“No, it isn’t, and I want it to stay that way.” Hugh looked straight at Ansel. “I mean it. I won’t become your subject de jour so you can make money off me.” He turned away, staring down as the water.
“How old are you?” Ansel asked. “I figure twenty-three, twenty-four, from what you’ve said. Isn’t it time you got out from under your father’s thumb?”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
“Hiding from him,” Ansel replied seriously. “Oh, you said it was to get away from people in general, and there are times when I feel the same. It’s one small reason why I love what I do, because I can get away for a while. In your case, though, I think it’s an excuse. Run, hide, and you won’t feel like you’re his pawn. His…hmm, his puppet, doing whatever he tells you, which he does to make himself feel superior.
