Page 7 of Breaking Point

His daughter is 27, and she’s made a prominent name for herself as an event planner. We briefly met at the wedding she planned for my best friend… and we’ve crossed paths a handful of times since.

She plays the spoiled, trust-fund type well. Always smiling, dressed in the finest clothes money can buy. I’ve worked with similar clients before, yet she rubs me wrong. I’m not one to judge, but something about her feels off to me. Forced maybe. I pride myself on my ability to tell if someone’s lying. And if there’s one thing I know for sure… it’s that Olivia Hughes isn’t who she pretends to be.

Up until a month ago though, I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.

As we pass into the peninsula kitchen, I note that her knuckles are white from squeezing so hard. She halts outside her father’s office, and I watch as she rolls her shoulders, standing tall. I half-wonder if she’s preparing more for battle than a talk with her father. The thought vanishes as she abruptly turns, bright eyes flicking to mine.

“If you don’t mind waiting here-”

“Your father requested that I be here, Ms. Hughes,” I explain, but when she opens her mouth to speak again, a voice sounds from the other side of the door:

“Button? Is that you?”

Her eyes flutter shut before she answers softly, “It’s me, Dad.”

She breezes through the door. It opens to reveal a man sitting behind an ornate mahogany desk. The office, like the restof the house, is teeming with crystal. It’s all impractical if you ask me, but then again, I never grew up with money. Working in this industry for eight years hasn’t changed how I view it. No matter how much or how little of it I have.

Harvey Hughes is a slim man. Taller than most at about 6’ even, he’s still about as intimidating as a puppy. He’s long nosed, with silver-streaked hair and blue eyes that bounce over the room like he’s taking in a million things at once.

When his eyes land on Olivia though, he stops pacing and smiles. “I’ve missed seeing you home.”

I have trouble telling whether Olivia’s replying smile is forced, but her dad wraps her up in a hug before I can decide. She softens, hugging him back, and I linger behind, arms behind my back.

“It’s three in the morning. This couldn’t have waited until later?”

He draws back, smiling as he pinches her cheek. “I tried calling. It’s been weeks since we talked.” His eyes dance to the antique piano crammed against the wall behind her. A pair of black glasses sit atop a stack of music pages. “There they are. I’ve been looking everywhere for these.” He walks across the room, unfolding the glasses before setting them on his nose. “Besides,” he continues. “I know you wouldn’t just stop by if I asked.”

Olivia rubs her temples, sighing. “I have a lot going on, Dad. You know that.”

“You can always make time for your old man, right?” His smile is casual, and when he suddenly deigns to remember that I’m in the room, he motions me inside before reclining at his desk.

Acceptance, or something close to defeat, falls over his daughter. “Of course I can, I just…” I know even with her back turned that her attention floats to me. “You didn’t ask me here just to see me.”

“Right.” Harvey claps, tapping the edge of the desk.

My eyes hone in on the movement. Over the past few weeks, I’ve met with Harvey several times to plan out logistics and map the house. He’s usually jumpy. Erratic. All things common of a man recently threatened.

I don’t know that I can trust him as far as I can throw him, but it’s too late to turn back now. I knew this job was a risk even before discovering that Olivia was my new client.

She clears her throat, and Harvey is silent for a beat before she asks, “Is everything okay?”

“When you came by the hospital after the accident, I wasn’t exactly…” He searches for the words. “Forthright.” He motions for her to sit. “There’s something I want to ask you. Before you shut it down, I want you to hear me out. Okay?”

She drops into a seat, quietly waiting for him to continue. What happened wasn’t an accident. It was premeditated, and he still bears the scars. I eye the pink mark marring his brow now.

“I want you to move back in,” Harvey states, and I can’t quite read Olivia’s silence. “I know what you’re thinking: You’re all grown up. You don’t need my help. But this isn’t about that-“

“Dad-“

“I hired Warden for a reason. I would feel much better if you were here. It would make his job ten times easier. No running this way and that. Just you and I. Together again.”

Her voice is a whisper, the only indication that she might be upset. “Dad… I can’t go backwards.”

He nods, seemingly understanding. “It’s safe here. I can take care of you. I promised your mother I would, and this is the way to do it.”

Thoughts eddy away, and for a few moments, I’m rolling my shoulders, trying not to think about what kind of father uses his late wife’s death to get his way.

It’s not my job to judge these people. I should start acting like it.

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