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The Glass Slipper Project

Page 7

by Girard, Dara


  “Spying on the children?” he said amused. “Don’t worry, we’re behaving ourselves. We won’t play doctor until later.”

  Isabella entered the room. “Mariella will be down soon.”

  “Alex was telling me about all the plans he has for the house,” Gabby said. “His knowledge of it is amazing. It was built in the 1870s. He can identify the authentic framework and tell what changes our parents made to it. He has wonderful ideas.”

  “I’m sure he does,” she said in a dry tone.

  “I’m ready!” Mariella announced from the top of the stairs.

  “You’d better go see her coming down,” Isabella said.

  Alex furrowed his brows. “Why?”

  “She won’t come down otherwise,” Gabby said.

  Isabella sent her a look. “No, it’s just better that you don’t keep her waiting.”

  He nodded, then turned to Gabby, his tone cordial. “It was nice talking to you. We should do it again.”

  She slowly lowered then raised her long lashes. “Soon I hope.”

  His tone deepened. “Yes, it will be very soon.”

  “Good.”

  They stared at each other.

  “I said I’m ready!” Mariella called again.

  Isabella bit her lip to keep from laughing when she saw a flash of annoyance cross his face. “Enjoy yourself, Lex,” she teased as he passed.

  He stopped in front of her, towering like a maple tree but he didn’t offer her shade or comfort, his powerful physique and dark brown gaze made her insides do somersaults. “Don’t worry. I plan to,” he said then left.

  Gabby rushed up to Isabella and grabbed her arm. “I think I know the way to his heart.”

  “Oh?” she said without much interest.

  “Aren’t you curious?”

  “How you gain his attention is your business, not mine.”

  Gabby ignored her. “It’s this house. He loves it. You should see the way his eyes come alive when he talks about it and his voice becomes softer. He really is a very handsome man.”

  “He could murder us in our beds and the first thing anyone would say is ‘Yes, he chopped them up and fed them to the pigeons, but he’s such a handsome man.’”

  “Don’t be disgusting. I only mentioned his looks because they seem to soften when he talks about the house and his family. Those are his two weak spots.”

  “I see.”

  Gabby shook her arm. “Aren’t you thrilled? I think I’ve figured out the way to make Mariella’s plan work.”

  “I only hope you know what you’re doing.”

  She kissed Isabella’s cheek. “Don’t worry. I do. He’s nicer than you think, Izzy. I know he hurt your feelings, but I doubt he meant it.” She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “Soon Alex Carlton will be mine.”

  Five hours later, Isabella sat in the living room trying to pretend that she was not waiting for Mariella’s return. When she heard a car drive up to the house she raced up the stairs not wanting to overhear any mushy goodbyes that might occur. She heard the front door open then close. By the time she went downstairs both Daniella and Gabby were peppering Mariella with questions in the sitting room.

  “It was wonderful,” Mariella said taking a seat as though she were a queen granting her public an audience. “He’s a complete gentleman.”

  Gabby smirked. “Which means he didn’t try to kiss you.”

  Mariella ignored her. “He drove me around an extra two hours because he enjoyed my company so much.”

  Isabella glanced at the clock. “I had wondered.”

  “It was wonderful. We drove completely out of town and went on little dirt roads I didn’t even know were there. He told me about his travels and all that he plans to do with the house. Now I’d like to rest.” She slowly rose to her feet then drifted up the stairs.

  Gabby turned to Isabella. “He spent an extra two hours with Mariella?”

  “Amazing,” Daniella said.

  Isabella agreed. “I know.”

  Gabby shrugged. “We’ll see how far he takes me.”

  Tony tossed his magazine aside when Alex returned to the apartment. “So how did it go?”

  Alex fell on the couch and rested his head back. “How did what go?”

  “Your date.”

  He sat up. “Oh is that what it’s called? I thought masochistic pleasures might be more appropriate.”

  Tony winced. “But you were with her a long time.”

  “I know,” he said slowly. “A minor error in judgment.”

  “Start with the good part.”

  He sighed and stared at the blank TV.

  “Alex?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I heard you.”

  “You mean there wasn’t a good part?”

  “She is very beautiful.”

  “Yes, we all know that.”

  He looked thoughtful. “She would make a great wife.”

  “Yes.”

  “If I could figure out a way to zip her mouth shut and keep her from moving, she’d be perfect.”

  Tony shook his head. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “Do you want to know the first thing she asked me?” He didn’t give him a chance to reply. “Where would our second home be? Would I mind if she had a career as a model. And that if I want kids I’d better start now because her skin is still supple.” He sighed. “At least I know what she’s like and what I’d be in for. I have a date with Gabby next. We’ll see how that goes.”

