Page 48 of Isabela

ISABELA

Taking a breath, I smell chocolate, coffee, and pastries. Blinking as I wake up, I look around, realizing I’m not in the truck anymore. God, I must have been really tired. I’m laying on a leather couch, a pretty crocheted afghan draped over me.

Sitting slowly, I look around, smiling when I see a grandfather clock against the wall. I love everything vintage, and this house is beautifully decorated.

“We decided to let you nap for a bit,” a man’s gravelly voice says. Looking over at him, I see a man with watery, sky-blue eyes and salt and pepper brown hair. He has a cane, but doesn’t seem to be using it, it’s held almost as an addition to his outfit.

“I’m Theodore Travers, and this is my home. Now, my chef is chomping at the bit to feed you. Shall we?”

Standing, I nod, walking over to him. “Hello,” I say with a small smile. He knows who I am, so I don’t bother to introduce myself. “I’ve been admiring your home. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Theodore says with a smile.

“Do you prefer for me to call you Mr. Travers?” I ask as we begin walking through the house together. There’s a chandelier hanging in the hallway, and I can’t help but stare up in wonder at it. It’s made of crystal tiers and glass. Names have power, so I’m learning to ask for them.

“Oh no,” he chuckles. “I’m Mr. Travers to most people, but my sons would swat me for being that pompous. Theodore is perfectly fine. It’s a beautiful day, I thought we could eat outside?”

“I would love that,” I say with a grin. “I like studying outside, but my uncle says too much sun is bad for me.”

“Apparently he thinks food is bad for you too,” Theodore says drolly, making me smirk. It’s not funny, but sometimes you have to see the humor in things, even if it’s morbid or ironic.

“I hear my uncle isn’t going to be a problem anymore, which I hope is true,” I tell him.

Gael is already outside and opens the door for us to walk through. The patio is incredible, opening up to blossoming trees with purple and yellow flowers. A vine covered archway and planted path leads away from the patio, taking my breath away.

“Holy, wow.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Gael asks with a grin. “Sometimes I’ll make up an excuse or two for Gertrude to feed me and sit with Theodore.”

The man in question snorts as he walks to the table underneath a canvas awning. I don’t think I would ever come back inside if I lived here. Following Theodore with Gael, I relax as I feel the warmth of his hand against my spine.

“It isn’t a hardship to have your company, Gael,” Theodore says with a smirk as he takes a seat. “Now, Isabela, come sit and eat, or I’ll never hear the end of it from my chef.”

Smiling, I take a seat on his left and Gael sits next to me. There are chocolate croissants, coffee, several different styles of eggs, and muffins.

“This looks amazing,” I admit.

“What looks good, Isa?” Gael asks, reaching for a serving spoon. Theodore doesn’t seem to think anything out of the ordinary as he serves me, so I let him do it.

“The omelet looks amazing, but I’m not sure what’s in it. I definitely need a croissant and coffee, please,” I tell him excitedly. “Seriously, eating something other than boiled unseasoned chicken sounds amazing right now.”

“That sounds terrible,” Theodore says in disgust. “How long has that been going on? Oh, there are two kinds of omelets. The one on the left is goat cheese, spinach and mushroom, and on the right is bacon, summer squash, and sweet peppers.”

“He’s been monitoring my diet since late October.” I sigh. “The goat cheese sounds delicious, please.”

Gael serves me first, and then Theodore and he serve themselves without batting an eye. My eyes close as I take a bite, the flavors exploding along my taste buds.

“God, I’ve missed real food,” I moan.

“Welcome back to civilization,” Theodore chuckles. “No more diets, no more bullshit. Gael and I have been working together to figure out what your uncle is up to, but maybe you can help us fill in the blanks.”

For the next hour, I tell them about how I figured out my uncle has been skimming money. I’ve been doing the books since my freshman year of college, but the first time he beat me was because I called him out on the discrepancies. After that, I learned quickly to keep my mouth shut.

I also explain what has happened over the past seven months, and things have progressively gotten worse.

“Your uncle appears to be money laundering for some very powerful and dangerous men, and he’s using your parents’ company to do it,” Theodore confirms. “The board isn’t happy with the changes, and while the stocks haven’t dropped for Cohen Security and Communications, there are rumblings that people may quit.”

“Who?” I ask. My parents brought me to work functions often, so I’m used to being in the public eye. Everyone was fairly nice, so I was a known face before I went to school after my parents died.

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