Victoria Riviera.
She spots me the moment I step through the door, and her expression shifts from imperious annoyance to desperate calculation.
“Mason. Finally.” She brushes imaginary lint from her sleeve. “You need to explain to thesegentlementhat there’s clearly been some kind of mistake.”
I nod to the security guards. “I’ve got it from here.”
They step back but don’t leave, which I appreciate.
“Victoria.” I keep my voice level. Pleasant, even. “Phoenix fired you six weeks ago.”
“That was just a misunderstanding.” The words come out smooth and practiced, like she’s been rehearsing them. “Phoenix was under enormous stress. The press tour, the early negative reviews, that awful business in Maine. She wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“The termination letter was pretty clear. And I sent you a copy by certified mail.”
“Well, you would know everything about what Phoenix does, wouldn’t you?” Victoria’s eyes narrow, all pretense of warmth evaporating. “You’ve always had too much control over her. This is exactly the kind of thing that happens when professional boundaries get stomped into the dirt. Don’t think I don’t know what you let happen to her out in the boondocks.”
I let her finish.
This is a technique I learned years ago—let people say the thing they’ve prepared. Get it out of their system. Once they’ve deployed their best ammunition, it stops having power over the conversation.
Victoria seems to mistake my silence for uncertainty. She presses forward.
“Phoenix needs guidance. I’m her mother and I’ve always known what’s best for her career. This little rebellion she’s going through will pass, and when it does, I’ll still be here.”
She is breathing hard, chest rising and falling like a bellows as she works herself up.
“Victoria.” I keep my voice quiet. No malice, because malice would give her something to push against, and Victoria Riviera is very good at pushing against things. “Phoenix is an adult who made a clear decision. In writing and under the advisement of legal council.”
Victoria’s jaw tightens.
“That decision stands,” I continue. “Your name isn’t on the guest list because you’re no longer affiliated with Phoenix in any professional capacity. If you have concerns you’d like to raise, you’re welcome to contact her new management through the appropriate channels.”
Victoria’s hands clench at her sides, knuckles going white. For a moment, I think she might actually try to hit me.
“Phoenix is using you.” The words come out like venom. “Just like she uses everyone. You think you’re special? You think this…whatever you’ve convinced yourself you have…is going to last? That girl has only ever cared about herself. She keeps you around because she needs you. Once you’re no longer useful to her, that will be the end of that.”
The old version of me would have flinched. Would have let those words burrow under my skin and fester, feeding every insecurity I’ve spent years trying to outgrow.
But I’m not that person anymore.
“Goodnight, Victoria.” I turn to the nearest security guard. “There’s an active restraining order. If she won’t leave voluntarily, please contact the police.”
I don’t wait for Victoria’s response and certainly don’t look back to see her expression or hear whatever parting shot she might decide to make. I just walk back inside, closing the door firmly behind me.
Phoenix is exactly where I left her, but she’s watching the entrance now. Her conversation with the producer has wound down and it’s a rare moment when she has been left to her own devices.
She spots me coming through the crowd and her eyebrows lift in question. “Where did you go?”
I pick up a champagne flute as a server passes with a full tray. “Nowhere.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Before I can think of a suitable deflection, a crashing sound comes from outside, combined with raised voices.
Phoenix gives me a droll look. “Sure sounds like nothing.”
I shrug. “It’s handled.”
