Page 51 of Isabella and the Slipper

“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.

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