Isabella and the Slipper, page 12
“Red is my favorite.”
He pulled out a red one. “And your least?”
“Yellow.”
He dug in the bowl until he found a yellow one. “Okay, turn around and open up.”
She did as he said and closed her eyes as well, her eyelashes resting on her cheeks. He placed the candies on her tongue. “Now, chew.”
Her eyes flew open as her jaw worked, a smile forming on her face. “I taste a robust rainbow.”
He stared at her lips and suddenly had a strong urge to taste the rainbow, too. He took a step back to stop himself from making a mistake. “Guess I just need to find a better combination.”
They ate Skittles and worked on their paper until it was almost midnight. Chase gathered up his things and stuffed them into his backpack. “Let me drive you home. I’ll stop a block away again.”
Isabella gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
They turned off all the lights in the gallery, and Isabella locked the door. The moonlight shone on her face, and he tried not to look at her lips. If he wasn’t careful, he’d do something to scare her off.
He opened the car door for her and then slid into his seat, clicking on the stereo. He had his favorite Beatles CD in, and “I Want to Hold Your Hand” came on. He held in a groan.
He tried to take his mind off his desire to put the moves on Isabella. “Do you think your stepmother will be happy you got everything arranged?”
“I hope so.” Isabella stared off, not allowing her gaze to meet his.
She fiddled with her sleeve, and he noticed a bruise on her upper arm, peeking out. It looked like finger marks. He pulled out into traffic, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his skin was tight on his knuckles. When he turned onto Isabella’s street, he slowed the car.
“If I ask you something, would you answer truthfully?”
Her face blanched, and she clutched the strap of her backpack. “Maybe.”
Well, at least that was an honest answer. “Does your stepmother ever hurt you?”
Visible relief flooded over her, and her shoulders fell. “No. She’s mean, but not in that way.” She glanced at her house.
“So, the bruise on your arm . . . ?” He wasn’t sure how to finish the question, so he let it hang.
Her hand flew to her arm, covering the purple marks. “Well . . .” She didn’t say anything more but didn’t have to.
Chase suddenly wanted to punch someone. Preferably Isabella’s stepmother. He clenched his teeth to avoid saying something he’d regret. The seconds ticked by as words tumbled around in his head. “That’s physical abuse, Isabella.”
“I guess I should have said she doesn’t usually get like that.” She drew into herself like she wanted to disappear from his car.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
She stared down at her lap. “You’re right, though. I need to stop defending her.”
“You could go to the police. Press charges. Maybe they’d remove you from the house.”
Isabella’s gaze snapped up to his. “For a bruise on the arm? I’d be right back with her after a week—if they’d remove me at all. And she’d be furious.” She blinked, and fear shone in her eyes. “It could get much, much worse,” she whispered.
Chase clenched his hands into fists. Was she right? Would they put her back into that situation? He wasn’t sure, but understood why Isabella wouldn’t want to take that chance.
She laid her hand on his knee. “I’m going to be out of there after I graduate. Just eight months. That’s all I have. If I can endure until then, I’ll be fine.”
He placed his hand on hers, her smooth skin making his heart beat faster. “Will you promise me something?”
She hesitated. “What?”
“Promise me if she starts getting physical again, you’ll call 911? Or me, and I’ll come get you?”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Good.” Because if he saw any more bruises on Isabella, he’d have to be dragged off her stepmother in handcuffs.
“Night, Chase,” she said, her hand on the door handle.
“Have sweet dreams, Isabella.”
She gave him a sideways glance, then smiled and nodded. She climbed out of the car and walked up the street to her house. He stayed back but made sure she got in the door okay. He waited until he saw her bedroom light flood the balcony, then he pulled out his phone and texted.
Hey, Five, how are you?
Tired. But fine.
He looked at the clock. It was after midnight now. Oops. He knew he shouldn’t have texted her. He shouldn’t know she was still awake. Oh, sorry, just looked at the clock. Were you asleep?
No. Just heading to bed. How’s your sister?
Continuing to improve. He paused, wanting to ask if she got in trouble when she walked in the door, but it would have given him away. Instead, he texted, Thanks for everything, Five.
You’re welcome. Good night.
Night.
Chase drove home, his mind unable to settle down. He didn’t need any more proof that Five was indeed Isabella—or that Isabella was being abused at home. But what could he do about it? That was the real question that gnawed at his gut.
Chapter 17
Isabella woke up to the sound of Elenore shrieking her name. She moaned and rolled over, putting her pillow on her head. Why was she even up now? It was too-early-thirty.
“Isabella!” Someone pounded on the door. “We have a mandatory meeting at the gallery in fifteen minutes.”
“All right.” Isabella crawled out of bed and threw on some clothes. They never had mandatory meetings at the gallery.
What on earth had Elenore all fired up?
Ten minutes later, she walked into the kitchen. Elenore stood there, dressed in some flowy Asian getup. Delilah and Ava sat at the table. “Everyone come with me. We need to be at the gallery—now.”
