It wasn’t medieval times, yet I felt centuries old. I didn’t understand how I could be sold as an alliance in order to obtain possessions, like a record company. Being a woman, I had never been raised to think I could not be independent. But now, I could see that my independence was only based on what my father wanted for me, not what I wanted for me.

When I didn’t get the seat in Boston, he seemed relieved.

When I wasn’t moving to Boston, he was silently excited.

When I didn’t go to Julliard, he was casually supportive.

When I didn’t go to regular high school, he was thrilled.

I was lost again. Arturo seemed like he would be my center, but I also knew I needed to be my own center. I knew what I needed to do.

When I got to my father’s house, I started packing.

“Where are you going?” my dad asked softly behind me.

“I’m not sure, yet,” I lied.

“Are you moving in with Arturo?” he added slowly, holding his breath.

“No.” I turned to face my father, a man I loved, but didn’t understand at the moment.

“No, I’m not moving in with him. And I’m not marrying him. I’m sorry if that ruins your plan, and you lose your company. But lucky you, you still have The Round Table.” I was shouting as I ended my rant with my arms rising in the air.

“Guinevere. This wasn’t my intention. None of it was my intention.”

He approached me, but I stepped back, bumping into the case on the floor.

“Arturo King was not part of our plan. You were not part of this. Kaye and I have ideas, but Arturo is young and he’s unstable. We just wanted him to focus and make a sensible decision.”

“And I was the sensible decision?”

“No,” my father said. He ran a hand over his head, then sighed heavily. He was lying.

“I saw the way he looked at you. The night of your graduation.”

“How did he look at me?”

“Arturo had his sights on you that night and I knew he wanted you.” My father swallowed hard as if he was choking on the words.

“He did not,” I admonished.

“I panicked. I didn’t want him to desire you. You’re my daughter,” he emphasized before he continued. “But Kaye noticed it too, and he decided that Arturo would need a little nudge to get to know you, not just want you.”

“Dad? What are you saying?”

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, hesitating for a moment, before he spoke again.

“We wanted you two to be friends. Kaye knew you were grounded. He thought if you and Arturo became friends, it might help Arturo make a reasonable decision to let us run the company. We didn’t anticipate what would happen.”

“And what happened, Dad?”

“Arturo took it to the extreme. You charmed him so much, he wants to marry you.” Here my dad snorted, as if he couldn’t believe it.

I returned to packing; now throwing my things into my suitcase.

“Guinie, what are you doing?” he asked in dismay.

“Is it so impossible that Arturo King might be interested in me for more than a business arrangement? As more than one of his legendary women?” I was shouting again, and my father approached me. I put my hand out to stop him, so he spoke instead.

“I want you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted. You know that, right? I only wanted to keep you safe and happy.”

I took a moment to look at my father, really look at him. Salt-and-pepper hair that made him appear, all the more attractive in his forties, with his lean body that still showed muscle, and determination in his face. He was a nice-looking man, and he’d had a hard life. Losing his wife to raise a daughter who didn’t exactly fit into his world must have been difficult. But in the same breath, I knew he also kept me out of the rock world to encourage the social one instead. I hardly fit in either, and it made me think of the 4Gs again.

I really needed a fit. I needed to be in a place that was good for me. The 4Gs seemed like a good place to start. I always thought I wanted to be in the Philharmonic, but after my audition yesterday, I was determined that being in the quartet was the challenge I needed. Despite the fact that Arturo slept with most of them in the past, I wanted to be in a group like them. Strong women who could rock with classic instruments seemed like the perfect combination of the forbidden rock culture and the forced societal role.

“I know, Dad,” I finally responded, as I placed the jeans in my hands in the suitcase and went to hug him briefly. He wasn’t overly affectionate with me, but he didn’t seem to want to let me go as quickly as he normally would have released me. When I pulled back, he blinked hard and swiped his eye.

“Are you okay?” I didn’t want to embarrass him, or draw attention to something that would clearly make him uncomfortable, but he was definitely acting strange.

“He’s going to give you everything. I’m sure of it,” he whispered to his toes as if I couldn’t hear him.

I didn’t know about that. I wasn’t going to Arturo’s.