Page 25 of Perfect Order
“During one of our calls in the last few weeks, when gossip started picking up about them, she said he was a mentor to her.”
“He is—was. He’s going to take the news of her death very hard. I suspect he’s going to want to be there for her—you.”
I shake my head. “I can’t think that far ahead yet.”
“Then don’t. Focus on one thing at a time.”
I lean forward, exhausted, wondering if I let the blanket of conspiracy theories I’m cloaked under suffocate me in my weakest moment. My voice is small when I question the path I’ve already stepped on. “Maybe I was wrong last night. Maybe I’m obsessing over nothing.”
Carys doesn’t say anything for a long while. When she does, I feel an immediate kinship with her. “My parents were killed by a drunk driver. It was my brother’s birthday. Instead of celebrating together, my brother went out with some friends since I was held up with other priorities. We made plans to meet up the next night, only tomorrow never came. When the dust settled, the only thing I knew down to my soul was they loved me. Nothing else made sense. I felt like less of who I was, like I’d lost a huge part of my identity because they weren’t there any longer.”
“That’s exactly what I’m feeling. I’m not certain I can handle it,” I whisper.
Carys holds out her hand. “Go home, Leanne. Face the pain. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll do what’s necessary to get you the answers you need to move on with your life.”
I reach one with one hand and squeeze hers in return. The other is too busy wiping away the deluge of tears that just won’t stop. “I’m not certain how that’s going to be possible. I’m not certain how to exist in a world where my sister’s not somewhere in it.”
And with those words, I surge to my feet and dash out the door before I fall apart and am unable to do the last thing I want to do.
Bury half of my soul.
Kane
Our hearts go out to singer Erzulie tonight. Her twin sister’s body was found murdered off a side street near Fifth Avenue. Police are calling it a mugging gone horribly wrong. There are no words to express the depth of our profound sympathy.
— StellaNova
“What are you talking about? How?” Beckett yells. He scrubs his hand over his face before whispering, “She must be fucking devastated.” He begins chewing on the ankh on his middle finger.
We’re sitting in the green room before he’s supposed to appear live as a special guest on a late-night talk show. His face is pale despite the television makeup they spent an hour slapping on him earlier. I cock my head and mouth,What?but he turns his back on me. “Are you going to the funeral? Do I need to attend? For Christ’s sake, Carrie. She’s my friend. You of all people know that what’s in the press doesn’t mean two shits to me. “
To the funeral? I leap up from the couch and get right into his face. “Who?” I demand.
He holds up his hand to fend me off. “Yes, Kane’s here. What should I… Of course they have it already. What do you want me to say? We both know I’m going to be asked about it.” His frustration is evident. “Okay. Thanks for the heads-up. And Carys? I’m glad she was with you.” He hangs up and just holds the phone without saying a word. His eyes are glued to the monitor, where the popular host is going through his monologue. Whatever Carys just dropped into Beckett’s lap had to be huge because the host pauses during applause to lift his hand to his earpiece.
Beckett lets out a barrage of curses.
“Someone died?” I prompt him.
Beckett’s eyes flick over to mine. In them, there’s such sadness and pity that for just a moment, I want to ask him if he wants me to break him out of this joint, but if I know one thing about the man I’ve been protecting for the last few years, it’s that he takes his commitments seriously. Defeated, he responds, “Erzulie’s sister. It’s all over the tabloids.”
“Ah, Christ.” Immediately, my mind whirls to the bare-bones facts Erzulie shared about her sister in the few conversations we’ve shared. For someone who was the twin of one of America’s rising musical stars, she kept a low profile in her life. And while I can’t immediately recall much, I do remember Erzulie saying her twin was older and they were close. Come to think of it, I recall with a frown, not many people know much about Kylie Miles’s elusive sister beyond what’s reported about her lucrative business in the news.
Beckett straightens his tie, his jaw tight. “That’s a lot more politically correct than what I want to say when I’m asked about it.” He strides to the door.
I call out to him.“You’re her friend, her mentor.Tonight, tomorrow, your words may not matter, but in a few years, they’re going to mean the world.”If she ever recovers, I think to myself.
“That sounds like experience talking,” Beckett notes.
I jerk up my chin but don’t acknowledge anything else. He slips out of the room. Moments later, Beckett Miller is escorted onto the studio stage to screaming applause. And aloud, I whisper, “Don’t fuck this up, rock star.”
Seconds after Beckett’s ass hits the chair, he’s asked about Erzulie’s sister. His face is serious. “I haven’t had a chance to speak with her, but I hope she knows she has my support whether she needs it tonight, tomorrow, or a year from now. I can’t begin to put myself in her place. I hope the world gives her an opportunity to grieve the way she needs to and isn’t in her face while she figures out her world without someone who meant everything to her.”
Perfect.Just as he finishes, I feel my phone vibrate. I slip it from my pocket and almost stagger when I see a text from Brit.
I know you loved him as much as I did, Kane, but I need more time. I’ll call you when I’m able. In the meanwhile…
And attached is a picture of my goddaughter, the first one I’ve received since Gene died in my arms.
