Page 43 of The Rebel

She puffs up like one of the reef fish Pa told me to avoid at all costs because of their deadly poison. ‘Your idea is brilliant and I wish I’d had it myself.’ She snorts. ‘Can’t you see I want to make this happen and we can do it sooner rather than later if you agree to do it my way?’

‘Did you just call me an idiot?’

‘No, just that you sounded like one.’ This is not good but we’re both riled now and too far gone to back down. ‘Why are you being so stubborn about this? Why can’t you acknowledge that I’m the expert when it comes to PR and you should take my advice on board?’

‘I would if it wasn’t crap advice,’ I yell, hating this out-of-control feeling.

I learned to control my anger issues after Pa took me in. I soon figured he wouldn’t put up with my moody shit and no matter how hard I tried to push him away he wouldn’t leave me alone. No good ever comes of letting anyone see your weakness. But she’s pushed me too far and I can’t rein it in.

‘I can’t believe you’re so gung-ho that you won’t listen to reason—’

‘We’ll discuss this when you calm down.’ She stands, shooting me a last scathing glare before stalking to the door.

Who the hell does she think she is, scolding me like I’m a child?

‘Don’t you dare walk out on me—’

She slams the door on her way out.

Chapter Twenty

Daisy

I’m fuming. So damn mad that I’m shaking from head to foot. My head spins like I’ve stepped off a whirling carnival ride and my legs wobble. I make it to the garden before I collapse onto a bench and stare up at the sky, willing the sting of tears to abate.

I won’t cry, not over him.

The stupid thing is, I think Hart’s idea for the foster kids is brilliant, the act of a selfless man who wants to help the less fortunate. But he’s wrong about not utilising himself as the face of the campaign.

I could give him a thousand reasons why it’s perfect but he wouldn’t let me speak. He lost his temper and took it as a personal affront that I voiced an opinion at odds with his.

That’s what made me so damn mad, because when he wouldn’t listen to me or hear me out, he reminded me of Casper and the many times I felt useless; like my opinion didn’t matter or what I wanted was irrelevant.

It’s this residual lack of confidence that is making me stick with Alf when I should take a risk and start my own PR company. I hate that Casper’s cruel and calculated campaign to bind me to him has resulted in this: me feeling vulnerable and weak despite knowing I’m right. So when Hart did the same thing, dismissing my opinion as meaningless, I had to get out of there.

Something I just thought niggles at the back of my mind…a personal affront…

I’m an idiot. Of course he’s taken all this as personal. He was one of those kids who probably never had a vacation, who only dreamed of visiting a tropical island. To those kids, spending time on Gem Island would be as unattainable as flying to the moon.

This idea would be as personal as it gets for Hart and that’s probably why he’s so reluctant to put himself out there for the campaign.

Stifling a groan, I straighten and dab at the corners of my eyes with my pinkies. I take deep breaths, steadying my resolve. I’ll have to tread lightly when I go back in. I have to. We need to resolve this, and considering it’s obviously a hot button for him, I need to present rational, sensible responses so he understands my point of view.

I stand and give my arms and legs a little shake. My legs are steadier as I walk back towards his office. Thankfully, there’s no one around. I would’ve died of mortification if they’d witnessed my slamming-door tantrum and subsequent crawl back.

I knock once but don’t wait for a response. Why give him the opportunity to tell me where I can stick my apology?

I open the door and he’s exactly where I left him, sitting on the sofa. But his head is in his hands and his shoulders are slumped.

He’s defeated.

I did this.

I brought this powerful, commanding man to his knees.

I feel sick to my stomach.

He doesn’t speak as I close the door and approach, my steps tentative as I struggle to come up with something sensible that won’t inflame the situation.

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