She cast a quick glance at Barlowâs legs, wavering.
âBut your legsâ¦â
Barlow arched an eyebrow, adopting a mock pitiable expression.
âKarina, didnât you say my disability didnât bother you?â
Karina frowned.
âWhen did I ever suggest that it bothered me? I meant, your body hasnât fully healed.
Iâm concerned youâll wear yourself out.
â
Barlow chuckled, leaning closer to whisper, âKarina, you do care about me.
â
Karina found herself speechless, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
Barlow straightened up, still chuckling.
âRelax.
Iâm in good shape.
Even though my legâs a bit bum, your carâs automatic, right?â
Karina parted her lips, about to protest, but ultimately stepped aside.
She was well aware of how tenacious he could be.
She had urgent matters to attend to and no time to bicker with him.
Karina swiftly settled into the passenger seat.
Barlow grinned, slid into the driverâs seat, and upon ensuring she was buckled in, started the engine.
âWhere are we headed?â
âSkrix.
â
Barlow raised an eyebrow.
âWhatâs going on?â
âOne of my artists got hurt.
I need to check on them.
â
Barlowâs smile waned as he cast a sidelong glance at her.
âIs Jack injured?â
âYes,â Karina responded, her attention fixed on her phone.
Barlowâs smile vanished entirely.
âHow did he get hurt?â
âHe took a tumble doing a wire stunt.
â
âIs it serious?â
âNot certain yet.
â
Barlow stole another glance at her, noting the worry etched on her face, and felt a pang of frustration.
As the general agent, Karina typically didnât involve herself directly in the day-to-day affairs of the artists.