Page 60 of Billionaire's Coastal Haven

I snort a harsh laugh. “They don’t want my leadership. They want my dad’s.”

“Do you want his job?”

“What other choice do I have? There aren’t any jobs in Rainwater Bay for a disgraced mayor’s assistant.”

“You can conquer the world, if you want to.”

“Yeah, right. The world? You play on the global scale. I can’t earn the respect of people I’ve known my entire life. They all call meBaby Girlfor a reason. They’ll never see me as anything else.”

“Then why do you worry about them so much? Screw them.” He flings his arms wide. “Walk away.”

“I can’t.”

“Won’t.” The word snaps.

“It’s not the same for me as it is for you. My dad is sick. I need to be here for him.”

“Even when he doesn’t appreciate that you gave up your life to be his shadow?”

“I didn’t give up my life.”

“What happened to the girl who wanted to be a senator?”

“Youkilled that dream.”

“Did I? Some kid you’d never met ruined your life plan. You didn’t want it that badly, if that’s the case.”

“I did want it, but you made me realize what a hopeless dream it was.”

“Let me guess—you told your dad what I said?”

“Of course. I was crying.”

“And?”

“It was your fault.”

He shakes his head. “Not what I meant. What did your dad say when you told him I laughed at you about being a senator?”

“He…” I shift in my chair. “He said I didn’t need to worry about what you said because my destiny was to be Rainwater Bay’s next mayor anyway. It’s tradition.”

He lays his hands palms up between us. “And that was enough for you? Tradition? That was enough to kill the spark in your heart?”

“Traditions are important.” I feel like they’re all I have left to cling to, sometimes. When I’m alone and unsure, knowing I can emulate the happy life Mom and Dad built gives me purpose.

Landon brackets my face with his hands. “Only if those traditions connect you to something you want to stay connected to.”

“Why are we talking about this? You’re supposed to be telling me about your brother.” I pick up our empty plates and clear the table. I won’t be lectured by him.

He steps between me and the sink. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll clean up.”

I elbow him out of my way. “I’ve got this.” I nod toward the front of the house. “Pour more wine and pick a record. The player is in the living room.”

“Not kicking me out yet?”

I should. I totally should.

We’re fighting.