He's a good man

ISLA'S POV

I gazed at my reflection in the full-length mirror in my lavish walk in closet, admiring the sun-kissed burnt orange beach dress Hailey had picked out for me during our recent shopping spree. Hailey, my quirky and ever-fun-loving best friend, had meticulously crafted a list of all the adventures we were going to embark on this summer. That was so typical of her.

Slipping on a pair of golden strappy sandals, I hoped Hailey would approve and wouldn’t feel the need to raid my closet in search of shoes she deemed more suitable. With an amused sigh, I mentally rolled my eyes as I picked up my phone to take a picture of the sandals, planning to send it to Hailey on W******p for her verdict. Just as I was about to take the photo, a knock on the door interrupted me.

"Isla, could you come downstairs for a moment?" My father's voice called out. It was calm, but with a hint of urgency that made my heart skip a beat.

I couldn't help but wonder what he needed to tell me. It was so unlike him to demand my attention in such a composed yet pressing manner. My mind immediately jumped to the worst case scenario. Was Mom sick? It was a scene straight out of a movie, where the father summons his daughter only to break the devastating news.

As I made my way down the stairs, my thoughts raced. What if Mom had only a year or even a few months to live? The mere idea sent a chill down my spine, and a gasp escaped my lips in pure fear. Could it be that she had been hiding an illness from us, just like in the movies, where she pretends to be healthy to spare everyone worry?

The cold grip of fear tightened around me as I clutched the railing for support. My legs felt like jelly, and my knees threatened to buckle under the weight of my fear.

As I entered the living room, I noticed my parents seated a few meters apart on the couch, engrossed in an animated discussion. What on earth was going on?

"Mom, Dad?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "What’s happening?" My voice was barely a whisper, my eyes wide with worry as I searched their faces for answers.

Even though my mom wasn't always present, she made up for it by spoiling me with everything I needed. The thought of anything happening to her was unbearable; it would shatter me. I couldn't even entertain the possibility. At that moment, I felt an overwhelming urge to run to her, wrap her in a tight embrace, and tell her how much I loved and appreciated her.

"Isla, dear, come sit," my mom beckoned, flashing a sweet, inviting smile. Was this a facade? Was it all a charade to make me believe everything was fine? Did they really think I was still a child?

I walked slowly to the couch, feeling like a lamb being led to slaughter, and sat down between them.

What on earth were they going to talk about? Let it be anything, anything at all that didn't involve the fears weighing down my heart at this moment.

"Isla, dear," my mom began, her voice soft yet serious, "as you know, your dad and I have accepted a position in Dublin. It's a fantastic opportunity, but it means we'll be away for an extended period of time."

Really? Was this what they wanted to talk about? I felt a wave of relief, but anger still simmered beneath the surface.

"Dublin? Is that a place in Chicago? Or somewhere in America I haven't heard of? Or do you mean Ireland?... a whole continent away?" I forced a smile, keeping my voice steady. "That's wonderful. I'm so happy for you both."

My dad  placed his huge hand on mine and squeezed it gently, grazing his palm that had been made rough from several years of overworking. His gaze completely softened.

 "We've decided it's best if you stay here, at least for the time being. We've made arrangements for you to stay with…." He paused, his eyes searching mine.".....with Mr Robert Hardy."

"What?!" I blurted out in shock. The name struck me like a bolt of lightning. Robert Hardy? The man of my steamy and forbidden dreams. The very man I have hand a huge crush on ever since my young girly heart knew what it meant to feel. The same man my father considered his best friend? 

My breath hitched. My mind raced with a mixture of excitement and dread. This was my chance, my only chance to finally get the man of my misty dreams. 

The thought of staying under the same roof with Robert Hardy made my mind think of all the naughty things I could do to him. I was sitting in between my parents and shamelessly having these thoughts. Going after my dad's best friend would betray my parents trust, I couldn't risk their friendship with Robert. Yet, the allure of the forbidden was too strong for me to just push to the back of my mind because it all came rushing in, all my secret desires and sexual fantasies came rushing in. 

"Isla?" My dad called softly, jolting me back to reality. I hope they hadn't seen how crazily excited I was about this whole idea of going to live with Robert.

"Mr Hardy?" The name managed to roll out of my lips. Just the sound of this name made me hot. "I…i don't know what to say."

My father's expression turned into understanding. "I know this is sudden, Isla. But I trust Robert. I've discussed this with him and he doesn't mind. You'll be working with him as his secretary. You need to be groomed, the company belongs to you after all."

My mouth opened but no words came out. Okay, let me digest this. Firstly, I would be living with Robert in his house, secondly, I would be his secretary and go about with him? Holy mother of bugs! Was this a dream? If it was, I don't ever wanna wake up.

"He'll look after you, Isla, he's a good man," my mom said, patting my back softly.

Yes of course, Robert Hardy was unarguably a good man but was I a good daughter?