“Maddie, come on. No one meant to make you feel less important.”
“Intent and impact are different things, Tyler. And it’s Madison, not Maddie. I’ve asked you not to call me that since we were teenagers.”
The simple assertion of this boundary—something I would never have done in the past—seemed to surprise him into silence.
Rebecca, always quick to adapt to changing social dynamics, was the first to attempt to align herself with my newfound status.
“This is amazing, Madison. I always knew you were smart. Do you need models for any of your advertising? I could introduce you to my agency.”
The transparent attempt to benefit from my success might have hurt once. Now it simply confirmed what I’d always suspected about our relationship.
“Thank you,” I said evenly. “But we work with a wonderful agency in Seattle that specializes in tech.” I smiled politely. “They prioritize diversity and authentic representation in their campaigns.”
My father had regained his composure, shifting into the business persona I recognized from watching him navigate challenges in his own career.
“Madison, we should talk about your future plans. Have you considered taking the company public? I know several investment bankers who—”
“Dad,” I interrupted gently, “my company has one of the top IPO specialists in the country on retainer. We’re planning our strategy carefully.”
The look of surprise on his face might have been comical in another context. He wasn’t used to being refused—especially not by me.
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