“Are you kidding me?” Corinne Carmichael put down her coffee mug to stare at her father. He returned her gaze without saying a word. She tried again. “You’re saying you want me to stop taking modeling jobs? As of now?”

Her father still said nothing; he merely leaned back in his chair and looked at her steadily, as if waiting for her to give in. Well, she was done giving in. She pushed away from the breakfast table and stood. This showdown was at the breakfast table of their family estate in Boulder. Sunlight streamed in the windows and French doors revealed a backdrop of fir trees and mountain vistas. At least it looked peaceful.

“No.” So there. She put her mug in the sink and turned to leave the room, aware of her four younger sisters still at the table, gaping.

“Corinne.” Her father’s voice was quiet but stopped her in her tracks. She gritted her teeth. When would he stop treating her like a child? When would she stop letting him? She wanted to flounce from the room, but she couldn’t make her feet cooperate. Roger Carmichael was a force to be reckoned with — at home and in the nation’s halls of power.

“I’m asking you to do this for the family.”

Corinne turned to face him. “You’re not asking, you’re demanding. Asking is when you use words like ‘would you mind?’ or ‘how would you feel about?’ Asking includes question marks. I didn’t hear any question in your voice when you told me to clear my schedule.”

“Corinne—“ Now her mother would try to reason with her, coaxing and cajoling until Roger got his way. How predictable. Corinne felt her temper rising to a boil. She heard her father mutter something to his wife, who nodded. They always agreed about everything. They always presented a united front to the world. It was infuriating.

“We let you model. Despite our misgivings,” Claire Carmichael pointed out. Her accent always got a little more pronounced when she was stressed.

Corinne snorted. “Only because you couldn’t stop me when I turned eighteen.” 

“We let you attend UCLA even though we wanted you closer to home.”

“It’s normal to leave home for college! And you’ve still got three kids at home. Why would you need me here?” Her parents didn’t take that bait, but Corinne saw her next younger sister, Daisy, grinning.

“Good point!” Daisy said. “And college showed me how overprotective you guys are.”

Daisy was just back from finishing her first year at Princeton, which was even further from their Colorado home than L.A. Corinne scanned her sister’s faces as they watched this drama unfold. They each had a role to play in the family. Daisy always did her own thing and never seemed to get in trouble for it, perhaps because their parents understood her ambitions in business and finance better than Corinne’s interest in art. Valerie was quiet and observant, preferring books to people. The youngest sisters, on the other hand, were both athletes who were fiercely competitive. At fifteen, Marie was already winning junior tennis tournaments. Samantha, a year younger, was bringing home trophies as a downhill skier. With five girls in the family, they each had to carve out a niche of their own. And Corinne’s niche baffled her parents: she loved film and fashion, but to them she just seemed frivolous. And that hurt. 

“I’ve already signed a contract for a shoot in Hawaii in June,” she announced. “You wouldn’t want me to break my word, would you?”

Her father narrowed his sharp gaze on her and steepled his fingers. “You’re supposed to let me vet your jobs. My staff should check all the personnel, review the contract, evaluate the security on the premises— like we’ve always done. I could have every person at the shoot sign non-disclosures so they can’t talk to the media.” He frowned. “Maybe I still can.”

“No!” Corinne flung up her hands. Then she leaned toward him for emphasis. “No, Dad.”

Roger stood up too, towering over his daughter, though Corinne was tall herself. He pointed a finger at her and opened his mouth—
“Enough,” Claire said firmly. Everyone at the table turned to look at her in surprise. “That job is a fait accompli now, but you must not take on any new ones, Corinne. We’re in a delicate position right now. We’ve tried to keep you all out of the media as much as possible with your father’s career. Maybe we shouldn’t be surprised that now you want some attention for yourselves—but famous people attract undesirable attention.“

Corinne started to protest. She didn’t want attention, as her mother put it so patronizingly. She wanted independence and control over her own life. She was an adult, damn it!

“I’m not famous,” she complained. “I’m just your daughter. I’m so tired of being the eldest daughter of the rising star, Senator Carmichael.”

“Try being the youngest daughter of blah blah blah,” Sam said with a huff. “Or any of us in the middle,” Marie added, making a face.

Claire laughed and even Roger cracked a reluctant smile. Corinne ground her teeth. This was serious!

“Your time will come, like mine before. My father was governor of the state, remember?” Roger said, picking up a newspaper. He probably thought he had “handled” this domestic inconvenience and could go back to running the federal government. Corinne wanted to roll her eyes.

The conversation at the table slowly returned to normal: the logistics of getting Valerie to her volunteer job at the pet shelter, Marie to Nicky’s party, Samantha to her sleepover. Roger was due back in Washington D.C. later that day and soon Daisy would be accompanying him there for her summer internship. Corinne tossed her long hair over one shoulder and left the room feeling frustrated. She may have won a small battle, but she was still losing the war.