Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Oddly, Gavin never took his eyes off her mom, though Brynn thought he was talking to her. “I assure you that the relationship I’m in is far from casual. It’s frustrating, and it might cost me everything.”
“Gavin, why don’t you let me talk to Brynn alone?” Her mom’s voice had gone low.
“So you can convince her that this is all going to be all right? So you can tell her all she has to do is keep a stiff upper lip and survive the scandal?” Gavin stood, staring her mother down. “I think I’ll stay, because you need to convince me, too. This isn’t the same as it was the first time around. She’s twenty-five and gorgeous and there are pictures. People will believe it this time, and they won’t blame me. You want to know the truth? When I said we’ll get fired, I meant she’s going to get fired.”
Tears pulsed behind Brynn’s eyes because she thought he might be right.
The door came open and Ally swooped in. She was dressed to kill in a short yellow minidress and high heels, her bag flung over her bare shoulders. Her hair was up in a bun, but it looked like it had seen a lot of wind as tendrils popped out. She had her phone in one hand, and her eyes immediately went for Brynn. “I am so sorry. I was at a bar talking to this hot guy and I ignored the notifications. I got here as fast as the golf cart could take me. By the way, I owe Greg a huge tip because he crossed through some farmland and we apparently started a small war or something. I don’t know. There was an old dude in overalls running after us with a gun yelling about his potatoes. It was a whole mood.”
Her mother seemed eager to change the topic. “Allyson, we need to sit down and decide how to confront this on Brynn’s socials.”
Ally shook her head. “This is beyond me. I would tell everyone to screw themselves. We need a fixer.”
“A crisis publicist.” Her mom nodded. “Yes. You’re exactly right. What time is it at home? I might still be able to get one of our lawyers on the phone. Brynn, you are not to talk to anyone until we’ve got the publicist in place.”
The crisis publicist would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Why was she fighting for something she didn’t even care about anymore?
“Don’t. I’ll quit tomorrow,” she said, an odd relief coming over her. “I don’t care what they think. Gavin’s right. He’ll weather this and be all right. I’m the one who it’s going to follow forevermore. I’ll be dealing with every skeevy director who thinks I’ll sleep with him. I’m out.”
“What the hell does that mean? You’re out?” Her mom’s eyes had gone wide.
Brynn stood. She felt oddly at peace. “I mean I’m done. I’m retiring. I’ve got other options, and I’m going to seriously consider taking them.”
“Other options?” Her mom asked the question like Brynn had declared she was going on a murderous rampage. “What other options? Are you considering staying here so you can be with that boy?”
This was half the problem. When her mom called Major—a grown-ass man—a boy, it signaled that she also thought of Brynn as a girl who needed guidance. “He’s a man, and I’m a woman who can make my own decisions. And yes, I think I might stay here for a while. I need to make a decision about whether I want to go to Paris or if I want some time to myself.”
Her mom whirled on Gavin. “Paris? What did you do? I told you the painting is nothing more than a hobby.”
“It’s a part of who I am,” Brynn countered. “It’s far more me than acting is. I do that out of habit. I do it because it’s the only thing I know to do. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid and I want out.”
Now that she was saying the words, they felt good. They felt right. It was something that had been brewing inside her for years, and to have them out felt like someone had opened a pressure valve and vented for the first time in . . . since she was five and realized it was all on her.
There were tears in her mother’s eyes when she looked at Brynn this time. Actual tears. She hadn’t seen her mother cry in years. She had joked she didn’t have actual working tear ducts because they might cause wrinkles. “Are you trying to punish me? I know he is, but I never expected it from you.”
“Why?” Ally stood beyond the small circle, looking like the outsider staring in. “I mean shouldn’t you have expected it from her?”
“She doesn’t have your anger issues,” her mom shot back. “Stay out of this. Go back to our room and I’ll be up shortly. We’re still calling the lawyer and getting the ball rolling. Brynn is exhausted. She’s been through a lot, and maybe we should talk about giving her a brief break.”