5 #3
I pushed away from the counter and picked my smoothie back up. “Look, you either do it where you have control over how it comes out...” I lifted one shoulder. “Or I post a notes app statement the second her appointment gets announced. The internet will do the rest for free.”
Raina exhaled quietly, folding her arms as she looked between us. “And if I say no?”
“Then you lose any chance of me doing that piece that Hazel wanted.”
Raina’s expressions fell just as Oliver’s gaze sharpened immediately. “Careful.”
I looked at him. “What?”
“This feels a lot like something your father would do.”
That landed harder than I expected, but I ignored that part of me that wanted to hear the truth hidden in his words as the room went still for half a second. Even Raina looked caught off guard by it.
My jaw flexed, as I forced the words out. “I’m not doing this to control her.”
“No,” Oliver agreed evenly. “You’re doing it because you want control back somewhere. Because you think it’s the only way you can protect yourself.”
I hated that he understood it so quickly.
Silence stretched again as she went over everything in her head. Presumably, replaying every possible outcome of the decision she’d already made silently in her head.
I wished I had even half of my best friend’s patience, but waiting while people made a decision about my life had never been one of my strengths.
“Raina,” I said sharply, “it’s not exactly a difficult choice.”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “It is when it involves potentiality involves my job.”
“I’m literally handing you the bigger story.”
“And that right there is exactly why I’m hesitating,” she shot back. “Because you’re treating this like a media strategy instead of an actual decision that affects your life, and mine—
“It is a media strategy.” I cut her off abruptly.
Oliver’s expression darkened instantly at my tone.
“If the press are going to rip me apart either way,” I continued, frustration bleeding through now, “then I’d rather give them something else to choke on first.”
“Rihaan.” Oliver warned.
“What?” I said, turning toward him. “You know I’m right.”
“No, I think you’re angry.” His voice sharpened. “And I think you’re trying to bulldoze her into helping you make a decision you haven’t properly thought through.”
I scoffed. “I’ve thought about it plenty.”
“Then stop pushing her.”
“I’m not pushing her. I just don’t get why she’s making it a big deal—”
“I swear to god, if you don’t shut the fuck up and stop trying to force her into something she clearly isn’t comfortable with. I’ll deck you hard enough to give the media the blunder you seem so desperate to create.”
The threat hung in the air for exactly one beat before Raina groaned, dragging a hand over her face.
“Look, I can’t tell Hazel I’m running this through NexGen, she won’t just shoot it down because of the timing, she’ll make sure the headlines turn on you even more.
And if I do it through Pitch and Pits Production, especially with all that added flare you’re suddenly so comfortable with, there’s a chance I lose my job. ”
I raised a brow, catching the unfinished but hanging in the air as her gaze flicked toward Oliver.
Something silent passed between them then. One of those irritating conversations people somehow managed to have without speaking, all loaded looks and tiny shifts in expression.
And just like that, frustration crawled back under my skin.
Because suddenly it felt less like hesitation over the article and more like there was something else they weren’t saying.
My grip tightened slightly around the glass.
“But?” I pressed, making Oliver shoot me a glare.
I ignored it. He’d already threatened to hit me, all he could any longer was snap and do it. It was a risk I was willing to take.
It’s not like I didn’t deserve it.
“But, if it comes from you and then I take a lead on it, it might take away any questions of me being part of this.”
“And what if Hazel assigns someone else on this?”
Raina rolled her eyes. “In the past year, has she ever done that?”
“Fair point.” I nodded. “What about my press statement? Can you help me at least write it? Even if it’s on my notes app.”
Oliver finally spoke, sighing. “If he’s going to do it anyway, better it comes through someone who’ll stop him from sounding completely insane.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, raising my smoothie glass at him like to say cheers.
“Yeah, I’m saying this for her and not you,” Oliver said flatly. “I’m frankly not a big fan of yours right now.”
I placed a hand over my heart. “I still love you.”
Some of the tension eased at that, the corner of Oliver’s mouth twitching despite his anger.
“On one condition,” Raina said, cutting through the moment before it could settle too comfortably.
That got both our attention immediately.
“You tell us what happened today,” She lifted her shoulder. “Two can play this game.”
I exhaled a rough breath, shaking my head.
The disbelief of the question was buried deep with a simple fact, that at the end of the day, no matter how hard we tried to be different, there were still pieces of our father threaded through all of us.