Page 75 of Isabella and the Slipper

Elenore backed Isabella up to the wall, her face just inches from hers. “You stole your sister’s date to the dance?”

Delilah scrambled to her feet as best she could in her silver monstrosity of a dress. “Yes! She did. She went with Chase. But with a wig on. He doesn’t know who she really is.”

Elenore took a step back. “What?”

Delilah pointed a long, bony finger at Isabella. “He called her Five. He said he didn’t know her real name.”

“Really?” Elenore’s voice dripped with glee. “Well, isn’t that interesting?” She stared for a moment at the cell phone in her hand. “He’s been texting you on here?”

Isabella didn’t answer.

“Intriguing.” Elenore scrolled through the texts, and Isabella’s face heated. Elenore frowned, then opened her hand. The cell phone clattered to the hardwood floor. She looked at it, then stepped on it with the heel of her boot, cracking the screen.

“No!” Isabella shouted.

Elenore put more weight on her heel, and the screen shattered. Bits of cell phone guts flew out as she ground her heel. “There. I think that takes care of that.”

The look of pure delight on Delilah’s face made Isabella’s stomach turn. Elenore pointed to the destroyed cell phone. “Clean this up. Then get to bed. You have to start work early tomorrow. I need the gallery cleaned. It’s a mess.”

Elenore and Delilah stalked out of the room. Isabella stared at her broken phone. She could no longer contact Chase.

Chase woke Sunday morning and checked his phone. No messages from Five. He sent her a few more pleas to message him back, with no response. He waited all morning. A horrible feeling took over as his phone sat silent.

He spent the day brooding in his room, beating himself up for trying to lift her mask. He went over the dance in his mind a million times, thinking of how it could have ended differently. How he could have come out the hero of the night.

He told his mother he wasn’t feeling well and skipped family dinner at the table. He ate stale potato chips and stared up at his bedroom ceiling. Finally, around eight o’clock, he wandered into the kitchen looking for something more to eat. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, unable to find anything else.

His mother came in and started scrubbing the dinner dishes. She glanced over at him. “You okay? What happened at the dance last night?”

Chase grabbed a fistful of hair and stared down at the table. “I messed up. My date hates me now.”

His mother raised an eyebrow. “Did you apologize?”

“Yes. A lot. She’s not texting me back.”

His mother set the washcloth down and pulled out the chair beside him. “Sometimes apologies have to be made in person.”

Chase pushed his cereal around the bowl with his spoon, no longer hungry. If only that would work. Isabella would freak out if he showed up at the gallery and spilled his guts.

His mother patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t forget your values. Be honest with her. She’ll come around.”

Honest. That was where he messed up, wasn’t it? If he had been honest with himself, he would have told Isabella he was starting to like her. And when he found out who Five was, he should have told Isabella he had deeper feelings for her. He stared at his mother.

“Thanks. I think you helped.”

She grinned. “You’re welcome.”

He picked up his bowl and put it in the sink. “I’m going to go apologize in person,” he said as he walked to his room. If he was going to fix this situation, it would have to be done face-to-face. His mother was right. Honesty. No more pretending. He had to go to Isabella.

And he most likely knew where she’d be.

“Be back by eleven.” His mother gave him a look.

“Sure.” He threw on a jacket and left the house. The drive to the gallery didn’t take as long as he thought. Relief poured over him when he saw the lights in the back still on. He got out of his car and knocked on the glass door.

Isabella let him in, her eyes wide with surprise. “Chase? What are you doing here?”

Words failed him. He knew he needed to be honest. But how could he reveal his feelings and not send her running? He cleared his throat to give him time to think. Then he said the first thing that popped into his head.

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