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Or happily, until she was gone. Leaving the two of us alone with that empire they’d built.
It was the setup of a princess story, wasn’t it? Something you’d read in a hardcover book with gilded edges and gold etched into the front.
It was my bedtime story, just like any good fairy tale. And fairy tales had a very specific point, beyond the limited entertainment they provided. They were used to teach a lesson. To caution kids in a perfectly innocent way.
The lesson I was supposed to glean from mine was obvious—don’t fuck up the family legacy by choosing unwisely. And it took me this long to decide that it was something I needed to unlearn. Not that I was choosing unwisely, simply that I was finally choosing something for myself.
Without, you know, dismantling my family in the process. Which is why I hooked a muzzle over the sharp tongued reaction and snapped the lock impossibly tight.
I’d inherited that sharp tongue from him, after all. It would do me no good to unleash it now.
I tried a softer approach, which was not an approach often taken with him. He liked the strong, snarky side of me, but I wasn’t sure it would do me much good right now.
“Don’t I deserve a chance to pick for myself?” I asked. “Look me in the eye and tell me I don’t.”
My dad didn’t so much as flinch. “Love is a foolish thing to chase, Ivy. There’s no guarantee that it will last, and it certainly doesn’t pay the bills.”
I rolled my lips together and fought the urge to scream, just to see what he’d do.
Deep under the surface of my skin, I could feel the pressure building again. One featherlight bubble at a time.
That’s what everyone forgets. A million pounds of feathers is still a million pounds, and eventually, it’ll crack whatever is holding it up.
“The Lowells are furious,” he continued. “And I can’t ignore that.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” I said tightly. “I still had to travel home with Caroline.”
Caroline Lowell yapped at me the entire flight back from Portland to Seattle, informing me that if my mother were around, she’d be mortified at how I’d acted.
Lynches didn’t act like everyone else.
Which was the only reason I didn’t tell her to shut her damn mouth and stop talking to me about my mother.
“Your birthday is tomorrow,” my dad said quietly. “And as you know, we’d hoped to announce your engagement to Ethan at the board meeting tomorrow morning. The Lowells and I decided it’s best for you not to attend.”
My eyes popped open. My stomach trembled. The muzzle rattled ominously. “What? I haven’t missed one in years.”
“Then you should have thought of that before you ran through downtown Portland in a fucking wedding dress,” he snapped. “Everyone in that hotel knows it was you stuck in that elevator, in your mother’s wedding dress. I’ve already stopped one story, but I can’t guarantee there aren’t others.”
The trembling in my stomach bloomed out, until my fingers were locked tight to keep from visibly shaking.
“Their trust is vital, Ivy,” he said. “My trust in you is vital, and I confess that at the moment, it’s wearing a little thin. You’re too old to have tantrums.”
“This isn’t a tantrum,” I answered as evenly as I could. Which was to say, not very evenly, because my voice shook from all the emotion threatening to spill out. “Dad, I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked of me. Gone to school where you told me to, took the classes you wanted me to, chose my majors because they were yours,” I said.
“Now you’re blaming me for your education?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice. “I’m disappointed, Ivy.”
Lynches didn’t cry.
Lynches didn’t cry.
I willed back the burn pressing against the bridge of my nose.
“No,” I said. “But this is my life you’re bargaining with, and I deserve some control over it.”
He opened up a drawer to his desk and slapped down a manila folder.
“On that, we agree,” he said, pushing the folder closer to the other side of the massive desk. “I did my best with you growing up, Ivy, but I think I’ve kept you under my wing for a bit too long.”
