The word ex-boyfriend hung in the air between them.
Brittain's eyes narrowed. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. He walked around the desk, closing the distance between them. He used his height as a weapon.
"You don't get to decide when this ends," he said. His voice was low, dangerous. "You are under contract."
Cara took a step back, maintaining the gap. "The contract expires on Wednesday. I am not renewing."
Brittain scoffed. It was a dismissive, arrogant sound. "Not renewing? You think you can survive in this town without me? You'll be back to auditioning for toothpaste commercials within a month."
The insult landed. It stung. But it also clarified everything. He didn't respect her. He never had.
"We'll see," she said. "Let's see if I can breathe without the Austin oxygen supply."
He looked annoyed now, like she was a malfunctioning appliance. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a checkbook. He uncapped a fountain pen.
"How much?" he asked. "For the photo? For the hurt feelings? Name the price so I can get back to work."
She looked at the checkbook. She looked at his hand, poised to write away his guilt.
She reached out and placed her hand over his. Her skin was warm against his cold fingers. She pushed his hand down.
"No," she said.
Brittain froze. He looked at her hand, then at her face. Confusion flickered in his eyes.
"I don't want your money, Brittain. I want to be even."
She turned around. She walked toward the door. Her legs felt heavy, but she kept moving.
"If you walk out that door," Brittain called out, his voice striking her back, "I will freeze every account. You won't be able to buy a cup of coffee."
She didn't turn back. "Do it," she said. "That money was for the doll you wanted me to be anyway."
She pulled the door open. Burrel was standing there, holding a file, looking like he wanted to disappear.
"Goodbye, Burrel," she said. She gave him a genuine smile.
She stepped into the elevator. As the doors slid shut, she leaned her head against the cool metal wall. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Back in the office, Brittain crumpled the photo of him and Caryn into a ball and threw it into the trash.
He hit the intercom button. "Freeze Cara Clay's supplementary cards and trust accounts linked to Austin Media. All of them. Now. And tell PR to pull her name from the Met Gala list."
He sat back in his chair. He was sure. She would be back. She had nowhere else to go.
His phone rang. It was Caryn.
Brittain? Are we still on for dinner? Her voice was soft, needy.
He looked at the empty spot where Cara had stood. "Yes," he said. "I'll pick you up at eight."
Down on the street, Cara walked out of the building. Her phone buzzed.
Bank Alert: Credit Card ending in 4098 has been suspended.
She stared at the screen. She had zero dollars in that account now. She laughed, and a tear slipped out and ran down her cheek.
She wiped it away. She texted Zack.
I'm free. Let's work.
She walked toward the subway station. She merged into the crowd, just another girl in New York, invisible and free.
