Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Ryder
My apartment is too quiet.
It’s one of those silences that presses against you, the kind that suffocates you if you’re not careful. I’m sitting at the dining table, papers scattered everywhere.
My brain’s fried, eyes burning from staring at this mess for hours.
The meeting with Marco races through my mind again. We have a lot, but we need to figure out how to present it all to the cops to ensure a conviction.
I’m looking through the evidence again, trying to piece it all together in a way that makes sense, which isn’t easy.
It also isn’t easy keeping this from Sunny, but I want to get it all in order first. I don’t want to pile any more pressure on her this close to Christmas.
That’s when I hear the knock. At first, I don’t even register it. It’s faint, part of the silence in the house. But then it comes again, louder this time.
Knocking.
I curse under my breath, running a hand through my hair.
Whoever it is, they’re persistent. And I’m not in the mood for visitors, not with everything that’s hanging over me. But the knocking doesn’t stop.
I push back from the table, frustrated, already regretting getting up.
I open the door without thinking, ready to give whoever it is a piece of my mind.
And then I freeze.
Standing in front of me, as if she’s just strolled out of a magazine cover shoot, is my mother.
She’s standing there with that damned smile plastered on her face.
“Ryder,” she says in that sing-song voice that always makes my blood boil. “I thought I’d stop by and see how my son is doing. Busy, I’m sure.”
I stare at her for a beat, stunned, before shaking my head. “What are you doing here?”
Her eyes scan the apartment, her smile not faltering. “Just wanted to check in. I haven’t seen you since we were filming the pilot.”
I roll my eyes. “There is no pilot, Mom. No show. And I don’t need a check-in. I saw you two days ago, and trust me, not much has changed.”
She brushes past me without waiting for an invitation, slipping into the apartment. She doesn’t even seem to notice the clutter of papers scattered around my dining table, or the fact that I’m barely holding it together now.
It’s probably for the best.
“I see you’ve been busy,” she says, eyeing the papers with concealed interest. “But you know, you can’t work all the time. You need to get out more, Ryder. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
I close the door behind her, my patience already wearing thin. “I’m fine, Mom. Seriously. You can leave.”
She turns to face me, raising an eyebrow as if my tone amuses her. “Is that how you greet your mother? Come on, darling, I’m just here to offer a little help.”
I feel a spike of irritation. “I don’t need your help.”
But she’s not listening. She’s already moving to the couch, sitting down as if she belongs here.
“Ryder, you’re not getting any younger. And I know you’ve been thinking about what’s next… but you’re playing small with this hotel, sweetheart. You have to think bigger. Think about the real opportunities. I can’t be the only one doing that for you.”
A chill runs through me at the words I know are coming.
“I’m not talking about the reality show or other fame-related things.”
She shoots me a look. I guess I’ve just ruined her surprise.
“Oh, you’re so predictable.” She leans back on the couch, crossing her legs.
“But listen, Ryder, it’s not just a show.
It’s the show. People would love to see you…
really see you. Not just the serious businessman, but the whole package.
The real you. You’ve seen that. People have been going wild for you this Christmas. ”
I feel my jaw clench as my heart starts pounding in my chest. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not doing a reality show, Mom. I’ve told you that. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of this. The attention came from a hotel guest who recognized me and posted me online. Anything else is just noise from you.”
She doesn’t take my refusal seriously. Instead, she laughs softly, almost patronizingly.
“Ryder, darling, you can’t keep hiding from the spotlight. People love a good story, and you? You’ve got everything. Money, success, charm. And this show will put you on the map like you’ve always dreamed of. You don’t even know it yet, but it’s exactly what you need.”
I take a deep breath, the anger boiling over now.
“I don’t need fame, Mom. I don’t need any of it.
What I need is to keep my life together, keep my work together.
” I gesture to the papers on the table. “This is my life now. Not some camera crew following me around, making everything a circus. This is the life that I have built without you around. You can’t change things now you’re back. ”
She stands up, suddenly serious. “You really don’t get it, do you? This could be the biggest opportunity of your life. You’d have everything you’ve ever wanted. Fame, fortune, recognition. All you have to do is play along, let the cameras in. Let me help you.”
My hands ball into fists. “I’m done with your help. I’ve done just fine without it. I don’t need you, or your cameras, or your manipulations. I never did and I never will.”