  Tony nodded, but didn’t reply.

  That Friday, Alex took Gabby out. He also took her out Saturday and Sunday. When he asked her out again the following Thursday, it became evident that he favored her. Soon they were going out every week. January turned into February. A dozen red roses arrived for Valentine’s Day. Mariella was surprisingly philosophical about his choice. “I don’t care who he marries as long as it’s one of us,” she said. “It’s obvious Gabby is his favorite. I don’t mind. He’s too young for me anyway.”

  “By only six years,” Isabella said thinking of how much older she was than him.

  “That’s plenty. A man isn’t ripe until he’s past his thirties.”

  “He’s pretty mature.”

  “For his age, I guess. He’s perfect for Gabby. And they’ve gone out every week for about three weeks now. Izzy, I think my plan has worked. I think we will have a summer wedding.”

  As more weeks passed it became clear Mariella’s prediction might be correct. Alex preferred Gabby’s company to any other woman in town. February disappeared under March’s harsh assault, but no one paid attention to the weather. Everyone was excited by Gabby’s obvious conquest. One evening while Isabella was coming down the stairs, she saw Sophia and Daniella heading out, arm in arm. They were already acting like sisters.

  “Where are you two going?” she asked them.

  “Shopping,” Daniella said.

  Sophia looked Isabella up and down. “Do you want to come?”

  Isabella met the kind, but critical look with a smile. “No, thanks.”

  “I’m paying.”

  “That’s sweet, but I have things to do. Remember this week we have to move out into the cottage so Alex can start renovations. I’m glad he was able to clean it up for us.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about moving. Alex will hire someone. And you don’t have to worry about being polite about money. We’re going to be sisters soon.”

  “You think?”

  Both women nodded.

  Isabella sent them a curious look. “Do you know something that I don’t?”

  The two young women shared a look then Sophia said, “All I know is that Alex really likes Gabby. He told me so.” She opened the door and stepped outside. Daniella turned to Isabella with both fingers crossed and mouthed “It’s working” before following Sophia.

  Isabella agreed. With her dear sister willingly in his clutches, she felt determined to find out more about him.

  Although
Isabella felt she should be glad Gabby and Alex got on so well, rumors about Alex’s generosity made her cautious. Aside from the fundraiser for the nursing home, he continued to spend his money freely about town. Soon word of how he’d donated funds to the local schools and library reached her. These were two places one had rarely seen him when he was younger. It would have been more appropriate if he’d given funds to the cinema or pool hall. His philanthropy also included the town hall, sheriff’s department and community center.

  Isabella wondered if he’d suddenly been struck by conscience or if he was trying to buy the town’s favor. And if so, why? When she tried asking others, people were too in awe of him to say anything negative, but Isabella finally found someone as suspicious of his actions as she was: Mrs. Grace at the library.

  “He just handed us a check,” she said, her tiny eyes bright with suspicion and her booming voice filling the quiet room. Aside from her degree in library science, she was completely unsuited for her job as a librarian, with a loud voice and coarse manners. She made Isabella instantly regret her decision to talk to her. Isabella lowered her voice hoping Mrs. Grace would take the hint and do the same.

  “That was it?”

  “I was curious,” she continued in a booming voice, making Isabella wince. “But I wasn’t going to say no.”

  “He didn’t say why?”

  She shook her head. “He just talked about the importance of the library and how it had been a refuge for him in his youth.”

  A man in a tweed jacket turned around from his table. “Shh!”

  Isabella flashed a sheepish grin, but Mrs. Grace took no notice. “I’m not going to disagree with anyone handing me that much money. If he said the library was a refuge to him, then it was.”

  Isabella raised her brows. “He said that with a straight face?”

  “He’s very good at appearing sincere.”

  “So you doubt his intentions?”

  She shrugged. “What I think of him is not important.”

  “Shh!” the man repeated.

  Mrs. Grace turned her beady eyes to him. “Would you mind being quiet? This is a library you know.”

  The man looked at her, stunned, then slunk away and Isabella decided to do the same.

  At Mrs. Lyons’s house, Isabella continued to ponder the librarian’s words. Alex wasn’t doing anything wrong. Generosity wasn’t a crime. Perhaps there wasn’t anything shady about his actions. Nicodemus forced her out of her thoughts by nudging her with his head and meowing when she missed a note. She decided to concentrate on her playing.

  “It seems Alex Carlton is generous with his money,” Mrs. Lyons said as though she’d been reading her mind.

  Isabella’s fingers faltered on the keys, but she quickly righted them. “Yes. He’s given money to the town hall, sheriff’s department and library.”

  “His father used to love the library.”

  That was interesting, Isabella thought. His father had also worked at the sheriff’s office. Was there a connection?

