Page 70 of Protector

“Yeah, and I was thinking I want to start my own line of clothes”—she glances up then, a brow raised—“someday. But first I might take some classes online.” I’d ask her what she thinks, but Mom always says what’s on her mind.

Instead, she says, “And what about the talk show?”

“I’m not gonna do that interview. I don’t want to talk about what happened. If they’re not interested in my show or my modeling or anything else, I’ll just wait till the buzz dies down.”

She sets the knife down, wipes her hands, and then picks up her glass. “What they want might not change. Even six months down the line, they could still ask you about it.”

“I know. I guess I’ll take my chances at that time.”

Mom sighs, presses her mouth together, and then says, “Can I ask you something? It won’t hurt my feelings no matter what you say…”

Taken aback, I say, “What is it?”

“Do you want to find a new manager?”

My brows shoot up, and my mouth falls open. That’s something she’s never even hinted at in all our years working together. “Of course not. Why would you say that?” Then another thought occurs to me. “Do you want to quit?”

“No! Shay, honey, I’m…” She takes a small, lingering sip, and I can tell it’s to cover the emotion. “After everything that’s happened, how poorly I handled it. I couldn’t even keep you safe…”

“God, Mom, Brooks couldn’t even keep me safe, and that’s his job. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why do you seem so different? These changes, turning down deals. I know it was horrible, and maybe that’s why, but if you’re wanting a fresh start without me, I’ll understand.”

“No, Mom.” I grin, then shake my head, pausing a moment before hopping off the stool to go around to her side. “I need you. Yes, I want to change some things. And I want to take more control, make more decisions on my own…but there’s no one I trust more than you to be my manager.” I pull her in for a quick hug, then ease back and smile. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

There’s relief in her expression, but her tone is still uncertain, so I add, “I don’t know how I would have gotten through any of this without you. I’ll always need you, Mom. I just want to be a little less of your little girl and a little more of a businesswoman.”

“That’s fair. I can work with that.”

“Great. Now, what about this dinner? A whole lasagna just for us. Salad. That’s so much work, Mom. I’m okay, really. You don’t have to do all this for me.”

I move back around to grab my wine when her words stop me.

“Who says it’s just for the two of us?”

I glance over my shoulder, realizing I didn’t notice there were actually four wine glasses on the counter. Then I step over to the doorway and peek at the table—set for four as well. “Mom, I’m fine, but I’m so not in the mood for company.” Especially one of my mother’s dinner parties. “I’ll just wait until they leave or take some in my room. Do you mind?”

“Don’t you even want to know who it is?”

I grab my glass and take a drink. “Sure”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you yet because—”

We hear the front door slam shut and then, “Hello?”

I gasp, my heart skipping several beats as I stare wide-eyed at my mother. “Oh, my God.” I barely set my glass down before I’m sprinting out of the kitchen. I get halfway down the hall before he steps in front of me and my eyes fill with happy tears. “Dylan!”

I leap into his arms, and he lifts me off the ground in a spinning hug before setting me back down. “Hey, sis.”

I slap him on the arm, noticing he seems bulkier. “What are you doing here!” I haven’t talked to him since his birthday.

“What do you think? Had to make sure my little sis was all right.”

To say I’m stunned would be an understatement. I have to admit I was hurt that I hadn’t heard from my dad or brother after what happened, especially since I know my mother told them.

With my heart light, I loop my arm through his, ready to lead him back to the kitchen when I hear the door once again. I stop short, look up to meet Dylan’s eye, my brows knitted. He grins, and my heart starts running double time. My father hasn’t set foot in this house in years. Last time I saw him was three years ago in Greece. Since then we’ve grown apart, hardly talk because conversations are awkward.

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