Isabella and the Slipper, page 11
Okay. It’s a date.
Hot dang, a real date with Five. My dreams have come true.
Lol.
You do speak text!
That’s the only one I know.
Chase spent the next fifteen minutes cluing her in on all the acronyms people used. He also tried to get her to download Snapchat, but she refused. No way was she ever going to be tricked into sending a video or photo of herself. And knowing her technical skills, that’s exactly what she’d do.
She fell asleep with her cheek pressed to her phone.
At seven o’clock, her phone vibrated and woke her up.
She made it through the night. She’s responding well to treatment. Doctors are hopeful.
Her eyes teared up, and relief lightened her chest.
Such good news.
Thanks for talking with me last night. It really helped.
I’m glad.
You didn’t ask me to the dance just to take my mind off my sister, did you?
No. I really want to go with you.
Ok. Because even if you did, I wouldn’t mind.
Isabella smiled and snuggled into her covers. I’m looking forward to it.
Me too.
“Isabella!” Her stepmother’s shrieking voice carried through the house. Her door handle rattled, but it was locked. “Open this door at once. You’re not getting out of your punishment. The gallery opens in a half hour!”
Gotta go.
K. Chat later.
The pounding continued. “I’m getting dressed!” Isabella shouted as she stumbled out of bed.
“If I don’t see you dressed and out the door in ten minutes, I’m taking away your phone.”
Isabella stuck her tongue out at the closed door. Yes, it was childish. No, she didn’t care. “All right!”
She took the fastest shower known to woman and tossed on some clothes. She stuffed her homework and phone in her backpack and made it downstairs with a few seconds to spare. Good thing, too, because she hadn’t deleted Chase’s contact information. She should probably do that before Elenore decided to get grabby with her phone.
“I’m ready,” she said, trying to catch her breath.
Elenore set down her iPad and crossed her arms. “Good. You’ll cover for Leilani today. I gave her the day off.”
Isabella forced herself to keep from reacting. “Okay.” She grabbed an apple and headed toward the door.
“And we’re terminating our agreement with Elsa Johnson. You’ll need to take down all of her art and package it for shipping.”
What? Isabella’s shoulders slumped. What a pain. She’d have to work on that all day. “Yes, ma’am.”
Elenore narrowed her eyes. “And I want you to do it after hours.”
“Why?”
“You’re taking over for Leilani today. Helping customers will be your main priority. I don’t want you focused on other things. Wait until after business hours to take down Elsa’s art.”
Isabella ground her teeth together. If she said anything back to Elenore, she’d regret it. “Okay.”
She left before Elenore could tell her to also scrub the floors.
Chapter 15
Disappointment settled in Isabella’s gut as she walked, her backpack slung over one shoulder. She had been looking forward to spending the evening with Chase. Especially after last night. Now she’d be stuck at the gallery all night, rearranging the sales floor.
Thoughts of Chase standing behind her, showing her his phone app, made her pulse race. She unlocked the gallery door and flipped over the Open sign. After turning on the lights and waking up her computer, she leaned back in her chair and waited for someone to enter the gallery.
Twenty minutes later, the front door chimed and Mr. Kato walked in wearing his ever-present three-piece suit. Isabella ran to the front room to greet him. “Welcome, Mr. Kato. Come on in.”
“How’s my little art mouse?” He pulled her into a hug.
Isabella laughed at the silly name he’d started calling her when she was younger, back when her father had run the gallery. “I’m fine. How are you?”
Mr. Kato wore a smile like some women wore makeup: with gusto. He was a short man, like his wife, and Isabella had passed him up on height last year when she’d finally reached five foot six. His black hair had a few rebellious gray ones growing in around his ears. He pulled back and searched her face. “You look more and more like your father every day.”
“I don’t know if that’s a compliment or not,” she said, laughing. Her father had been handsome, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to look like a man.
“A very feminine version,” he corrected. “How’s the painting going?”
She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I’ll show you.”
His eyes lit up. “Ah, you have a photo?”
She swiped the screen and touched the image of her poppies. “I painted this last week.”
He took her phone from her and smiled. “I like the movement in this one. I can see the wind.”
“That’s why I like it, too.” She ran her finger across the screen, and her latest painting showed up.
“Ah,” he said. “I love this one.” He turned to her. “Your use of light in this is amazing. You have improved.”
She grinned. “Really?”
“You are just as good as your father.”
The compliment made her blush. “Thank you.”
“Would you sell this one to me?”
“Yes! Totally!” She tried not to bounce up and down on her toes. She’d never sold a painting before.
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars for it.”
“What? It’s not worth that.” She blushed again.
“My dear,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “If your father had painted it, I would be paying one million for it. A thousand is a bargain. And I believe you will go on to surpass your father’s fame, so for me, it’s an investment.”
Warmth radiated through her. She hugged Mr. Kato and held in a squeal. “I don’t know what to say.”
His grin widened. “Say you’ll bring me this painting.”
