Chapter Nine

It took her three days, limited sleep and more vats of coffee than she could count to do it. But Rose finally finished the game script and artwork in its entirety. She did it by herself, with no help—or even contact—from Sam or anyone else.

At first, she’d tried to set aside the newfound power churning through her system. But Odette’s words had whispered too loudly to be ignored. The words of advice, telling Rose to accept who she was and what she was, to not let anyone take it away. Not even herself.

So instead of ignoring the power, she embraced it. She’d let it surge through her, let it bubble and brew and inspire. And just like that, every worry or block she’d had in creating an award winning game had disappeared. Concerns about sales had dissipated.

She’d awakened the joy again. The delight and energy and excitement of creating. She’d poured herself into the fun of it and used her fantasies of Sam to add zest.

Zest.

Not sex.

No matter what Millicent wanted, Rose had standards and a belief in gaming that she was sticking with.

That’d felt almost as good as finishing the script.

Now she stood, script and storyboard in hand, in the office of the woman who’d tried to crush her, the one who thought her an irritant, an impediment. The room itself was enough to inspire the mother of all headaches, with its black leather furniture and lime green walls. It might be hard on the eyes, Rose acknowledged, but it suited its occupant perfectly.

Tall, elegant and striking with a beak-like nose and vivid eyes, Millicent Faire sat without a long silken black hair out of place, her perfectly manicured nails tapping a tune on the black glass of her desk.

“You’re late,” she said without looking up from the papers spread over that desk.

“No. Actually I’m a week early,” Rose replied, a new level of confidence awakened in her tone. “And I’m finished.”

With that, she set the folder on the desk, right there in the middle of the pages Millicent was focused on. The other woman slowly raised her head, irritation practically flaming from her vivid green eyes as she glared at Rose.

“It’s all there. The script outline, the artwork, the coded files, the prototype.” Ignoring the glare, Rose tapped the file with one finger. “I ran the prototype past the first round beta team last night. I’ve included their feedback as well.”

“Efficient,” Millicent acknowledged, tapping her finger on the file now as she eyed Rose consideringly. “And rushed, don’t you think? Efficiency for quality isn’t always a smart trade.”

A week ago, even four days ago, that condescending tone and verbal slap would have made Rose’s insides curl up and cry. But now she simply called on the power in her belly and let it rekindle her confidence.

“The feedback doesn’t indicate any issues.” She flipped open the file and extracted those pages, holding them out until Millicent took them. “You can see for yourself that the game marked high in all areas. Story, gameplay, character development, etc.”

“We’ll see what my own beta testers say.”

Having anticipated that sort of reaction, Rose only smiled.

“Your beta team’s comments are included.”

“Hmm.” With just enough surprise behind the ire in her gaze to show she wasn’t sure what to make of Rose’s attitude, Millicent focused on the pages in her hand.

She read through the report, then set it aside to read the rest of the file’s contents. Once finished, she shuffled the papers into a tidy stack and began again.

All the while, making Rose stand there waiting.

An intimidation tactic, Rose knew. But she wasn’t intimidated. She took a second to gauge the feeling sifting through her system and realized it was triumph.

Not only at creating the best game of her career. For busting her butt to keep working, despite the confusion she felt over power and family. Despite the heartache she felt over leaving Sam the way she had.

And more importantly, for standing her ground here when she knew the woman who’d browbeaten her for years expected her to cower.

Finally, Millicent closed the file, crossed her hands over it as if daring Rose to snatch it away, and looked up with a considering expression on her elegant face.

“I’m impressed.”

Leaning back in her high-backed black leather chair, Millicent tapped red-nailed fingers on the back of the game case she’d taken from the file.

“Very impressed.”

“You should be. This game will skyrocket Black Magic’s stock,” Rose predicted, pulling the words from her gut as she imagined the success to come. “Anticipating that, I’m holding you to your word that this is my last game. The profits from it will more than pay back any debt you feel my mother owes.”

“And the debt you owe?”

It was like getting hit with invisible flames. They poured over Rose, smothering and burning away her confidence. An old trick of Millicent’s, she knew. Before, it’d only take a few seconds of that look to have Rose shuffling her feet, shifting in place and mentally forming apologies for whatever slights she imagined Millicent was upset about.

But now it felt as if her feet were glued to the floor. In her mind, she could see Sam’s face when he talked about how brilliant he thought her. She had to figure that if a man with his gifts thought her to be brilliant, he was on to something.

It was that something, as much as it was the power swirling in her belly, that had Rose standing firm and staring the other woman down.

“I owe you nothing,” Rose said quietly. “If anything, it’s the other way around. We both know that. Just as we both know my reputation and skills will stand against anything you can bring to the fore.”

Her dark hair coiled high on her head like a crown, Millicent arched one brow in surprise. After a moment, she smiled. But the hard twist of her lips didn’t invite a response.

“Will you pit your power against mine?” Laughing, she stood to tower over Rose. “You’re a good designer, Rose, but there are better out there. You won’t manipulate me into giving you any control over this company.”

“I don’t want control,” Rose said calmly, her nerves so mellow she felt as if she were in coma. Giving Millicent a smile in return, she reached into her bag and laid a document on the desk between them. “In case you doubt me, this should be assurance enough.”

Millicent held her gaze for a long second before looking at the document. Her shock was like a scream in the room. Rose could almost hear her mind racing. Before the other woman could speak, before she could pull out any mind game or hypnotic phrases that cast doubt on Rose’s choices, Rose placed both palms on the cool glass desk and leaned forward.

