Page 122 of The Broker

He didn’t want to admit it. “You do such a good job, though.”

“Thanks. I mean that, too, because if you hadn’t done this, I wouldn’t have started my channel. But I need to know the real reason you said I had to end things with Noah.”

We both knew the reason, but he didn’t want to put it into words. He dragged it out so long, I worried he wasn’t going to say anything.

But finally he let out a heavy breath. “He’s too old for you.”

“Ah, there it is.” I couldn’t help using the same phrase he’d given me. “I know it makes you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry for that, but I’m not your little girl anymore. I’ll be twenty-four in a few weeks, and I’m too old for you to be telling me who I’m allowed to date.”

“A guy like that,” he hesitated, “he’s not with you for love. It’ll run its course, and things will end exactly like they did with Zach.”

My voice shook, because the comparison filled me with anger. “Noah isnothinglike Zach.”

“All right, fine.” Worry creased his expression. “But he’ll hurt you, Charlotte.”

The laugh I gave was humorless. “Well, thank God you were there to protect me and stop that from happening.” I took a moment to get hold of myself. “Look, I don’t want to fight. Maybe it’s true he wasn’t ever going to fall in love with me, but I’ll never know, because he didn’t really get the chance.” I shot him a hard look. “You had a hand in that.”

He considered my statement for a long, tense moment. “I didn’t handle it well, no, and I’m... sorry for that.”

It was the best apology I could hope to get from him, and I nodded in acceptance. I shifted on the couch, turning so I was sideways and faced him completely. “Since you’re so big on offering me deals, I have one for you.”

Did he sense he wasn’t going to like it? His expression was guarded. “What is it?”

“You give Noah his job back, and you and I can work through our issues together. I know there’s still a lot I need to do to earn your trust back, and I promise to do it. And I’m going to work on not being so dependent on you and Mom—that one is regardless of what you decide.” I said it more for my benefit than his. “I can’t keep running to you whenever things don’t go my way.”

He stared at me with disbelief. “And if I don’t rehire him?”

My pulse quickened and my lungs tightened, because I was giving him a version of the same one he’d given me. “Then, you’re cut off emotionally. I’ll obey your rules and do whatever you ask of me, but that’s it.”

He scowled, like the deal was too harsh or unfair, but I lifted a hand before he could say anything.

“It’d be inevitable,” I said. “If I have to carry the guilt over Noah losing his job, it’ll drive a wedge between us.” I peered at my father with the hope he’d make the right decision, that wecould repair the damage I’d done to our relationship together. “What do you say? Do we have a deal?”

THIRTY-TWO

Noah

It was strange to park my car on the street in front of the Warbler office, rather than in the lot in the back, but that was for employees, and I wasn’t one of those anymore, was I?

There were other cars parked here, and I could tell right away what they were. There weren’t enough photographers for it to be Ardy’s client Stella, but there were enough for me to know there was someone big inside of Warbler right now.

I ignored the few paparazzi milling about and smoking cigarettes and made my way up the sidewalk. I climbed the porch steps, walked through the front entrance, and when the door hinges squealed, the receptionist glanced up at me. A shy smile warmed Irene’s face. “Hi, Noah.”

Had Ardy not told them what had happened, or was she just being polite?

“Hi,” I said. “I’m a little early. I have an appointment with Ardy at ten.”

“Send him in.” Ardy’s voice boomed through his open office door. “We’re finishing up in here.”

Irene waved me forward, and my anxiety ratcheted up another level. After I’d texted Ardy last night and asked for ameeting, I’d rehearsed what I wanted to say at least a dozen times, but now my mind went blank.

I stepped through the doorway and found the two chairs in front of Ardy’s desk were occupied, but since the people had their backs to me, my gaze went straight to my former boss.

He didn’t look at me, though. Ardy was wrapping up things with Erika and her client Troy Osbourne—which explained the photographers outside. His new album had dropped a little less than two months ago, and he was having a bit of a moment right now.

I lingered in the doorway, feeling horribly out of place while they discussed his upcoming appearance as the musical guest onSaturday Night Liveand his tour that kicked off right after.

When everything was settled, Erika and Troy rose from their seats.

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