Page 73 of How to Get Even

‘Me?’ Bella spluttered. ‘Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.’ She dropped the denial about them like confetti.

‘Mm hmm,’ Mr Tawney replied wryly.

‘No, seriously,’ Bella replied, half panicked.

‘Me thinks she protesteth too much,’ he stated with a wicked grin and left her standing in the middle of the gallery reeling at what he’d just said.

15

There are roads which must not be followed.

THE ART OF WAR, SUN TZU

They were still finding coloured felt-tipped pens in corners and beneath chairs long after the last child, parent or teacher had left. Chase told Ye-Joon to wait until later in the week to start putting the pieces back up on the walls in preparation for the opening. They were still working from photos of Sascha’s paintings to perfect the layout, but he wasn’t worried.

But with the children’s drawings all taken down, he was once again surrounded by stark white walls, staring at him like a blank canvas.

His heart rate picked up, just like it had earlier even with just a coloured pen.

What did you want to draw?

I wanted to draw feelings.

He released the breath he’d been holding, trying to rid himself of the discomfort the memories brought.

‘Night!’ Maurice called, an excited smile lighting his features as if they all didn’t know he was going out for dinner with Mr Tawney.

‘Good luck!’ Chase called out behind him as Maurice waved him off with a hand.

Ye-Joon was next, Ali skipping after him, peppering him with questions and looks of adoration that the poor kid didn’t know what to do with.

That left Bella.

Bella who’d looked almost relaxed today. Bella injeans. He smiled. Until he didn’t. Because those jeans had looked good. Really damn good.

‘You were good with the kids today.’

Her words came from behind him. Sneaking up on him just like she had.

‘So were you,’ he said truthfully, turning to find her standing beneath a spotlight, looking up at him with those grey eyes of hers.

‘It’s part of the job description,’ she said ruefully.

Chase frowned. ‘As comms director?’

‘Pampered socialite,’ she clarified.

‘You’re not that,’ he dismissed with a shake of his head. ‘I’m sorry I ever said it.’

She scrunched her nose and a shrugged delicately. ‘I’m a little bit of that,’ she admitted kindly.

‘You’ve been working very hard. Do you miss it?’

‘What, you actually believe that pampered socialites do nothing all day?’

‘Tell me,’ he asked, just to hear her speak a little more. Just to draw out any kind of conversation with a woman that was fascinating him far too much for his own good.

‘Oh, you know. We sit around all day drinking tea, eating cupcakes, planning good works in the community…’ she said loftily.

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