Page 16

Since my hiking escapade ended so badly, I busy myself mainly with staying near the cabin or down by the ranch house. I find myself falling into a little routine. Early morning coffee on the porch, lying out in the sun and reading a book, and sometimes wandering down tothe ranch house to spend time with Aunt Theresa, Tate, Lucy, and the kids.

And it is, actually, pretty relaxing. I’d scoffed at this whole idea when Mom first mentioned it, but I do feel better out here. But whether it’s the mountain air or the lack of parental pressure to do a job I just don’t fit in, it’s hard to tell.

I’ve also had practically no contact with the cowboy in a few days, which could be adding to my overall mood. Other than glimpsing him at the mess hall every once in a while, we haven’t crossed paths.

I shift in my chair, the wicker rustling softly underneath me. The sun has set, leaving just a golden glow over the mountains to dimly light the terrain. I close my book, taking in a deep breath. I should probably head inside. There’s barely enough light to read anymore.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me. I grab it, pulling it up to see a familiar contact.

Mom.

I answer the call. “Hey,” I say stiffly.

“Addison,” she says in greeting. “Just calling to see how your first week in Montana went. Feeling any better?”

I swallow. She’s just checking in. Doing what a normal mom would. Asking how I feel. But underneath it all, I can still sense the pressure. She sent me out here for a reason, and she wants to know if it’s working. Check in on the return on investment.

“Good,” I answer. “And yeah, I’m feeling alright.”

“Alright?” she echoes.

“Good. I’m feeling good,” I amend.

“Well, don’t just say what you think I want to hear.”

I take a breath. “I’m not. I am actually feeling better.”

“Well good,” Mom says. “Have you been thinking about your role at the company any more? After you get back?”

I balk, torn between surprise and defeat. After all, Ishouldn’tbe surprised she’s bringing this up. It’s all sheand Dad ever want to talk about. “Uh … no. I mean, I was relaxing. Not thinking about work stuff.”

Mom makes thathuffnoise of hers she brings out whenever she’s mildly displeased. “Well, yes, sweetheart, but the reason you’re taking this sabbatical is so you can reset and comebackto work.”

“Yeah …”

“Are you taking this seriously?”

“Yes!” I answer, suddenly feeling defensive. I’ve been here for a week for God’s sake. What does she expect? For me to suddenly not be afraid of public speaking? To no longer need antidepressants to function? To suddenly love rubbing elbows with Seattle’s most insufferable people? Besides, I didn’t even want to come here in the first place. “Mom, what if I … what if I took on a different kind of role at the company?”

She’s quiet for a heartbeat. “What kind of role?” I can hear the hope in her voice. The pleasant surprisethat I have, actually, been thinking about work. More accurately, how my work could change.

I steel myself. “More … administrative. Behind the scenes.”

“Oh. Addison, I don’t think—”

“I just don’t think I’m cut out for the limelight. I mean, doesn’t … theincident… kind of prove that?” I can’t bring myself to say it out loud. Panic attack. Public breakdown.

“Addison.” Her tone has shifted. “You’re our child. Ouronlychild. And on top of that, you’re a young, beautiful, intelligent girl.” The praise falls on deaf ears. Because I know it’s only a means to an end. “You’re the perfect—no, theonly—person to be the face ofSeattle Luxe.”

Familiar disappointment creeps through me, and I find myself falling silent.

“Are you taking this sabbatical seriously?” she asks again. I resist the urge to scoff.Sabbatical.Even the term feels harsh. Filled with unspokenpressure.

“As seriously as I can,” I answer.

“What does that mean?” she snaps.

Anger spikes through me. “It means I’mtrying, Mom.” My voice breaks, and I hate it.Trying. Trying to live up to her impossible standards. The role they want me to play. Breaking myself to fit a mold I don’t even like. I stare down at my lap, my hands beginning to shake.