“I will!”
Mr. Kato walked through the gallery and purchased one more painting. Isabella wrote up the sales ticket for it and removed it from the wall. She helped him get it into his vehicle, her heart beating wildly. After he left, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She pulled out her phone.
I sold a painting!
Chase answered her right away. Wow! Congratulations! Is it one you showed me?
Yes. The tree branches in the sunlight.
I knew that was a good one! How much did you sell it for?
A thousand dollars!
Snap! Are you serious?
Yes. I’m shaking I’m so happy!
Good for you.
The doorbell chimed and Isabella walked out to meet the next customers. A man and a woman she didn’t recognize were admiring the sculpture in the entrance. “Welcome to the Vibrant Hue. Let me know if you need anything.”
The couple smiled at her, and the woman nodded. “We will,” she said.
Isabella moved to stand behind the counter. Another text came through. My sister is continuing to improve. Doctors say she can go home tomorrow.
I’m so relieved.
Me, too. I was scared. She was super sick. She could have died.
I know. It made my heart hurt.
Thanks again for being there for me, Five.
Isabella smiled and texted back. Anytime.
After the couple left the gallery, Isabella walked around and took note of how many pieces they had from Elsa’s collection. She planned out in her mind where things would go to make the gallery look full. At lunchtime she went into the break room and made herself a sandwich. She had to call Chase, and was getting nervous about it.
After lunch, she cleared her throat, picked up the landline, and dialed Chase’s number. He answered after the second ring. “Hello?”
She cleared her throat. “Hey, this is Isabella.”
“Hi.”
“I’m at work. Which is why I was calling. I can’t meet up with you tonight. I have to work late.”
“Seriously? How late?”
Isabella twisted the curly black cord around her finger. “I’m probably going to be here all night.”
Chase whistled. “What’s going on at the art gallery that you have to be there all night?”
“We’re severing a contract with an artist. All her art has to come down, get packaged up, and then the remaining pieces have to be moved to make the gallery look full.”
“Aw, man.”
“Yeah, it’s a pain.”
“Do you want some help?”
Isabella froze. He’d help her? That would be awesome. But she’d be in so much trouble if Elenore or Delilah found out. “Nah, I’m okay.”
“All right. See you in school, then.”
She said goodbye and hung up the phone. It would have been nice to have Chase’s help, but she didn’t want to risk anyone finding out. Elenore did show up at the gallery sometimes.
Isabella sat down at her computer and started removing Elsa’s artwork from the website. It didn’t take long, and she spent the rest of the day standing behind the counter while customers walked around. When the gallery was empty, she went into the office, finished her homework, and watched the clock.
As soon as seven o’clock rolled around, she flipped the Open sign over and locked the door. She hurried to the largest display Elsa had and started dismantling it—a series of six paintings that formed one large painting when hung together. It was a brilliant set of art. One of Isabella’s favorites. She’d be sad to see it go.
A knock sounded on the glass at the front door, and Isabella grew nervous. Who could be there after hours, knocking? She was suddenly aware how alone she was in the dark gallery. She peered out the front way to see if she could tell who it was.
Chase stood at the door, his hands up to the glass, looking in. His backpack was slung over one shoulder. She smiled in relief and went to let him in. She turned the lock. “What are you doing here?”
“I ran into Delilah and Ava at the mall. They were dress shopping for the fall formal with your mom. Looked like they’d be at it for hours, so I thought I’d come help you.” He peered into her eyes. “That’s why you said not to come, right? You didn’t want Delilah to see us hanging out together.”
She nodded, the butterflies in her stomach going crazy. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure they’ll be tied up for quite some time. I told her she’d look good in silver. That was the one dress color I didn’t see there.”
Isabella giggled. “You’re awful.”
He grinned. “I know. Now, what can I do to help?”
“I was just starting to take down the first display.” She led him back into the showroom and showed him how to carefully take down the art and remove the metal hooks.
Chase leaned his backpack against the wall and picked up the container of hooks. “This doesn’t look too bad.”
“No, this part will go fast. It’s the rearranging the rest of the pieces to make the gallery look full that will take a while.”
“I see.” He glanced around. “Together, it should go faster.”
She smiled. “Definitely.”
He gave her a cocky, crooked smile that made his dimple show. “My curfew isn’t until midnight. I think we can get it all done.”
She tried to calm her nerves and just nodded. They worked at taking down the pieces of art and wrapping them in butcher paper to be crated for shipping. Isabella wasn’t in charge of the crating process, she just had to get the butcher paper on them and stack them in the back room; Paco would do the rest. He was good at making sure the art would ship without damage.
After an hour, all of the pieces were down. Isabella wiped her hands on her jeans. “Now we need to reposition the spotlights and start moving around the other pieces.”
Chase looked up at the lighting. “Do you have a ladder?”
She motioned to the other room. “In the back.”
