Page 80 of For The Record

“Well, here we are,” Maya says. She directs us down another hallway toward a large steel door and punches in a code before handing me a key card, similar to the ones for hotel rooms. “I’ll wait outside. Take as long as you want.”

When we enter, I don’t know what, exactly, I expected. Maybe a gold-encrusted space dripping with diamonds, like Ocean’s Eleven? But instead, it’s a safe deposit box on a white pedestal in the middle of the room, a spotlight shining down on it.

“I feel like this place is booby-trapped,” Raina says in a murmur.

“Red laser beams are going to come shooting out at any minute.” Skye agrees before the two of them break into a raucous fit of laughter.

Still, I’m cautious, the tension unbroken by their humour. “Very funny.”

Feeling the key in my pocket after Raina gave it back, I pull it out and jam the key into the lock, opening the safe deposit box. The door swings open, revealing a stack of black cases. When I run my fingers over their velvety surfaces, I realize they’re jewelry boxes. With my back to the girls, blocking their sight of the contents, I open up a few.

There’s a pearl choker, long strands of white beads with a sapphire dangling from it. I snap it shut and open another one. A ring with an emerald gold band. When I push past all the boxes, I find a white, unsealed envelope sitting at the bottom of the safe. Opening it, I see letterhead reading Antonio Perez Films, and beneath is a handwritten scrawl, almost illegible.

Leo, these are pieces that I gave to your mother over 30 years ago, that she picked out. When things ended between us—

Reading the words, I scoff. When things ended. It’s not like they just happened to have too many differences between them. She caught him sleeping with another woman, and it turns out that she was the other woman.

—when things ended between us, Helena gave them back. I didn’t want to keep them, but donating them would feel like I was losing a piece of her.

My fist clenches around the paper, crumbling the expensive card stock. He deserves to lose a piece of her. He deserves to lose all of her. I take a deep breath and keep reading.

I thought I should give them to you. They were gifts to her. You deserve to have them. Maybe you can give them to Skye…

My fury subsides into a slow simmer. I don’t want her name anywhere near him. Still, I try to imagine one of the pieces adorning her. She would look good in the jewelry, like anything else. But if I keep these, I’ll have no use for them. They’ll just sit there like a reminder of everything I’ve lost. I open another box, holding up the latter and shoving it deep into my pocket. The bracelet is lovely: twining strands of silver, classic, tipped with diamonds. I slip it into my pocket without thinking, then close the door of the safe.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter 39: Skye Holland

“Ryder, hey,” I say, looking up from my laptop. A long silence stretches between us, filling up with things we should say but don’t. Things we might never say to each other. “What’s up?”

He gestures toward the chair and desk that Mark used to occupy. “Can I sit?”

I nod, not trusting myself to talk. I shut off my computer and fiddle with a glass paperweight, wary of what he might say.

“I just wanted to say… I’m really sorry.”

I frown. “Sorry for what?”

“You know…” He runs a hand through his hair, then sighs, replacing his baseball cap. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this and got you doxed. I’m sorry I wrote a song about you and you had to end up working here. I mean, maybe it turned out OK, I don’t know, but still… I shouldn’t have exposed our relationship to the entire world like that. And I’m sorry I accused you of leaking my song.”

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. He’s saying all the right things, almost, in his own way. Yet part of me doesn’t want to sacrifice the resentment I have harboured for so long. It’s almost like having a cancerous growth cut out of you, one that you grew even if unconsciously, and letting it go. I know it’s bad for me, but it’s almost a part of me now. “I accept your apology, Ryder.”

He scratches his nape, his other hand fidgeting with the brim of his cap. “And what I also wanted to say was… Thank you.”

Now I am really surprised. I almost fall out of my rolling chair. “For…?”

He leans back in his chair. “Thanks for all the work you did on this album’s promotion. I know it wasn’t easy for either of us to work together, and I appreciate all that you did to get me booked and shows and stuff. I know I wouldn’t really be here without you.”

“Oh, um, wow.” I’m a little touched by his words, pressing a hand to my collar. “Well. You know, just doing my job. I guess it doesn’t hurt that the album has been number one on the Billboard Top 100, right?”

“No, I mean, yeah. Totally,” he says. “Right. I guess it worked out for both of us.”

“Both of us?” I repeat, feeling more and more floored by our conversation.

“Yeah, I mean, I got my album. You got a boyfriend.” He spins his baseball cap around, as though these two things are completely equivalent. “Are we good, then?”

I stare at him for a second, trying to figure out how I was ever remotely attracted to this man. It never hits me. Still, I smile. Because once he had been something to me and whether I want to admit it, it’s because of him that I am here today. “We’re good.”

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