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Reluctantly, I nod.
“Mansion.”
“And you grew up in a trailer?”
“For a while.” His face turns to granite.
“You seem to have done okay for yourself.” I glance around his apartment.
“It comes with a price.” Every rigid angle of his body tells me to stop talking. I’m insatiably curious by nature, but with him it’s a compulsion.
“You were the one in your family with money,” I guess, further assuming, “The only one with money.”
He looks away. It’s as good as a confirmation.
“Does Aaron lean on you a lot?”
He fiddles with the lid of his coffee cup instead of answering.
I decide to tread lightly. “Is there more you can tell me?”
His blue eyes are as hard as sapphires when he meets my gaze. Like he knows I’ll keep pushing until he shares.
“Mom and Dad liked to party, which is a nice way to say they were drunks. Aaron isn’t as bad as they were, but close. When I was younger, he and I used to do stupid shit like bash in mailboxes with baseball bats and run around egging cars. I stopped to play ball; he didn’t. I was a horrible kid and a worse teenager and if I didn’t have the arm I had, I’d probably be in jail.”
When he looks away, it’s in shame. My heart swells, every cell in my body leaning closer to him. Wanting to comfort him.
“There was no country club for us, Kitty Cat. No fancy cars or golf lessons. I didn’t know food came from anywhere other than a cardboard box labeled Kraft until I was thirteen.”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.
He lifts his hand and drops it on his lap before absently picking at a frayed hole in his jeans. “My brother’s like a kid. He needs a handler. He always needs money. I made sure he had a car so he could pick up his son and, hopefully, he’ll go back to work. When our parents died, I gave him the house, but I paid the back taxes or else he’d have lost it, too. I have money. It’s not a big deal.” He shakes his head like he isn’t sure why he’s upset. “First-world problems, right?”
“It’s not about the money. I can see that,” I say in his defense. “You work hard and don’t want to be taken advantage of, but you care about him, so you don’t say no. It’s unfair and he’s entitled.”
“I don’t want Mattie growing up like we did.” He lets out a gusty sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “He has it hard enough. If I didn’t help Aaron out he’d be living in the car I bought him.” He grunts, understandably frustrated.
It’s a double-edged sword. Leaving Aaron in the dark is one thing, but he has a son who Barrett loves with all his heart.
“You’re a good brother.” I rest my hand on his and squeeze. When he looks over at me, I smile. “And a good uncle.”
His heated gaze holds me captive and my skin tingles. I pat his hand and move to stand. He pulls me back down next to him. “You didn’t tell me why you were here.”
“Partly because we have to decide on our next date. Partly to check on your progress on the column.” I hazard a glance at the laptop on the counter. “I’m guessing not great since you had Mattie today, huh?”
“Going to miss my first deadline unless I pull an all-nighter.” He goes back to playing with my hair, his fingertips lost in the strands. “What about you? Get it done?”
I nod.
“Probably had it done by lunch.”
I nod again. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He lets out a tired laugh. “I love that you’re good at what you do.”
He looks exhausted and sad and tired in a way that a nap won’t fix. I hate seeing him like this. “Let me help you, Fox. I can have your column done in an hour. Afterward, you can read it and make sure it sounds like you. I’m really good. I bet I could mimic your voice.”
I drop my voice as low as possible. “There are three things I know about Kitty Cat Everhart. One, she eats everything in sight. Two, she’s hopelessly impressed by my singing on stage. Three—”
