He nods, his expression serious. “Yes, that’s what I said.”
“And why the fuck would I do that?” I ask angrily, doing my best to squash the fury attempting to blind me to all reason. She could’ve had anyone, but instead she chose to lie to me to get me to go along with her plan. But why?
He says nothing, instead pushes his chair back from his desk and stands. Leaning forward, he grabs a frame from beside his monitor then carries it around his desk and stops in front of me, holding it out to me.
I stare up at him, ignoring his outstretched hand. After a moment he turns it so I can see the picture. It’s Cassidy, looking away from the camera, but smiling adoringly at someone off to the side. She looks radiant, excited, beautiful. And totally infatuated with whomever it is she’s staring at.
“When was that taken?”
“A few months ago.”
I stare hard at the image, trying to place where it may have been taken, but the look of adoration she’s pointing at some unknown figure has my cackles rising. “Well,” I snipe. “Maybe she should’ve married whatever dipshit she’s giving the googley eyes to.”
Conrad laughs. “You think?”
I nod, jealousy once again hot in my veins. “Sure. Tell me who he is, I’ll send him her number.”
“It’s probably better,” He pauses, opens the back of the frame, removes the photo, hands it to me. “If you see for yourself.”
I give him my best unamused look, but he just continues to hold the picture in front of me until, finally, I take it. Sure enough, the picture was folded so only Cassidy was shown in the frame. Part of me wants to rip the picture into a million pieces, to set it aflame, to pretend it never existed.
But the larger part of me, the sick twisted part that seems to like the idea of pain has me slowly unfolding the picture, my eyes entirely focused on Cassidy’s beaming face until I have no choice but to look at the sad son of a bastard she obviously holds great feeling for.
Slowly, I slide my eyes over. Then blink a few times, convinced I’ve lost my entire fucking mind as I recognize the man beside Cassidy.
It’s…me.
Cassidy is staring at—me.
“I don’t understand,” I mutter, my anger completely deflating as I stare at the image of us—together. A moment in time I don’t even remember, though I’m sure she remembers as if it was only yesterday.
I glance at Conrad who’s now seated in the chair beside mine as the location of this image dawns on me. “The interview.”
He smiles, nods. “My daughter is a lot of things?—”
“Mentally ill?” I interject with a huff, only half joking.
Conrad gives me a stern look that doesn’t quite meet his eyes, and then he responds, “Aren’t we all, in our own way?”
“That’s fair.”
He sighs heavily, slouching down in the chair. “I won’t lie and say I always did right by her. She had every opportunity that money could buy, but what she didn’t have was the close familial unit that she always craved.”
“She has mentioned that,” I reply. “She even mentioned this interview in particular, but she made it sound like she was eavesdropping behind the scenes, not sitting practically in my lap.”
“She likely wasn’t as close as that photo implies,” Conrad explains, his expression rather sheepish. “But Cassidy excels at being neither seen nor heard until she wants to be.”
“You ain’t fucking kidding.”
“I won’t give you all the gnarly details of her upbringing since I don’t feel it’s my story to tell. But just know that Cassidy is the most genuine, soft-hearted woman you’ll ever meet…” he drifts off as I give him some serious side eye, then he laughs softly and adds, “once you manage to earn her trust and break through the seemingly impenetrable walls she’s built for herself, of course.”
We fall into a companionable silence I’m grateful for as I mull over what I’ve learned in a very short span of time. As I question what all of it even means. Is Cassidy just batshit crazy? Or is she so dead set on getting what she wants that she’ll cross any boundary to get it? Is she so desperate for the family she was denied that she engineered one of her own making?
Glancing at my watch, I sit up, jump to my feet. “I better get back.”
“What are you going to do?”
I pause then shrug. “No fucking idea.”
