must get a real sense of belonging there.”
“Only if you fit in, and you wouldn’t enjoy it if you’d been there since you were seven because your mum was too busy with her job to look after you. Mum’s career always came first. As soon as I was old enough, she put me in boarding school. Then she drove Dad away, and now I have three homes I’m passed between.”
Her heart went out to him; Alex had a lot of deep-rooted issues with his mum. What kid wanted to spend his childhood being passed between parents? Especially when neither party showed much interest in him.
“Are you helping her with her book?” he asked when Sydney remained silent.
“I am. Mainly editing,” she replied. “How do you feel about it?”
Alex stared out the passenger window and sighed. “It’s going to make everything worse.”
Everything. She remembered when everything waseverything. It was tough growing up.
“I’m sure if you ask her not to publish it, she won’t.”
Alex turned to Sydney with his eyebrows raised. “You haven’t tried saying no to my mum yet then.”
That was a true statement.
“Do you know what it will contain?” she asked diplomatically.
“She’s told me everything.”
Sydney didn’t believe that for a second. There was a lot Beatrice wasn’t even saying in the book, and it was unlikely she’d told Alex anything beyond the basics. It wasn’t what happened to someone that made a story; the story came from how it affected those involved, how they dealt with it or ultimately didn’t. The latter she knew too well from her own experience.
She’d read the odd celebrity autobiography of people she’d worked for, once she’d left their employment, and knew they rarely laid everything bare. They gave enough to make it feel believable, a selection of perfectly curated stories from their lives, while keeping the dirty laundry well behind closed doors. She would do what she could to ensure Beatrice’s was as authentic as possible without crossing boundaries that couldn’t be un-crossed.
“Alex, can I ask who George was?” she asked as she found a parking spot. “I heard your mum say he’d died.”
“My grandfather,” he explained.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She questioned her surprise at his answer. Had they not displayed enough grief in front of her for her to have thought it was someone close? What was enough grief? What was too much? She pushed the last thought away.
Alex shrugged. “I never met him or my grandmother. Mum hadn’t seen them since she was eighteen.”
Intrigued, yet aware she’d already been nosey enough, she refrained from asking more. The last thing she wanted was for him to mention to Beatrice that she’d been asking about their family.
As she cut the ignition, she said, “So, this haircut.”
“Not happening,” Alex answered, folding his arms.