“I’ve split my share in Black Magic between you and my mother. Fair market value for those shares would more than pay you back for any debt you think I owe. It also gives you and my mother both equal shares.”

“You think that will give her power in this company?”

If Rose had any say in it, it would. But she only shrugged.

“That’ll be between the two of you. Me? I’m finished.” There, Rose thought with a triumphant smile. The spell was broken and she was free.

She let Millicent’s roar wash over her as she smoothly strode out of the room. Confidence easing her every step, Rose hurried down the hallway toward the tiny broom closet of an office that housed the events department. Or rather, her mother’s office.

“Darling,” Effe said, her eyes widening when Rose closed the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came from a meeting with Millicent.” Rose moved the stack of event brochures off the only other chair in the tiny room and set them on the floor so she could sit. “I turned in the game. My final game.”

“Final?” Effe waved that away like it was a pesky bug. “Don’t be so dramatic, darling. Millicent might roar and bluster from time to time, but as long as you do your best, she won’t take your job.”

“She can’t take it. I quit.

“You can’t do that.” Her mother was a sprite of a woman. Tiny and blonde and so delicate she looked like she’d melt at an angry look. Yet she pulled off the parental glare like she was ten feet tall.

“I have to. I don’t belong here, Mother.” Rose wet her lips, and this time had to consciously search for the power in her belly to shore up her confidence before she could say, “I’ve found the magic, Mother. My magic. Now I’m going to Coeur d’Alene to figure out what to do with it.”

“No. You are not. You can’t.” Effe looked like she was about to have a panic attack. Her breath came in pants, her eyes were dilated like suns and the pulse in her throat bounced like a rubber ball. “You can’t go back there. They’ll change you. They’ll keep you.”

“I’m not a toy to be kept or shared, Mother. And nobody could keep me away from you,” Rose reminded her. “But I don’t understand. They’re your family. Yours, not father’s. Why do you object them so strongly?”

“Because they’re different. They never tried to be normal. I grew up with Witches Balls and Eye of Newt Burgers and the stories of Salem giving me nightmares. Coven meetings and ancient grimoires and spending every damned full moon dancing outside.” Effe threw her hands in the air before using them to tug at her pale blonde hair. “I hated it. I just wanted to be normal. I wanted you to be normal.”

Rose nodded. She could understand that, she really could. Being normal and fitting in were Effe’s buzzwords.

But...

Rose lifted her right hand, calling on the power in her gut and letting the lights flicker on the tips of her fingers. Pale pink and deep blue swirled out, shimmering off the walls and sparking off the narrow window.

“I can do this now, Mother. I can make it rain flowers and light a candle with just a thought. I love this feeling.” Rose closed her fingers into a fist, calling the light back inside. “Normal is all well and good, and something to value. But I’ve been normal all my life. I like being special better.”

“You’ve always been special. Your imagination, your technical gifts. Why can’t those be enough?” Effe begged.

Why should she settle for enough? Rose thought of Sam’s words, of the way he made her feel. She loved it when he looked at her like she was the light of his world.

“Some things are too important to walk away from,” was all she said, though. With that and a contented smile, she got to her feet.

“Rose—”

“I have to go, Mother.”

“You can’t.” Effe grabbed her arm with strength belying the woman’s tiny size. “You can’t leave me. I need you here. To take care of things. To handle Millicent.”

“I’ve done everything I can to make sure you’re okay here, Mother. I’ve paid off your debt to Millicent and signed over enough of my shares in Black Magic to ensure you’re able to live comfortably. You can keep working here or you can come with me to Coeur d’Alene. If you stay here, I’m sure you can find a job that you like better. Something where you won’t have that nasty old crow browbeating you all the time.”

Rose could see the possibilities flash in her mother’s eyes before the older woman shook her head.

“What will you do?” Effe gave a delicate sniff. “How will you survive?”

“There’s a company in Coeur d’Alene that intrigues me. And your parents need help at their bookstore. That’ll give me enough to start with while I figure the rest out.” Rose wrapped her arms around her mother to give her a quick hug. “Come with me.”

“To Coeur d’Alene?” Effe looked like Rose had just asked her to dance naked in Golden Gate Park. “Never.”

“Never is a long time, mother.” With that, Rose brushed her mother’s cheek with a fond kiss and headed for the door. Before she walked out, though, she tossed a smile back.

“You should work through some of those issues with your parents and your hometown, though,” Rose advised with a wink. “Especially since I’m pretty sure I’ll be getting married there. You won’t want to miss that, Mother.”

“Marrying?” Effe pressed her fingers to her lips. “You’re getting married? To whom?”

“To Samson Phillips,” Rose said with a confident nod. “Just as soon as I go to Coeur d’Alene and convince him.”

“Samson Phillips? The writer you worked with last week? But, Rose. Darling. You just met the man.”

True.

She’d just met him in person.

But she’d known him in the virtual world for years.

And in her heart? She was pretty sure she’d known him for lifetimes.

“Darling, flings never last,” Effe said, her words filled in the assurance of her own broken heart. “You barely know the man. You can’t base your future on spending a week together. You can’t plan the rest of your life on the sparks of lust and the heat of first encounters.”

“I’m not,” Rose promised her. “I’m basing my future on Odette Karmanski’s prognostication.”

With that and a happy smile, Rose pulled open the door and strode out to find her future.