Page 14 of July
11
Charity
Pure happiness had been within my grasp for one brief, wonderful night. After having glimpsed it, I’m not willing to give it up without a fight. I’ll do anything to be with Garrett, even if that means confronting the woman standing between us. I hate and generally try to avoid any kind of verbal confrontation, but Garrett is worth any amount of discomfort.
Breaking things off with me had not been his decision. I know he would be with me, if he was able to do so without risking his visitation with his son. There’s only one way to achieve that, so I need to figure out a way to win over his ex-wife.
It isn’t difficult to find Jillian’s thriving wedding planning storefront. It’s in a classic brick building in an up-and-coming business district. Her office’s neighbors include a modern art gallery and a fabulous-smelling bakery with outdoor seating.
It’s obvious from the outside of her business that the woman is on the fast-track to monumental success, but the perfectly decorated indoor space is even more impressive. The classy, yet comfortable seating areas, beautiful floral arrangements, and subtle twinkling lights would make even the most hesitant of brides dream of a wedding fit for a princess.
I slowly twirl around and allow myself to envision marrying Garrett in a lavish, but tasteful ceremony. Jillian interrupts my fantasy by hissing in a snippy tone, “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk,” I tell her firmly.
“I’m booked all morning,” she answers.
Undeterred by her attempt to brush me off, I smile and say, “I’ll wait.”
She gives me an exasperated eye roll before whirling around on her classic heels and swishing away from me. I make myself comfortable and settle in to wait until she finds some time to speak to me.
Excited couples come in like clockwork to discuss plans for their big days. Jillian is professional and welcoming––the exact opposite of how she greeted me.
Eventually, she comes to stand in front of me. In a flat tone, she says, “I have ten minutes.”
Grateful for the offer, I follow the woman to her elegant office as I say, “Thank you so much for squeezing me in. I can see that you’re busy.”
Rather than answering, she ushers me to a chair directly across from her massive desk. In a crisp tone, she asks, “What can I do for you?”
My nerves kick into high gear at her perturbed, raised eyebrow. After clearing my throat, I say, “My name is Charity Strong, and I…”
She interrupts me to say, “I know who you are.”
The momentum of my planned speech is thrown off by her terse interruption. I stammer, “Oh, right. Okay, then. First off, I want to apologize for our first introduction.”
She scoffs at my word choice. Realizing that her seeing my bare ass high in the air through a window isn’t exactly an introduction, I try to brush past it and forge on. In a serious tone, I say, “I hope Silas didn’t see anything he shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t think he did. I was able to quickly cover his eyes and get him out of there before too much damage was done.”
Refusing to feel guilty for finally being intimate with the man I love, I say, “I want you to know that I’m not just a floozy who sleeps with men on the first date. Garrett is very special to me.”
Her mouth barely moves when she admits, “I know how much the two of you mean to each other.”
Startled that she has shared this with me, I merely say, “Oh.”
When I fail to find more words, Jillian continues. “You must understand that I can’t have my son seeing things like that. Since the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, I have no choice but to stop him from being around you.”
“But we didn’t know you were bringing him over. We never would have been caught in a situation like that if we’d realized,” I try, but she is giving me a disgusted glare.
Realizing that defending myself isn’t working at all, I change gears. My voice is filled with sincerity when I say, “Please, don’t do this. Garrett won’t give up his son, nor should he. But he deserves to be happy. Doesn’t he?”
Rather than answering my question, Jillion says, “You must think I’m such a fraud for selling the dream of a perfect wedding when my own marriage fell apart.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t think that at all. It’s obvious that you’re very good at what you do and that you have a thriving business. In fact, I think it’s wonderful that you’re able to help couples create their dream weddings, despite the fact that your marriage didn’t work out as you’d hoped.”
“My marriage was doomed to fail even before it began,” she admits quietly.
At my questioning gaze, she adds, “Having to get married because of a pregnancy is an archaic philosophy, but Garrett wanted to do right by me. He’s a good man, and he tried hard to make it work. He found thoughtful ways to take care of me, like washing my car and filling it up with gas. Things probably would have worked out for us if you hadn’t been between us in our marriage bed.”
