Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Forty-Eight

Eliza

It’sthe end of another long day at the office. The phones have finally stopped ringing and the hallways are quiet. Almost everyone has gone home.

Through the windows, Sin Valley is dark and the flamboyant lights of the Strip blink against the black sky.

I’m leaned over the filing cabinet in the corner of Liam’s office, pretending not to feel his eyes humping every inch of my ass. I smile to myself.

Last night was a long night. Going to the Paragons game. Getting drinks at the Cathedral Pub afterward. Then…All. That. Sex.

I should be tired but there’s something about being with my husband that energizes me, makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever been.

Over my shoulder, we share a secret smile.

My attention snaps toward the door when Desiree suddenly bursts into Liam’s office like a category five storm. She barely even acknowledges me. The woman’s expression is all gloomy rage as she arrows toward the boss’s desk, nothing like the sunny disposition she wore over drinks just a few nights ago.

Liam’s face tenses with concern. “Desiree, is something wrong?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” She slaps a sheet of paper onto his desk. “I just got this email from my contact over at Varner’s office. The woman didn’t realize that you’d recently removed me from the file. So she reached out to me for a progress report on the deal.”

Liam scan’s the paper and his smile drops off his face like an overripe apple falling off the tree.

Or I assume that’s what an apple looks like falling off a tree. I’m not a fucking farmer. But I do know that the expression on his face looks a whole lot like guilt.

Desiree is barely controlling her anger. “Liam, what is this?” she demands.

My husband recovers smoothly, straightening his tie, lifting his chin and looking Desiree in the eyes. “Relocating the community center is now one of the conditions of the Varner project.”

When he says that, I blink. What? How did I not know that. Standing immobile beside the file cabinet, I stay quiet and listen.

“Relocating the community center?” The single mother speaks carefully but her voice trembles. “To where?”

“That hasn’t been determined yet,” Liam volleys back.

“When?”

“I’m not sure.”

She points to the email. “Liam, it says here that demolition is scheduled to start in just a few weeks. That means the community center will be gone in just a few weeks.”

“Yes, temporarily.” His face remains blank, like none of this bothers him.

Desiree pushes her words through her teeth. “Do you understand how many kids in this town rely on the community center every day? How many families? The seniors? And you would just—”

“Enough!” Liam slams a fist into his tabletop and Desiree startles. “You are my employee. You don’t make the decisions around here. And I sure as hell don’t owe you any explanations about my projects.” His eyes narrow like the blade of a sword. “The only thing I owe you is a pay check if and when you do your job. So I’d recommend that you hop to it if you want to keep receiving those.”

Desiree wants to say so much more. I can see it. But she needs this job. She’s a single parent. She can’t risk getting kicked into the unemployment line.

“Got it, boss,” she murmurs. She blazes out of the room, her eyes two fiery orbs swimming in an ocean of unshed tears.

Liam gets up from his chair and pounds the floor over to his liquor cart.

As he pours himself a drink, I pick up the sheet of paper off of his desk. My heart trembles in my chest as I read the email requesting confirmation that demolition will be carried out as per the schedule.

Again—how the heck did I not know about this?

My mind goes back to the weekend brunch meeting Liam left me out of and I realize that he kept this from me deliberately.

My soul aches for all the people who rely on the center—Granny Bellino and her friends, kids like Nathan, overwhelmed mamas like Desiree. It’s not too hard to put myself and my family into those shoes. Once upon a time, my childhood household relied on community resources, too.

It’s impossible that Liam would leave those people out in the cold just to advance his agenda.

I wave the sheet of paper in the air to get his attention. “So this is what you’re willing to stoop to to get ahead? This is how low you’re willing to go?” I feel angry tears coming to my own eyes.

He roars again. “I’m sick and tired of having to keep reminding my employees who’s the boss around here.”

“Don’t you dare yell at me!”

“Eliza, this is business,” he grinds out. “Sometimes difficult decisions have to be made.” His whole demeanor straddles this line between not having a care in the world and carrying it all on his shoulders.

“This time, you decided wrong, Liam,” I say, desperate to convince him to change his mind.

He responds with dead silence, turning his back to me and staring out at the Strip, his whiskey dangling from his fingers.

In this moment, it feels like I’ve married a man with a ‘For Sale’ sign on his soul and a saltine cracker in his chest right where his heart should be.

And the worst part is, I can’t help that I’ve fallen in love with him.

Stupid, stupid feelings. Trying to convince me that I know this man, that he cares about this town, that he cares about the people who live here. Even though his actions indicate the contrary.

“How many kids won’t have a safe place to spend their afternoons, evenings and weekends once this building is destroyed?” I continue. “How many food drives will be held in parking lots instead of a warm building with a roof overhead? Which of those families will lose their ability to pay their bills, because their jobs are demolished, alongside the center? How many mentorships for struggling youth will be dissolved because these kids won’t have a place to meet up with the volunteers who may save their lives?”

My soul is aching. Still, I get nothing from him…and that just makes me cry.

I step across the office toward him, daring to lay a hand on his shoulder. I try again to appeal to his humanity. My voice softens. “What’s the point of having all the money in the world if you can’t be proud of how you made it? If it leaves you feeling ashamed of yourself?”

“Ashamed?!” Liam practically spits. He faces me head-on. “Who the fuck said I was ashamed of myself?”

“You’re ashamed because you knew this was wrong and you did it anyway.”

“I bet you know a whole lot about being ashamed with as much as you’re hiding. I’ve told you everything about me, yet I can’t squeeze a damn thing out of you about your past. And you have the nerve to accuse me of being ashamed. That’s fucking rich.” His words stab me, making me feel like the hypocrite I know that I am. He takes an angry gulp of whiskey. “You, more than anyone, know that this is not about money for me. I’m doing this for my family’s legacy. To make my father proud.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your dad would be real proud of you for tearing down the community center that anchors this town,” I mutter, my heart wrenching with pain.

He stalks back over to his desk, drops into his seat and gets back to work. “I’m done with this conversation.”

So am I.

Calmly, I head back to the filing cabinet and close the open drawers. I face Liam one more time. “You want to talk about difficult decisions? Sometimes, the most difficult decision is walking away. Because it’s the right thing to do, even if it’s the last thing you want to do…And that’s what I’m choosing right now.”

Before I can get to the door, Liam springs out of his seat. He grabs my wrist. “You’re my wife. What’s it gonna take to get you on my side, Eliza?” His granite eyes are hard and determined.

“A conscience. You’re gonna need one of those.” I yank my arm out of his hold and walk out the door.