What is happening?
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. His eyes shined as though he was fighting back tears.
“Ollie—”
“I remember when you first came into my office, Amelia,” he smiled wistfully, lifting his hand a little bit above his knee. “You were so small, but I swear I saw this giant in you. You didn’t even know who the hell I was, yet you smiled so wide I thought your face was going split in half. Your mother and I both knew you’d be an actress. But you were so young I thought it best to start you in commercials and ads first. You breezed through them and wanted to do everything. I remember you hated the taste of chunky peanut butter, but the moment the director said ‘action,’ all of the sudden you were shoving a spoonful into your mouth. Some kids can get away with just being cute, but not you, Amelia. You had pure talent. Everyone could see it.”
I felt my throat close as I stared at him. “Ollie, I don’t like where this is going.”
“Neither do I.” His hand covered his mouth. “I’ve been with you your whole career—hell, your whole life—and I love you as if you were my very own flesh-and-blood daughter. It’s for that reason that it’s time I retire, and it’s time you get a new manager.”
“Ollie, I don’t want a new manager!”
“Just because you don’t want it doesn’t mean you don’t need it,” he replied, and it hurt that he could just walk away. “Part of me knew this would happen when I got the script for Sinners Like Us…I had to fight with myself, Amelia. I didn’t want to give it to you. You were desperately looking for a new role. You have the talent, and I didn’t want you to take the script because I didn’t want to see the girl I saw as my daughter in those scenes. I was acting like your father and not your manager.”
“But you gave me the script. Everything is fine. At the end of day, you always do what is best for me, Ollie.”
“That’s why I’m doing this, Amelia,” he threw back at me. “You are not the same girl—woman—you were a few weeks ago. And that isn’t just because of Noah Sloan. A few days ago, I watched, in total awe, as you didn’t eat or sleep until you got justice not only for Noah, but yourself. You did what you wanted, what you thought was best for you, without asking me or second-guessing yourself, like an adult. I’m proud of you, Amelia. You need a manager that works for you, does what you need, not what they think is best for you. You don’t need me parenting you.”
“You can’t leave now,” I whispered, trying to think of anything to keep him with me. “They moved up the movie release. There is all this press around us now because of what happened with Mallory. There is so much to do. You can’t leave me now.”
“I’d never leave you with anyone I didn’t trust, and I won’t just disappear, but you will be seeing less of me as we transition you over.”
“Ollie, please!” I pleaded.
“Amelia, what have I always told you?”
Biting my bottom lip, I looked up so I wouldn’t cry in front of him. “That you’ll always do what’s best for me even if I don’t like it.”
“Exactly. Thank you for wanting to fight me on this. I’m glad I mean as much to you as you mean to me,” he said, coughing in an attempt to hide the fact that his voice wavered.
“Of course you mean the world to me,” I said. I stood and walked around the table to hug him. “You are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a dad, Ollie.”
He patted my back softly and broke away from me.
“Cheer up. I’ll still be in your life, no matter how badly it annoys that playboy you call a boyfriend. Now get some rest. You can’t put any more stress on the director, got it?”
“Got it,” I nodded.
He patted my shoulder, smiling at me one more time, and then headed to the door. I wanted to tell him not to go. I felt like the moment he stepped out, he would never come back. I didn’t say a word, just stood there watching as he offered me one last look and closed the door behind him.
“Uhh,” I let out the sob I’d been holding. Why? Why? Couldn’t people just stay around? If it weren’t for him, God only knows where I’d been now. Every time the world shifted under my feet, Ollie held me steady.
Knock.
Knock.
“Ollie?” I rushed to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole, and I wished to God I had. Because it wasn’t Ollie—it was my real-life mother, dressed in a vintage-style black-and-white cocktail dress with pearls on her ears, wrist, and neck.
“Hello, sweetie.” She invited herself in, heels clicking on the ground as she glanced around the suite with fake curiosity.
“Mother, what are you doing here?”
“Well, you see, something just isn’t right,” she said in tone much colder than usual. “My daughter was brutally attacked mere days ago, and she didn’t bother returning any of my calls…”
“I’m sorr—”
“Then I find out that my other two daughters spent the whole day with her, and not once did anyone think of me. Did I die and everyone forgot to tell me?” she questioned, still not facing me.
“Mother—”
“And that,” she spun on her heel, pointing her red polished nail at me. “In the twenty-five years you have been alive, not once have you ever called me Mother, Amelia.”
Panic.
Fear.
It came over me like waves when I looked into her cold, dead eyes. She didn’t look anything like the woman I knew.
“He told you, didn’t he?” she guessed. Her eyes narrowed in on me. “How much, though? The fact that I forced his low-life self to break up with you?”
Run, Amelia, my mind screamed. But I couldn’t move under her gaze.
“No,” she said. “Then you would be pissed, not scared. So…” She took a step closer to me, and I took a step back. At that, she glared. “Skylar DeGray.”
I clenched my fist.
“Yep, you know,” she said as if it were no big deal. “But than again, even at that, I’m still your mother. You still called me ‘Mom’ right up until your debacle with Ray Mallory. So I’m guessing, and tell me if I’m wrong, you figured out what happened there as well?”
“You had him attack me!” I finally said it. Finally, I confronted her, and she just waved her finger at me.
“Not at all,” she replied, casually moving over to stare at the oil painting of fruits hung on the wall. “I set up the pieces, but it isn’t my fault if someone else knocks them down. Did I know Ray Mallory had a thing for young women? Yes, but every man does. To my credit, I did keep you away from him when you were younger. He was infatuated with you. But then again, far too many grown men were. And yes, I knew the moment you saw those damn butterflies you’d go up to see them. Why? I had no idea, but I knew you would. Then there is the last piece, Noah Sloan. That boy couldn’t stand to be more than ten feet away from you since the day you both met. I figured he would come to find you before anything happened. I’m not heartless.”
“You’re not heartless,” I repeated, laughing bitterly even though the tears dropped freely from my eyes. “What if he hadn’t come? What if—”
“I would have stepped in. Don’t blame me, because it’s his fault for pushing me this far!” she screamed, raising her voice at me for the first time since I was a child. “I. Warned. Him. To. Stay. Away. I warned him ten years ago, and I warned him recently. He ignored me! So I figured maybe a few days in jail, getting kicked off the movie, destroying whatever was left of his lousy career would be enough. But I have to hand it to you, sweetie—somehow you turned it around in just two days. And here I thought you were just a naïve little girl, unaware of all the bad things that happen in this world because I kept them from you. ME!”
She grabbed a vase, throwing it to the ground, where it shattered on impact.
“Everything you have,” she said, grabbing the painting from the wall and flinging it at me so quickly I barely had time to duck, “everything you are, is because of me!” She pushed everything off one of the tables.