Page 20 of The Broker

SIX

Charlotte

Tonight had been a rollercoaster of emotions, so I should have known there was another steep drop waiting for me when I got home.

My mom was in the kitchen, washing dishes when I came in, and she didn’t even look up from her task as I toed off my shoes.

“Your father wants to talk to you. He’s in the living room.”

My stomach twisted into a tight ball, and for a split second, I considered running away. But I wasn’t a little girl anymore, and running away had gotten me into this situation in the first place. I straightened my shoulders, tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, and tried to sound nonchalant. “Did he say what it was about?”

“You’d have to ask him.” Her tone was a total mystery.

Either she knew and was purposefully being vague, or she hadn’t a clue—and it was most likely the second one. My mother was born and raised in West Virginia, growing up in an ultra-traditional household, and like her mother, she was content to be the picture perfect little housewife.

My father made all the decisions and rules, and she was utterly submissive to him. She loved it, too—I’d swear she was never happier than when she was setting dinner on the table. Ididn’t quite get it, but who was I to complain? She was a great mom.

There was a set of pans beside the sink, waiting their turn to get scrubbed. “You want me to help you finish those?” I asked.

It wasn’t just a stall tactic. All my life, my mother had been obsessed with keeping a clean house, and it had rubbed off on me. I felt the urge to wipe down the countertops, to dry the dishes in the drying rack and put them away.

It was why it had taken every fiber of my being not to start cleaning at Noah’s house earlier. He was a bachelor, and I knew I shouldn’t have expected much, but—damn. He was messy.

Fuck me, the whole evening had beenmessy.

“No, thanks,” my mom said. “I’ve got it. Go see your father.”

I swallowed a breath and made my way toward the living room.

There was some college football rerun playing on the TV, but my dad wasn’t paying any attention to it. He sat on the couch, his laptop was set up on a TV tray in front of him, and he had his phone pressed to one ear.

My dad was a powerful guy. He ran one of the most successful talent agencies in Nashville, and right now he seemed so deep in his conversation that nothing else existed. I hesitated in the doorway. He looked busy, and I could come back—

Come here, he motioned as soon as his gaze landed on me. Then he flung that finger toward the empty spot beside him on the couch.

Without uttering a single word, I could tell he was upset with me, and I trudged my way toward him. Oh, no. What had I done? I sifted through the day’s events, trying to figure out what the issue might be.

I’d been good, hadn’t I?

Shit, Ihatedthis new dynamic between us.

Growing up, I’d always been a daddy’s girl, and my parents had showered me with love and praise. We never fought. I never got into trouble. And they never pushed back when I wanted something. If I made a mistake, they were willing to give me an endless number of second chances.

Everything had been so . . . easy.

Looking back now, I was well aware I’d taken it all for granted.

But I’d been young and dumb, leading to my idiotic decision to go back to school, even though I’d never been that strong of a student. My father had moved Heaven and Earth to make it possible, pulling strings and calling in favors to get me into Davidson University.

I’d probably never know what all he had to do, but I was fairly certain he’d needed to get Stella, his biggest client, involved. And because she was such a sweetheart, she’d done it for both of us.

My first year of school wasn’t that bad or hard. But the second year? God, how I struggled. The classes were boring, and college wasn’t at all what I’d thought it would be. Everyone was so serious and knew exactly what they wanted to do. I even tried switching my major from business to marketing before the spring semester, but it didn’t help much.

Also not helping was that I met Zach in the spring at a March Madness watch party one of my friends hosted. He was older, alumni, and I think I was already halfway in love with him by the end of the night.

As time marched on, I realized trying to get a degree had been a terrible idea.

There was no way I could endure another two years of it, and once I’d come to that conclusion, it was impossible to get motivated to go to class. So of course I didn’t pass most of them.

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