Isabella’s mouth fell open. She grabbed a banana and followed Elenore and the girls to the garage. “You want me to ride with you?”
Elenore motioned to her Porsche. “Of course.” She said it like it was the most logical thing. Like she hadn’t spent the last five years making Isabella walk to the gallery while she drove her daughters everywhere.
Isabella climbed in the back and sat with her hands in her lap. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she kept her mouth shut and ignored it. No way was she going to answer Chase while sitting next to Elenore and the step-witches.
They arrived at the Vibrant Hue, and Isabella followed them in. Leilani was already there, dressed in a short skirt and denim jacket. Paco was even there crating up the artwork she’d taken down last night.
Elenore clapped her hands. “Paco, please come in here a minute.”
Paco came walking in, hitching up his pants. “Yes?”
“I have an announcement.” Elenore paused dramatically before continuing. “We are signing a new artist.”
Isabella couldn’t believe her ears. She’d just spent the entire night rearranging everything. Why couldn’t Elenore have waited to take down Elsa’s art until the new art came in to take its place? Isabella wanted to scream but pressed her lips together and clenched her hands. Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it.
Elenore continued. “This new artist has been working hard for years, trying to master her skills. I’ve been supervising her progress.”
Isabella’s throat grew tight. Was Elenore saying what she thought she was saying? Were they really going to sign her? Isabella’s heart beat rapidly in her chest.
“It has recently come to my attention that this budding artist has progressed to the point where her artwork is now ready to be displayed in her father’s art gallery.”
Leilani grinned and clapped her hands, and Paco joined in. Isabella’s eyes brimmed with tears. She couldn’t believe it. Elenore was finally going to recognize her hard work. She’d made it into the gallery. And she had called everyone in to make the announcement.
Elenore held up a hand and the room silenced. “I want to introduce my daughter’s art next Saturday with a special gala.”
Isabella had waited five years to hear her stepmother acknowledge her as a daughter. And now that it was happening, she barely knew what to say. Emotion filled her throat. They were going to throw a party, just for her.
“Delilah, I’m so proud of you,” Elenore said.
Isabella’s world tilted, and she blinked.
Delilah stepped forward, a smug smile on her face. “I’m so honored.”
Isabella’s palms grew sweaty and she could barely swallow. Elenore wasn’t talking about her. She wasn’t finally getting the recognition she deserved. It was Delilah. Her stomach dropped, and she tried to discreetly wipe her face of the tears that had now spilled down. Heat seared her cheeks. She should have known it wasn’t her.
Elenore took Delilah’s hand and pulled her to the front of the room. “The gallery will need to be cleaned from top to bottom for the party, and we will invite all our clients and serve hors d’œuvres and wine.”
The realization sank in, and Isabella blurted out, “But that’s the day of the fall formal.”
Elenore shot a death glare at Isabella. “And Delilah will make a special appearance here before the dance. The rest of you will need to be here all night to help with the gala event.”
“What?” Ava shrieked.
“Not you.” Elenore dismissed Ava with a wave. “Everyone else.” Her gaze landed on Isabella.
Great. Not only did she have to rearrange the art floor again, but she had to put up Delilah’s art, whatever that was. She’d never seen Delilah paint anything except her nails. And on top of that, she had to break her date with Chase. Life just kept getting better. Isabella straightened her back. She wasn’t going to let her stepmother know she’d gotten to her.
“Fine with me,” Isabella said.
A satisfied smile formed on Elenore’s face. “Then we’re done here.”
Elenore turned to leave, but then stopped. “Oh, Isabella.” She faced her. “I’ll be dropping off Delilah’s work in a few minutes. I want you here so you can start the displays. I want Delilah’s art to have top billing.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Elenore breezed out of the gallery, her daughters following close behind. Leilani huffed and put her hands on her hips. “What is wrong with that woman?”
Paco grunted. “She wouldn’t know good art if she was bitten by it.”
Isabella didn’t want to think about it. If she gave it any more thought, she’d dissolve into a puddle of tears, and she didn’t want to expend the energy on Elenore. “I’m just happy I’m graduating this year,” Isabella said with a sigh.
Leilani wrapped her arms around Isabella and gave her a hug. “Just ignore her and that terrible daughter of hers. Delilah’s art,” she scoffed. “I can’t wait to see what that entails.”
“Maybe it’s a collection of selfies. That’s the only thing I can think of.”
Leilani laughed. “I can picture that.”
Isabella’s phone vibrated again in her pocket, and she excused herself and went into the office. The fluorescent lights flickered on and then hummed. She pulled out her phone and plopped down on her chair.
How are you this morning?
Everything okay?
Let me know you’re all right.
Five???
She smiled. Chase was worried about her. Sweet guy. Her heart pounded. She punched in a response.
I’m fine. Just at work.
Can’t wait until next week.
The fall formal. Her chest grew heavy and she tried not to cry.
About that.
What?
Something came up. I’ve got to work next Saturday.
Noooooo!
I’m so sorry.
