Page 35 of An Eye For Illusion

I truly like her. She does a good job. She doesn’t babble on like some of my other AA’s in the past did, and she always gets her work done. You really can’t ask for more than that these days.

Do I sometimes bark orders? Yes. I’m guilty of that, along with a few other things that are probably seen as demanding, when instead, I’m simply frustrated that the tasks aren’t already handled.

No one talks about how damn stressful this job is for a woman, let alone someone my age and someone who’s related to the owner. Most people assume this job was handed to me, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Maybe Heather thinks that, too.

“I’ll handle my father. Thank you for telling me. You’re right. My answer is the same and will remain the same. I apologize on my father’s behalf. He shouldn’t have put you in that position,” I say firmly, though I try to soften my voice.

I nod in dismissal and watch as she turns to make her way out of my office. Once I hear the soft click of the door as it shuts behind her, I pick up my cell and push the call button for one of my two favorite contacts saved in my phone.

“What’s up, honey?” my father asks as he answers on the second ring.

“What’s this I hear about you trying to get me to bring Moore to the charity banquet?” I ask, getting straight to the point. I don’t like to beat around the bush, and neither does my father.

“She told you, huh?” he asks with an unamused huff of a laugh.

“Of course, she did, Daddy. I thought we already had this conversation.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” he says playfully.

I shake my head as I sigh. “You know me better than that. Which means you also know why I don’t want to bring him in the first place.”

My frustration is getting the better of me, so I push up from my desk and walk over to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. I watch the hustle and bustle of the city below because it always seems to calm me.

It’s quiet up here, but I can still see and feel the frenzy of the start of the workday down below. Something about it has always soothed my soul. Maybe it’s a reminder of my purpose, or the clarity that I need to focus on my work.

“Jade, hon, at some point, you’re going to have to let him in on this part of your life. Moore would respect and even admire all the work you do for the community,” my father soothes.

I almost say over my dead body, but I catch myself and instead respond with, “I’m not ready, yet. This is something special for just you and me.”

He sighs. “I know how special this is for you, and I think Elliott would love to see this side of you. You’re happier and more outgoing when you do these kinds of events.”

My chest aches. I love my father, and it breaks my heart listening to him go to bat for Elliott. To have so much faith in him and consideration for him, while I know something big is wrong.

“Why can’t it stay between the two of us? I like that’s it’s just the two of us every year.” I don’t understand why he’s so insistent that Elliott sees that side of me.

If I can’t find a way out of this marriage, Moore will have to attend with me eventually. I internally groan at that thought because this event is near and dear to my heart. I look forward to it every year, and my father is always the one to accompany me. Except for a few random years when he couldn’t, but Bridge stepped in for him. Dad and Bridgette are the only two to know where my heart truly lies, and I like it that way.

“Baby, you need to let him in. I see the way he looks at you.” He pauses, seemingly trying to collect his thoughts. “And I see how you look at him. I want you to be happy, and Moore can be that for you.”

My heart sinks at the hope in my father’s voice when he says he hopes Elliott and I will live happily ever after. It sinks to the floor at the poor job I’ve done convincing my father that I’m happy. I know now more than ever that Elliott isn’t the one who could make me happy, but my father doesn’t.

“I’m not ready, and I don’t know if I ever will be,” I say solemnly. I’ve sometimes thought to myself that I may be truly broken. Unable to love and unable to be loved.

Just look at the mess I’ve made for myself.

The only time I’ve thought those words may not be true was when Colin Brooks walked into my office. There was the barest hint of a spark in my chest when he waltzed in like he owned the place. He sat in front of me without a care in the world. I quickly dismissed that feeling of warmth and light as irritation and loathing.

I’ve worked extremely hard to forget that enticing and exhilarating zing. I’ve never felt that before, and instead of giving me hope, all it did was cement the fact that I will never have that. Not with Moore, and especially not with Colin. Which is just another one of the many things I’m unwilling to dissect.

He sighs. “Oh, honey. Are you having second thoughts about marrying him?” His voice breaks, and my heart breaks right along with it.

Why did I ever agree to do this? No matter how this turns out, someone will get hurt. All I feel in this moment is broken and alone.

I start to second guess my campaign to bring Moore down. Maybe I’d be better off if I just shut up and play the doting soon-to-be wife. Then I think back to the night he threatened my father and me.

My thoughts become a maelstrom, and my stomach pitches into a tight knot.

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