Page 78 of Isabelle and the Beast

“Ugh.” I sit back in my chair in disgust. “What’s wrong with this world?”

“I’m not condoning it,” Robby says quickly, straightening and putting up his hands. A little bit of tea sloshes on the floor. “I’m not one of those guys.”

“Don’t worry, we know,” Jen says, a small smirk on her face. Of every guy I’ve ever met, Robby is probably the furthest from a ladies’ man. He’s our lovable nerd.

“So, now what?” I ask.

Jen shrugs and looks sympathetic. “We wait, I guess.”

We sit and stare at the computer screen. I’m not sure what we’re expecting to materialize, but nothing happens. I should probably do an Internet search of Tristan Jackson’s name to see if there are any opinion articles written in response, but my phone buzzes on the table, startling us all.

“It’s a text from my dad,” I say, furrowing a brow. I spoke tohim once when I got down the mountain, letting him know I’d be ready to start shooting soon but didn’t say anything else about my plans. It was better to leave him in the dark. I unlock the screen and see the following words:

Dad

My house. Now.

Chapter

Thirty-Four

ISABELLE

Iwalk up the steps of my childhood home, preparing myself for whatever my dad has in store. My guess is that he’s upset with me for trying to meddle in PR affairs—surprise, surprise—which is why I didn’t tell him in the first place. But here we are.

The front door has a keypad, and I enter the code and walk right in. “Hey, Dad, I’m here,” I call out. I glance around, noting how nothing has changed since I was last here a few months ago. That’s to be expected. Our home was always more functional than cute or “homey,” lacking the femininity that my mom would have brought. I have to give my dad credit; our clothes were always clean, and we always had food on the table for dinner. Usually takeout. But he did his very best to raise us three girls alone.

“I’m in the kitchen,” he calls back.

I wander through the hall until I find him sitting at the kitchen table with a pot of coffee and two mugs. His hair is askew, and his clothes are rumpled. I see my tired dad and my manager all in one, both sides of him battling for their roles in my life. “Sit,” he commands.

I do as instructed. “I’m guessing you saw the article,” I say.

He nods, looking down at his cup. “Why did you do it?”

I inhale, wondering if I should take the responsibility or go with ignorance.

But he’s my dad. So I tell him the truth, not denying my role in it. “Because Adam doesn’t deserve what Tristan is doing to him.”

When his eyes meet mine, they’re not angry. They have a tenderness and softness I haven’t seen in years. “You love him.”

A little gasp emerges from me. I cover it with a cough and pour some coffee into my mug. “Uh, I don’t think I’d say that.”

Dad chuckles. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell your dad. But you do.” He sips his coffee and sets it on the table. “I can’t say I didn’t see this coming.”

I’m careful not to admit to anything. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve known Adam for a very long time. He’s…well,youknow. You just spent weeks alone with him. But there’s been something missing, a lightness. Someone to understand him and his struggles. And I’ve wondered in the past if that person was you.”

“I’m surprised you even considered that.”

Dad nods. “I know I don’t come across as the most…sentimental type of guy. After your mom died, I realized how much easier it is to be alone. To focus on my career, to raise you girls and send you off in the right directions. But…” He trails off, his gaze down on his coffee. “Man, do I miss your mom.”

My eyes widen at this sudden expression, but I let him continue.

“Love is hard, Isabelle. It’s sacrifice and compromise. You’re two people raised in completely different ways, coming together to make a family. But when you find that person who wants to work hard with you, it doesn’t feel like work. It feels like a partnership. It feels like you get to spend every day withyour best friend, and the sacrifices don’t feel like sacrifices because youwantto make them happy.”

“And that’s what you had with Mom?”

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