Chase didn’t text back right away, and she set her phone down. She tried to tell herself it was just a silly dance. It wasn’t important. But deep inside she knew it would be a special night. The only night she could be with Chase as Five, but yet as herself as well.
Her emotions surged, and she blinked back more tears. Chase meant more to her than just a date to a dance. He was kind and cared about her as a person. The way he’d gotten upset last night, she could tell he was about ready to pound her stepmother into the ground. She’d felt something she’d never felt for a guy before.
He was . . . She sighed and pushed that thought out of her head. He was out of reach. She couldn’t date him in the real world. Her only chance to spend a magical night in his arms dancing was next weekend.
And it wasn’t going to happen.
She picked up her banana and began to peel it. The sweet fruit made her stomach rumble. Another text came through as she ate.
I wish there was a way you could go.
Me, too.
Have a good day at work.
Thanks.
She put her phone back in her pocket. Yesterday she’d been terrified that Chase had figured out who she was when she slipped up and said she was nobody. He’d looked at her funny but then dismissed it. He acted normal the rest of the evening. He probably figured a lot of girls thought they weren’t anything special.
Elenore came in and frowned. “You’re on break already?”
Isabella forced a smile. “I thought I’d eat breakfast fast so I could be ready to put out Delilah’s art. Is it here?”
“Yes. It’s all in the back room. I want everything out before you come home tonight.”
Of course she did. “Yes, ma’am.”
Elenore still stood there and Isabella sat, uncomfortable, waiting for her to leave. Elenore studied Isabella. “You weren’t planning on going to the fall formal, were you?”
“No.”
“Because I’m not sure who you’d be going with. Delilah had a nice conversation with Chase in the mall yesterday, and he all but asked her to go with him. He mentioned she should wear silver. I’m guessing he wanted their outfits to match.” She shot Isabella a look.
“That’s great,” she said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“So, you see, having something to do here that night might be nice for you.”
Isabella bit back the words threating to come out and just smiled at Elenore. “Thank you.”
Elenore left, and Isabella blew out a breath. If she had to sit there one more minute and listen to that woman open her pie hole—
Leilani burst into the office, her hand over her mouth. She shut the door, and laughter bubbled from her. “You have to come see your stepsister’s art.” She held her hand over her stomach. “I’m standing there and Elenore is proudly showing me these pieces, and I’m biting my lip trying not to bust up.”
Isabella followed Leilani to the back room. Paco was standing there shaking his head. Canvases of varying sizes were on the floor, propped up against the walls. Smears of bright, primary-colored paint graced the canvases. She peered at them. One was obviously a hand smeared with paint and then slapped on the surface.
But the larger ones looked like she had rolled around in the paint and . . . Isabella pointed. “Is that what I think it is?”
Leilani nodded, pinching her lips together. “Body art.”
Isabella flipped through the art, sometimes making out an elbow or a foot. Other times, she didn’t want to know what body part Delilah had used to create the painting. She snorted. “I see.”
Leilani giggled. “This is what her years of training has given the world.”
Isabella struggled for words. “Stunning.”
Paco guffawed and waved his hand. “I’m out of here.”
“Aren’t you going to help us move the artwork around?” Leilani asked.
“Madam Dragon doesn’t want me to. She said to leave it to Isabella.” He looked at her apologetically. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” She was used to it. She knew she was being punished for leaving the football game with Chase, even though it was Delilah’s prank that made him follow her.
Leilani ran the front while Isabella pulled down art and made room for Delilah’s masterpieces. She didn’t care if the place looked like a mess today—there was no way she was going to wait until after the gallery closed to move things around again. That was Elenore’s sick way of controlling her, and everyone knew it.
She looked at Delilah’s “art” and shook her head. Elenore had brought in some weird things before, but never anything so stupid. She hoped it wouldn’t ruin the gallery’s reputation.
After lunch, the front door chimed and Chase came walking in. Leilani greeted him before Isabella had a chance to shove him in the back room.
“Is Isabella here?” he asked.
Leilani glanced at her, a half smile on her face. “She’s right over there.”
Isabella grabbed his arm and pulled him into the office. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.
His gaze traveled over her, and his dimple showed as he smiled. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I just wanted to say hi.”
She nervously pushed her glasses up her nose. “My stepmother could show up at any moment. She gave me more paintings to hang.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to put you in a bad position.”
“That’s okay.” She rubbed her hands together. “If she comes in, I could tell her you’re here to drop off notes for class or something.”
“So I can stay?”
He looked so hopeful, she felt bad making him leave. “All right. But if you see Elenore, you have to leave quickly.”
He held out his hand. “Deal.”
A current of electricity ran over her as she shook his hand.
Wow, did he feel that?
She could barely breathe when he was around her. She let go and stepped back.
“Come on. I’ll show you the new art.”
Chapter 18
Chase stood in the back room, looking at the artwork to be hung. He wasn’t sure what to say. They looked like something he’d see in a third-grade art show. And what was the deal with the hands and feet? He scratched his chin.
“This one looks like someone sat in wet paint and then—”