Her eyes flash with something darker now. Hurt, maybe, or resentment. But I don’t care. Not anymore.
“I don’t want to be part of your game anymore,” I say, stepping toward her. “You don’t control me. You never have. And I’m not letting you anymore.”
Her face twists in anger. “You think you can turn your back on me? On everything I’ve done for you. You’ll regret this, Ryder. You’ll see.”
I feel her words, but it doesn’t change anything. I stand my ground, watching her closely. “I won’t regret it. This is over. I’ve asked you to go before, but you didn’t listen. This time, I’m telling you. Go back home. Focus on yourself. Leave me to it.”
There’s a long, tense silence where she stares at me, as if waiting for me to back down. But I don’t.
Finally, she turns on her heel and walks toward the door, but not without one last glare. “This isn’t the end, Ryder. You’ll come around. You always do.”
I don’t answer, just watch her leave. The sound of the door clicking shut behind her feels final.
And I know, without a doubt, that I’ve made the right decision.
I just hope this time she listens to me.
I shake my head and sit back down, wanting to focus on the work once more, but I have to admit Mom has rattled me. My head is all over the place. I can’t stand it when she gets under my skin.
I don’t know how long I sit there before I’m disrupted once more.
Knock, knock.
I stare at the door in horror. Please tell me she isn’t back already. I will seriously lose my shit.
I brace myself, my muscles tense, ready to explode if she walks back through that door. No. Not again. Not now.
Knock. Knock.
I take a slow breath, and I almost think I can pretend I didn’t hear it. Maybe if I stay perfectly still, she’ll just disappear. But deep down, I know that’s not going to happen. It never does.
I swear, if this is her…
I push myself out of the chair, the frustration building.
“Again, really?” I storm to the door, my hand already on the handle.
But when I yank it open, it’s not her.
It’s Claire, standing there in the doorway, come to rescue me from the madness. The look on her face, though, is a little more serious than usual, the kind that says she’s got something on her mind.
“Yeah?” I say, not exactly hiding the tension in my voice.
She glances at me, brows furrowed. “You good?”
I’m about to snap something back about how good I am after the latest emotional grenade Mom dropped in here, but when I see the concern on Claire’s face, I bite it back. There’s no point in taking it out on her.
“I don’t know. I thought it was Mom again.” I throw my hands up in frustration. “And I can’t handle any more of her right now.”
Claire steps into the room, her eyes scanning the insanity I’ve been trying to make sense of. Papers and files scattered everywhere, the coffee cup long forgotten, now cold and stale.
“Ah, well, Mom is still in her zone. I just got off the phone with her. She’s ranting about the latest scheme,” Claire says, rolling her eyes, clearly fed up. “But on the plus side, I don’t think it’s going to be here.”
“Great,” I mutter. “What is it?”
She sits down beside me. “Well, she’s already talking about taking a flight, so…”
“Please.” I cross my fingers. “I just need a break from her shit.”
“Don’t we all.”
I sink back into my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. Claire’s presence is a welcome relief. Though I can’t exactly put into words how much I needed someone to get it.
She always does.
I take a breath, trying to calm myself. “It’s like… she just doesn’t know when to stop, you know? I don’t get how she’s still pushing all this nonsense after everything that’s happened.”
Claire sighs dramatically, folding her arms across her chest.
“She doesn’t stop, Ry. It’s an endless loop of schemes and trying to turn everything into her own reality show.” She mimics our mother’s high-pitched tone. “‘Oh, darling, this will be your big break, you’ll be famous, just wait and see!’”
I can’t help it. A chuckle bubbles up from deep in my chest.
Claire’s voice shifts to a mock-serious tone. “You don’t understand, Ryder. The cameras will capture the magic of it all!”
I laugh harder, finally letting go of some of the tension I’ve been carrying. It’s ridiculous, and a little sad, but there’s something about hearing her mock Mom’s over-the-top enthusiasm that lightens the whole thing.
“If I hear one more get famous suggestion from her, I’m going to lose my mind,” I mutter, wiping a tear from my eye, half from frustration and half from the unexpected release.
Claire shrugs, her lips curling into a sly smile. “I mean, you are a Hale and Hales are kind of notorious for their dramatic entrances. Maybe she’s just trying to live up to the family name. Especially the Christmas Prince…”
I shoot her a look, but there’s no malice in it. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”