"Don't you want to make your parents proud?"
"Of course." I couldn't understand why Dalton was acting like this. I was conflicted and wanted to do what I wanted to do, not blindly follow my parents' wishes. How could Dalton have known me for this long and not know that simple thing about me?
Maybe I was expecting him to be too self-aware. Not everyone had a background in psychology like I did. I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
"This was a great start. You know people love your art classes. But you should make sure you have your education first, before you do anything else."
I frowned, not sure that's what I wanted. Even though I thought Hazel and Brady sounded a little crazy, I was curious about what they said. Could I do little videos, telling anyone who wanted to listen how to paint? Could I share my love for painting with the world? Touch even more people than I ever thought?
Sure, I could wait and get a degree, but was that what I wanted to do? I'd have to spend more money, go back and get another master's. That path seemed so slow. But I'd felt excited and happy, even a little scared, listening to Hazel describe the next steps.
I'd think about what Dalton said, but I'd start that website with Saylor, maybe do another class, a few videos, and just see what happened. I wished I had Dalton's support, but this felt like the right thing to do.
Everything inside me told me I should pursue this, and I dreaded the very idea of going back to school.
Would people check my credentials? Would people trust me more if I was an official art therapist?
That was probably true. But in the social-media world, a lot of people did things they weren't technically experts in. You didn't need a degree to paint.
But the good girl inside me was receptive to the idea of doing the right thing. My parents would be ecstatic if I went back to school. And it was obviously what Dalton wanted.
Then a scary thought struck me—what if Dalton wanted me to leave so he didn't have to officially break up with me? What if our relationship had run its course?
My chest tightened at the idea.
Dalton's phone rang through the speakers of the truck, the display indicating it was Ashton. Dalton pressed the button to take the call.
"Hello."
"Dalton, glad I caught you. I was stuck in a jury trial most of the week, but I wanted to let you know that Oakley's' attorney reached out to schedule a mediation."
Dalton glanced over at me. "That's a good thing, right?"
"It could be if she's coming to the table willing to negotiate, and she's not using it to steamroll you or to make impossible demands. If no deal is reached, the court will schedule a trial."
"I'd like to avoid that if all possible."
"We can't control Oakley or her willingness to settle. It will take compromise from both of you. Did you want to move forward with scheduling it? I'd like to get it done as soon as possible."
"Let's do it. I can take off whenever. Don't worry about me."
"You'll need to bring your girlfriend with you, and if you could make her your fiancée before the mediation, that will help make you look like a nice, stable option in front of the mediator. These mediators are supposed to be neutral, but it's human nature to be swayed by things like a fiancée or a wife. We want you to look like a reasonable guy who just wants the best for your daughter, and Oakley will look over-the-top if she tries half of the stuff in the meeting that she does with you."
My mind was reeling with the reminder that this relationship was supposed to be fake. How much of it was real? Was all of this a ruse for him? An elaborate play to get what he wanted out of his custody case?
"You want me to propose to my girlfriend?" Dalton asked carefully.
I felt a little lightheaded. The fact that the relationship seemed real made me forget that it wasn't. I didn't feel like I was lying to his friends and family, but this was so much worse. He wanted us to pretend to be engaged.
"Remember we talked about this. You needed a girlfriend to keep Oakley from complaining about you having a live-in nanny around her kid. Now you need to be engaged so that you come across as stable in front of the mediator."
"Sounds good," Dalton said, and I gritted my teeth so that I wouldn't express my frustration with Ashton still on the line.
"I'll get it scheduled and have my assistant send you the information."
"I'll look for the email."
"Enjoy the rest of your weekend." The attorney clicked off the call, and the cab fell silent.
