Page 43 of Heart on Ice

“No. It’s true. Call her.”

Violetta pulls out her phone and calls Issy. “Why the hell is Pierre St. Pierre in your house with a dog?” I can’t hear what Issy says, but her sister’s eyes widen. “I’m here because I needed to borrow a bag, but that is beside the point,” she argues. “He says you’re friends. I thought we hated him.” Violetta nods. “Fine, I’ll ask him, but this conversation isn’t done. I’m telling Eve,” she says before hanging up. Violetta folds her arms and glares at me. “Issy said you would explain it all to me.” She impatiently thumps her feet for me to continue.

“Fine. Would you like a coffee?” I ask her.

13

ISABELLE

Violetta: 911. Family meeting. Issy’s office. 1pm.

With my hangover this morning, this is the last thing I want to be dealing with, but I probably should have told my sisters that Pierre was staying with me. Honestly, it slipped my mind. I also didn’t think they would pop into my house unannounced. Now I know where my stuff goes. They have been stealing it while I’m at work. We are going to have a conversation about boundaries and personal belongings.

Moments later, Evelina walks into my office. “What the hell is going on? Why is Vi calling an emergency meeting?”

I shrug. “You don’t go into my home and steal my clothes, do you?”

My sister stills. “No offence, but we don’t have the same style. Why?”

Offence taken. “I’m stylish,” I argue.

“In your way, yes,” my sister adds.

“What does that mean?” I question her.

“Means that we have different tastes.”

“No. You think my style is bad,” I tell her.

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s what it sounds like,” I argue.

Evelina rolls her eyes. “You dress conservatively compared to me. There’s a lot of black.”

“This is New York, everyone wears black.” Sorry, not all of us can be Little Miss Sunshine.

“See you’re upset now.” Evelina huffs.

“Because you don’t like the way I dress.”

“You know that’s not what I said. How has this turned into an argument, and what does this have to do with Vi’s message?” my sister asks, getting angry.

“Nothing, but I just found out that Violetta has been letting herself into my home and taking my clothes,” I tell her.

“Then why are you yelling at me?”

“I wanted to know if you had been doing it, too. I thought I was going crazy when I couldn’t find things in my closet and now, I know it’s you guys.”

“It’s Vi not me,” Evelina argues.

Before I get a chance to continue this argument, the thief herself walks in. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us Pierre was living with you.”

Evelina stares between the two of us.

“I forgot,” I tell her.

“Forgot. That man is not something you forget. And does he ever wear a shirt?” Violetta asks.

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