Rhodes shifted into drive but didn't move. "You okay?"
"Fine." My voice came out breathier than I intended. "Just... long day."
His gaze held mine. Those blue-gray eyes seeing everything.
Then he nodded, pulled away from the curb.
Neither of us spoke on the drive home.
BY THE TIME WE GOTback, it was nearly eight o'clock.
"I'm starving," I said, dropping my purse on the counter. "Grilled cheese and tomato soup?"
"Sounds perfect."
I pulled out bread, cheese, butter. Rhodes set the table without being asked.
We were just sitting down when the doorbell rang.
Rhodes went completely still. "Stay here."
His hand moved to his weapon. He approached the door with measured steps—trained, ready, dangerous if he needed to be.
I stayed in the kitchen, heart pounding.
He checked the peephole, then glanced back at me. "Blonde woman, forties. You know her?"
My stomach dropped. "That's probably Vanessa Clarke. Addison's mother."
Rhodes's expression shifted—alert, then went neutral. He opened the door.
"Can I help you?" His tone was careful, polite.
"I need to speak with Presley." Vanessa's voice was tight. "Now."
Rhodes stepped aside. I moved to the doorway.
Vanessa swept into my living room—perfectly styled hair, chic workout clothes, eyes blazing.
"What's going on?" I kept my voice calm.
"What's going on?" Her voice rose. "What's going on is that my daughter just told me she's throwing away months of work—mywork—to rope in front of hundreds of people!"
"I know this is upsetting—"
"Upsetting?" She laughed, sharp and bitter. "I spentmonthschoreographing that routine, Presley. Months! Addison's been dancing at my studio since she was three years old. She hastalent. Real talent. We've put in hours every single night for the past two months. With that routine, she could actuallywinTeenStar Texas." Her hands clenched into fists. "And now she wants to throw it all away for some cowboy hobby?"
"Addie wants to do something that's hers—"
"It was fine as a hobby!" Vanessa's voice cracked. "I didn't mind her playing around with roping on the weekends. But replacing MY choreography? Everything we've built together? This is your influence. Your coaching. You convinced her to choose that over what I created for her. You're poisoning her against me."
Rhodes had moved onto the porch. Watching. Not interfering. Letting me handle it.
"Vanessa." I kept my voice gentle. "Addie didn't want to upset you. But she needs to find her own path. Be her own person."
"Sheisher own person! And I'm hermother. I know what's best for her."
"Do you? Because when she talks about the dance routine, she sounds exhausted. Anxious. But when she talks about roping?" I met her eyes. "She lights up. She's confident. She'shappy."
