My mother was a different story. She openly resented me. According to her, I wasn’t making an effort. She criticized me often, but through the harsh words, I could always pick up the undertone of a wounded woman. It brought me sick pleasure. Knowing she hated our relationship as much as I did.
Leaving a voicemail was out of the question. They didn’t listen to those. So I resorted to calling their respective secretaries and leaving messages with them, like a cold caller trying to offer a solar panel installation deal.
It made my blood bubble to think Nameless Asshole, who was currently occupying my dining room, had access to my dad and could call him at any time, while I had to go through his administrative team.
“Hi, Daphne, it’s Hallie. Can you please do me a favor and ask Mom to call me back? It’s important. Yes. Very important. No. It’s not about Chanel raising their prices and my needing to stock up on bags. I actually find it super triggering to suggest that I buy new products. It is so not eco-friendly. Plus, there are steals at secondhand stores. Steals, I tell you.”
“Heyyy, Tyrese How are you? How’s your wife? Oh, really? Two years ago? I’m so sorry. Anywho, is Dad around? Any chance I could leave a message for him? Yeah. Tell him it’s urgent. Super urgent. What? No, I didn’t accidentally make the ATM machine swallow my credit card! That you would even suggest that…no wonder Beverly left you.”
Once I was done thoroughly humiliating myself with my parents’ staff, I paced my room. I considered calling Hera, then quickly thought better of it. First of all, she was probably not going to answer. She worked twenty-six hour shifts at the hospital. Also, I was her least favorite person in the world. And in the unlikely event that she did answer, she’d spend the duration of the call telling me how irresponsible I was, and how I deserved an abusive, cold bodyguard to straighten me up. Hera had an uncanny gift for making me feel like shit. So even though I knew she could get Mom and Dad on the phone in a second, I didn’t want to call her.
Freezing in my spot, an actual good idea assaulted my brain.
Keller.
Keller would know what to do in this situation. He’d driven countless nannies away when he was a kid. After his mother passed away from an overdose when he was nine, his dad took sole custody of him. Every time his father would put someone in charge of him, Keller found a way to either get the nanny fired or to run away screaming. He was a master at making people quit.
Sure, I’d been kind of at odds with my best friend since he’d abandoned me to mingle with Perry Cowen. I hadn’t taken any of his calls after the nip-slip debacle.
No matter. It was time to suck it up and play nice.
I FaceTimed Keller. He picked up immediately, in the middle of a jog, the camera bouncing between his beautiful face and the cloudless blue skies.
“Finally descended from the tree you climbed, I see,” he greeted me warmly.
“Only because the bough’s about to break into a rocky river,” I murmured, remembering the big, surly predator occupying my dining room downstairs.
“Down will come baby. Cradle and all. Am I still in the doghouse?” He rounded the corner of his street.
“That depends on whether you can help me or not.”
“Ultimatums and emotional blackmail. You speak my love language.” He sighed. “Let’s hear it.”
I took a deep breath, then told him about my last few hours. How I spent the morning innocently working on my tan. How Nameless Asshole barged into my house, stole my phone and my car keys, and canceled my credit cards. How he sent Dennis—our Dennis—on paid leave, and scared away the police officers （I may have tweaked some details to fit the overall narrative）。
I explained that my parents were not answering me, probably scared of my reaction, and I simply couldn’t live with this heathen of a man for six months. Or six days. Or even six seconds.
When I got to the part where Nameless Asshole picked me up as if I weighed no more than a cardigan and locked me in my room, Keller gasped.
“Horrible, isn’t it.” I sniffed.
“Monstrous.” There was a pause. “And hot. Is he…？”
“Keller! What an inappropriate question.”
When he continued staring at me expectantly, I rolled my eyes. “I guess he is attractive, if you consider Jason Momoa and David Gandy’s hypothetical lovechild handsome. But that doesn’t matter. The man is literally ruining my life. Being hot is not everything in this world, you know.”
“You are right, and I apologize.” My best friend cleared his throat. Finally, he stopped by his front door, collapsing on the welcome mat of his building. “So how do I loop in?”
“I need you to help me scare him away. You scared off all of your former nannies. No one is as good at being unbearable as you.”
“Actually, honey, you give me a run for my money.” Keller laughed. “Besides, my nannies weren’t menacing, alpha-males with probable military background.”
“Not helping!” I moaned, burying my face in my hands.
“All right, let’s make a game plan. Your parents are trying to show you that you’re theirs to mold and reshape. Failure is not an option. You are a strong, independent woman.”
I nodded, taking it all in. I wanted to show my parents they couldn’t spring something on me like this, without consulting me. I hadn’t spoken to them since the nip slip. They’d tried to call dozens of times, but I didn’t pick up. I was scared, and embarrassed, and—okay—feeling a little guilty.
I knew they saw me as a ditzy, silly girl, who shared nothing but DNA with them. They’d viewed me this way for so long, even I’d started to believe it.
“What do I need to make this mission successful?” I asked.
“Guts, motivation, and a working Amazon account.”
“I have at least two out of the three.” Motivation wasn’t my middle name, but I was fired up about the entire situation.
Keller laughed. “Good enough. Grab a pen and paper, and start writing this down.”
I was going to fight back against Nameless Asshole.
And win.
I didn’t go downstairs for dinner.
I couldn’t stomach anything, was too scared to see him again, and didn’t have an appetite.
Oh, and also, my door was still locked from the outside, though I had no idea what magician-slash-bodyguard trick he used to make that happen.
I was a prisoner in my own home. Simple as that.
That night, sleep did not come. I kept thinking about the plan Keller and I had come up with to get rid of Sergeant Scumbag. It seemed juvenile, half-baked. I wasn’t sure it was going to work. But doing something felt better than doing nothing.
Sunrises had always been my best friend. My constant companion in the lonely existence of being Hallie Thorne. They reminded me that every day was new, fresh, and held endless opportunities.
But when the sun rose the day after Nameless Asshole stormed into my life, all I felt was dread and anger.
Hours crawled in succession. I remained completely motionless in my bed processing, plotting, overthinking. Then, for the first time in my life, I heard the telltale signs of another human in the house.
Despite growing up in boarding schools, I’d always lived on my own. I’d never had any roommates. Mom and Dad forbade it. They’d said that confidentiality was key for people like us. That other kids would kill to have their own room, and I should be thankful for the privacy.