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The poor guy shakes his head slowly. “Take your time.”

I brace myself as I pick up the phone. I did make the governor wait, and he didn’t seem the most pleasant to begin with. “Hello? This is Easton Moorland.”

“Mr. Moorland.” His voice sounds just like it does on the news. Strong. Sure. A high-pitched voice, but a confident one. “You called me.”

“Yes, yes I did. The thing is?—”

“I’m actually glad you called. If you could possibly break up with my granddaughter in a public place, that would be very helpful.”

“Break up?” I can’t help spluttering. “I have no intention of breaking up with Bea. I adore her.”

“Adore?” He harrumphs. “At least you didn’t say love. Listen, with everything that’s going on right now, I really can’t have her dating the CEO of some kind of luxury brand. I’ve worked hard to make people see that I’m a family man, and that our family values hard work and sensible choices. My constituents know that I buy my shoes at H&M, same as them.”

“H and—” I sigh. “Governor Cipriani, I understand that for a politician, your image is important, but surely that doesn’t extend to telling your granddaughter whoshe can and cannot date. I’m an upstanding person, with no skeletons hiding in my closet. I?—”

“Listen carefully,” he says. “In about two hours, my candidacy for the open Senate seat in New York is going to be announced. People will speculate that taking this position will put me in line to run for President, and those people would be right. I’ve waited decades for my turn, and it’s finally here. My useless daughter is finally clean, or at least, she has been for more than six months, and her lovely daughter is going to have to stand up next to me at every campaign event for the next few years. Right now, people love her. They like her honesty, her charm, and her willingness to say things like they are. If, however, she keeps dating the rich man who sells shoes for a thousand dollars, their admiration for her morals will quickly wane.”

“But America was built on capitalist values,” I say. “I think that most people admire a self-made man.”

“You’re a silver-spoon trust baby,” Governor Cipriani says. “I’m sure you think that, but you’re out of touch. I’m not sure how I could be any more clear. Dump her somewhere public, and do it before the weekend, or you will run into all sorts of issues at work. That’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” He hangs up.

Why would he go from Governor to Senate if he wants to make a Presidential run? Federal experience? Some kind of favor for the party? I shake my head to clear my thoughts, because none of that matters. What does matter is. . .Bea might be upset, and she might even want to dump me. But my board definitelywill, because thereissomeone fanning the flames of that dumb video.

Bea’s grandfather.

That’s a lot of pressure—on my company, but also on Bea. Pressure can make diamonds, sure, but it can alsocollapse buildings. A few years ago, I would’ve told you that owning my company would make me strong. It would keep me safe.

I thought it was the only way to keep my family safe—to protect what mattered.

But now, even with a public company, even with strong revenues, even with good ideas and ongoing progress, I’m being pushed around. My parents still don’t have my back, even now that they have money thatIgave them.

In that moment, I realize something.

I thought money would give me power. I thought my company would make me strong. I put all my effort and all my work into this, because I thought that I would finally be free of the ups and downs Mom and Dad were constantly dealing with. I thought I could work hard enough and make enough money to be invulnerable.

But in this moment, the only thing I’m really afraid of losing is Bea.

I don’t go back to the interview. I tell my assistant to reschedule my next call as well. All of that can wait. None of it really matters. Not if it will make Bea want to dump me. Not if it’ll put more pressure on her.

I think about her smile.

The way she teases me and her family.

Her soft vulnerability. Her shocking talent. Her brave demands.

I didn’t tell her grandfather that I love her, but I realize that I do. I love Beatrice Cipriani, and that’s why I call my friend.

I spent over a decade of my life working to get where I am, building up a company that turns a profit every quarter. Developing a business model that is sustainable. Creating a brand people will pay top dollar to buy, towear, and to show off. I gave my parents a large part of it so that they, too, could rest easy.

They didn’t have my back when I needed them.

Maybe they never have.

“Easton?” Laurent sounds groggy. “Is everything alright?”

“You’re asleep at eleven p.m.? How the mighty have fallen.”

“You’re so dumb,” Laurent says. “I’m inShanghai, remember? It may be eleven in Paris, but it’s five a.m. here.”

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