Page 72 of Just What She Needed

"I don't know." Rhett drew in a deep breath and lowered her hand. "But I guess letting that happen would be the coward's way out, right?"

"Damn skippy." Mel turned the television on again, and sat back in her chair, signifying she was through talking.

Rhett chewed on the inside of her cheek for a moment before she scooped her computer up and went into her bedroom. She climbed onto the bed and arranged the pillows behind her back. Leaning down, she grabbed the power cord off the floor and plugged it into the laptop and opened the lid. Staring at the desktop wallpaper, she wondered why she hadn't changed it. The photo of the backstage pass from Boston taunted her every time she opened her computer. Lips tight with irritation at her waffling, she double-clicked the video call icon, and then Rhys's name.

As the call was connected, she had a moment of panic. What if he decided to teach her a lesson by ignoring her call the way she'd done? If he did, she wouldn't blame him. It appeared Rhys was the bigger adult, though, because a blurry square popped up on her computer screen. After a moment, it sharpened and Rhys was there, his face solemn and wary.

"Are you still angry with me?"

Rhett couldn't detect any emotion in his neutral tone to indicate whether or not he was going to blow up at her.

"I'm not mad at you," she told him. "I never was."

"Hm." He sipped from a squat glass of amber liquid, and Rhett could almost smell the Johnnie Walker. "It certainly felt like you were. Or maybe you were just punishing me by not answering my calls or texts."

Stung, her voice gained volume. "I wasn't punishing you, either."

"Really?" He arched a brow. "Tired of me, then?"

No, he wasn't going to blow up, but he was definitely mad. Maybe not at her, but he was ticked off.

"I'm not tired of you," she said, the spurt of momentary anger draining away. "I just didn't know what to say."

He looked away for a moment, and the muscles of his cheek jumped as he clenched his jaw. "She's my daughter, Rhett. What else was I supposed to do?"

A number of responses came to mind, but Rhett kept them to herself and her face calm. "You did what you felt you had to do."

"What now? Are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment? Do you want me to quit contacting you?"

Rhett swallowed and tried to control the tremble in her lips. "You don't have to if you don't want to. But what's the point?"

"What's the...?" Rhys lifted the glass to his mouth again and drained the contents.

"You're going back in the studio in a couple of months, and then you'll be on tour again, right? When you lived here, we could spend some time together, but you've moved almost a thousand miles away. When are we supposed to see each other?"

Rhys closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "What does that mean, Rhett? Are you calling it quits with me?"

As she stared at his beautiful, precious face, every bit of happiness and light drained out of her and left her cold. Tears slowly filled her eyes at the realization that it was over.

When she didn't answer, he opened his eyes. Whatever he saw on her face made his jaw clench again. The next thing Rhett saw was the screen of his phone being slammed repeatedly against the cushion of whatever piece of furniture he was sitting on. Wincing at every blow, she waited it out. For a few moments she got only a view of his ceiling and the sound of his voice growling out every profanity ever invented.

When he looked back into the camera, Rhett drew in a quick, sharp gasp at his hard expression.

"Fine, then," he bit out. "Keep my numbers handy, and maybe one day we'll talk again."

"Okay," she managed to croak. "Goodbye, Rhys."

The last thing Rhett saw was a confused blur of his apartment rushing by before the phone slammed against the wall and disconnected the call.

When the name Sienna flashed across his phone's screen, the first thing Rhys did was check the Patek Philippe watch on his wrist. Fifteen minutes before she was supposed to be at his apartment for pizza and movie night, and true to form she was calling to cancel. Well, she was in for a surprise if she thought she could blow him off again. His fingers fumbled over the phone in an attempt to locate the correct button to answer the call. It was his fourth cell phone in three months, and he still wasn't used to it. Finally, he got the bloody thing to work and put the phone to his ear.

"Forget it," he said without preamble. "You're coming over here tonight, and that's an end to it."

"But Dad..."

"No buts."

It was like she hadn't even heard him. "It's the last night Hannah and Karis and I are going to be together before we go to college, and—"