He followed her into the storage room. She picked up the small folded step ladder and turned to leave, not realizing he was right behind her. She collided with his chest, dropping the ladder. He grabbed her so she didn’t fall.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice low.
She stood there a moment, pressed up against him with her heart pounding a thousand times a second. He gazed into her eyes, and then he did something she would never have expected. He slowly removed her glasses. She blinked up at his face, now blurry.
“Have you ever thought about getting contacts?”
If she had been drinking, she would have spit on him. Luckily, she was saved from that humiliation. She coughed and tried to smile. “No,” she managed to say.
“You have pretty eyes, but your glasses hide them.”
Isabella’s knees grew wobbly and breathing became difficult. She swallowed. “Really? I always thought they were so plain. Just brown. Like the color of mud.”
Chase let out a hearty laugh. “I’d say more like chocolate.”
Heat rose to her cheeks. Why had she said that to him? It was always something she’d thought, but not said out loud. “Well, that’s way better.”
He tilted her chin up until their lips were just a breath apart. “Why don’t you have more confidence?” His voice was almost a whisper.
“I’m nobody.” The words were out before she thought about them. Panic rose in her throat.
What had she just done?
Chase’s eyes widened, and he took a step back from her.
She grabbed her glasses from his hand and jammed them back on her face. “I mean, I’m not an extrovert. It’s hard for me to put myself out there, you know?” She picked up the step ladder and walked around Chase and into the other room. Her cheeks were on fire. She needed to catch her breath and get a handle on herself before she ruined everything.
Chapter 16
Chase stood in the back room, stunned. Were Isabella and Five the same person? He followed her into the showroom, his mind reeling with the possibility. As he thought about everything he knew about Five—the artwork, her home life—it made sense that it could be Isabella. But if he asked, and it was true, she’d freak out. She might even shove him out the door. It was best if he didn’t let her know his suspicions.
He ignored the blush on Isabella’s cheeks and stood on the stepladder, turning the spotlights, moving the ladder, and doing it again at the next vacant spot. As he worked, she took down the art she wanted to move. She brushed her hair from her forehead when they were done. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
All he could think about as the night progressed was Five and Isabella, reconciling the two as one person. He knew Five’s father was an artist. It went right along with the art gallery. He made a mental note to go online and do some research into who owned the Vibrant Hue.
They finished the showrooms at ten fifteen. Chase stuffed his fists into his pockets. He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to explore this new information he had. His crush on Five suddenly became much more real. Five was standing right in front of him, and his attraction to Isabella was growing.
“I have some time. Do you want to go over our notes and start on our paper? I have my stuff in my backpack.”
Isabella’s gaze ducked to the floor. “Okay. I have my notes in the office. We can go in there.”
They sat at the table, and Isabella slung her backpack to the floor. She fished around in it until she found her science notebook, then slapped it on the table. An embarrassed smile flitted across her face.
Chase grinned at her. “Tell me about your family.” He hoped she wouldn’t shy away from him asking.
She fiddled with her pen. “My family situation is weird.”
He shrugged. “That’s okay. I still want to know.”
She dug the toe of her shoe into the carpet. “My parents are both gone. My mother died when I was little—car accident—and my father died of brain cancer when I was twelve.”
His throat closed, and he swallowed. How horrible for her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Delilah and Ava are my stepsisters.” She looked at him, and he kept his face passive. He didn’t want her to think he’d figured out who she was.
“I guessed you weren’t blood sisters since you don’t look anything alike. Is there a reason you don’t get along?”
Isabella avoided his gaze. “Delilah was insanely jealous of me when my father remarried. I guess she thought I was daddy’s favorite. And Ava was always very insecure. She followed after Delilah in everything. When my father passed away, things just got worse. I guess they didn’t like that I had a father for so long, and they barely got any time with him.”
“What about your stepmother?”
Isabella’s cheeks colored, and she shook her head. “She hates me,” she whispered.
“So you’re in a house full of people who constantly tell you you’re worthless.” The words made his heart ache, and Isabella’s frown confirmed it. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “You don’t know how badly I want to go tell the whole lot of them off.”
A smile cracked her face. “I’ve tried that. Didn’t work out so well.”
Wanting to lighten the mood, Chase unzipped the small pouch of his backpack and pulled out a bag of Skittles. “I brought us a snack.”
“Perfect.” Isabella stood. “I’ll be right back.”
She left the room and came back with a ceramic bowl. “Let’s dump them in here.”
“So I can’t separate out the colors. I see. You’re trying to force your Skittles religion on me.”
“Yep.” A grin told him she was teasing. She took the bag from him and tore it open. They made pinging noises as she dumped them into the bowl.
He stood behind her and reached around to pick up a purple one. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “What if I combined my favorite flavor”—he picked up a green one—“with my least favorite one? Would it still taste good?”
Isabella swallowed. “I don’t know.”
He popped them in his mouth and chewed, making a face. “My rainbow is lacking. What’s your favorite and least favorite?”
