After a few minutes of back and forth, her tone shifts; it’s lighter and there’s an excitement that suggests something good is coming her way.
When she hangs up, I nudge her knee with mine. “Want to talk about that?”
“It was my PR agent with a brand deal proposition.”
“Isn’t that normally your dad’s domain?”
Her face turns pink as she slow nods. “I’m contemplating a change.”
My jaw drops open, making her laugh. “Yeah, it turns out not all brands need their representatives to be extremely well put together and stay out of the spotlight. Some like their women to be real, stand up for themselves, and have real life problems. And, as my agent just said, ‘wear their heart on their sleeves.’
“A period products company wants to endorse me, and mercifully, it’s not contingent on keeping my image clean because that ship has well and truly fucking sailed.”
CHAPTER 49
Rhiannon
Istep into Dad’s office, heart hammering but my back as straight as I can manage, my hands empty. No props. No excuses. Just me.
The silence is suffocating. The only sounds permeating the room are a pen scratching and a clock ticking, like it’s guiding me to my doom.
“Dad?” My voice is steady even though my stomach feels like I’m walking on a tightrope. “We need to talk.”
He doesn’t even look up from the stack of papers he’s pretending are more important than me. “Talk? Rhiannon, haven’t you done enough talking lately? I heard you’ve taken a branding deal with some women’s thing. I think you’re making a mistake. I’ll smooth it over tomorrow and walk it back for you.”
I cross my arms and plant my feet. “I’m firing you as my manager, Dad.” The air leaves my lungs like I’ve been punched. But I said it.
My heart is thrashing, my pulse racing so fast the rapid thrum might take off out of my veins and skedaddle downthe road, and I might vomit, but I’ve said it. It’s out there, and I can’t take it back even if I wanted to.
He blinks like he can’t quite decipher what he’s heard, so I use the rare beat of silence between us to my advantage. “You’ve taught me to take responsibility, and I’m doing that now. You don’t get to approve this one.” My voice is steady, but my trembling hands betray the shakiness ravaging my body.
He stares at me, hard, eyes filling with cold fury, but I need to say my piece.
“You’ve managed my career my whole life. I’m grateful, but I’m done letting you steer. It’s time I managed it myself. I need to stand on my own two feet.”
He snorts, sharp and incredulous. “You think you can run this career by yourself? Look at every fuck-up you’ve made since your wedding day alone.” He spits his words like they’re weapons. “It’s been one thing after another with you. You made a show of yourself walking out on your wedding, got into a relationship with a reporter out for our blood, and now this?” He shakes his head. “You’re making a huge mistake.”
For a split second, my insecurities all race to the surface. My throat tightens. That old, useless urge to shrink flares and dies just as quickly. The lure of retreating to the safety of my father’s guidance and protection that’s kept me coloring between the lines for thirty years is strong.
But I shake off the nerves and channel an inner strength I don’t really feel. I step closer, my voice calm but firm, the quiet before the storm. “I’m scared, but fear’s had the wheel long enough. You’ve spent years controlling me, shaping me, telling me who I was allowed to be. I’m done being your puppet.”
His hand slams the desk—an old reflex I know too well. This time, I don’t flinch.
“You’re my daughter, obviously I know what’s best for you. This is madness, Rhiannon. What’s gotten into you?Maybe you need to go away and come back later with a clear head after you’ve calmed down.”
My jaw hangs open. A hollow and bitter sound tumbles from my mouth. “Calm down? You’ve been deciding what I can say, wear, love, and do for thirty years. I’m finally deciding for myself… and I need to calm down?”
His face goes red, his eyes flashing with frustration and disbelief. He looks like a man and a child at the same time—a man who doesn’t know how to lose control, a child who can’t let go.
“This isn’t the girl I raised.”
I snort. “No, but she’s the woman you were always afraid I’d become.” I hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “I know it’s going to be messy. I know I’ll fall. I know I’ll make mistakes. But this time, I’m falling on my own terms. Not under your thumb.”
His shoulders slump just a fraction, but the voice that comes out is still petulant, wounded, and childish. “You’re making a mistake, Rhiannon. I won’t forgive this. You can’t just walk away from your family.”
My family. He means I can’t walk away fromhim, but he usesfamilyas the binding agent to keep us together, to keep us in line.
I shake my head, every word a weight lifted from my chest. “I’m not walking away from you, or my family. I’m walking toward me. And this time, I get to choose who comes with me.”