  “When did Mr. Carlton leave?” she asked.

  “I believe Sophia was just a baby or toddler. I remember it was in the spring because there had been a rash of burglaries. Most people suspected him, but the burglaries continued after he left. Nobody knows why he did. But men are undependable creatures so it’s to be expected.”

  Isabella didn’t agree, but decided not to argue. “Then Mrs. Carlton left years later with no explanation either.”

  “She thought she’d get better opportunities elsewhere. However —”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s been rumored that it had something to do with the Tremains.”

  “How could there possibly be a connection?”

  “Well, the Tremain marriage broke up soon after Velma left.”

  Isabella widened her eyes. “You don’t think that they ran off together, do you?”

  “Could be.”

  “But if they had run off together, where is he now?”

  “Probably dead. Men have a habit of up and dying on you, too.”

  “But —”

  “Velma was an attractive woman back then. Still is, if you ignore the fact that she’s let her figure go. She didn’t have a good education and I doubt her son has one, but now they have a lot of money. What does that mean?”

  “The Realtor said that the Carltons are very rich.”

  “But he didn’t tell you how they got that way. The Carltons have always been poor. David wasn’t worth much and neither were his father or grandfather. They were simple men. Alex may be a little smarter, but tell me how a man with little education and no connections could get to be so rich without anyone knowing what business he’s in. Of course there are ways to find out, but I don’t like people not being forthcoming about how they butter their bread. And I wonder why, when they can live anywhere in the world, would they choose here?”

  Yes, why? How had Alex made his money? Why was he so generous to a town he’d left vowing “to show them”? What was he up to?

  When Isabella addressed her questions to Gabby as she cleared the dinner table that evening, she shooed them away. “Izzy, you have nothing to worry about. Alex really cares about this town and he wants to help in any way he can. He truly is a kind and generous man. I wish you could see that.”

  “So you trust him?”

  “He’s the type of man I would trust with my life.”

  Isabella desperately wanted to believe her sister. Gabby was usually a good judge of character. Later that evening, Isabella drove to Martha’s, her favorite restaurant, and selected a booth. She liked the worn vinyl cushions and hot coffee. She’d always come here to be alone and think among the distant hum of voices and the comforting scent of apple-peach pie. Right now she had a lot to think about. She scribbled down a list of reasons why she didn’t trust Alex. She slowly crossed them off when she discovered a reason why she should. Question: How did he make his money? Why did he return? Answer: Possible investments. He loved the house? She put a question mark next to it then paused when she felt someone slide into the seat in front of her. She glanced up and froze.

  Chapter 8

  Alex stared at her with hard cold eyes that formed slivers of ice in her blood. “You’ve been asking questions about me,” he said.

  She met his gaze, though her first instinct was to look away. She knew he would use any show of weakness against her. She should have been more discreet about her inquires. He could make a dangerous adversary. She was about to divert her gaze when she noticed the faint scar on his jaw. She’d been there when he’d fallen off his bike and had to get stitches. She’d wiped the tears he’d been unable to hold back. She stopped a smile and suddenly felt relieved. He may not be that little boy anymore, but she would never fear him. “Stop that, Lex.”

  He suddenly looked wary, giving her more courage. At that moment she knew that there was no reason to be frightened. “Stop what?” he asked.

  “Don’t look at me as though I’m an opponent you want to annihilate. I was there when you were sick all over our kitchen floor when you caught the flu.”

  He glanced away embarrassed, then resigned. His features didn’t soften, but somehow he seemed less menacing. He sighed, tapping his finger against the table. When he looked at her again the hard look was gone replaced by a dark unreadable glint. “You’ve been asking questions about me,” he repeated.

  She didn’t need to ask how he knew. “Yes.”

  He tapped faster. “Why?”

  “I’m curious about the man who’s showing so much interest in my sister.”

  He stopped tapping. “Your sister wants me to be interested in her and I’m happy to oblige.”

  “And you’ve been extremely generous to everyone.”

  This statement produced a cynical twist of his lips that could have been mistaken for a smile though it wasn’t meant to be. “Feeling left out?”

  “I want to know what you’re up to.”

  “I think you alr
eady know what I’m up to.”

  “You want people to trust you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Why not?” He glanced down at the menu then called the waitress over and ordered. After handing the waitress his menu, he met Isabella’s assessing gaze. This time he smiled with genuine amusement that made her face feel hot. She now understood why Gabby found his company so enjoyable, and if she wasn’t careful she would, too. There was something a little too appealing about him. “It’s all a game, Izzy.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Are you sure you don’t want to play?”

  “Very sure,” she said in a crisp tone, annoyed by her traitorous emotions.

  “You’re missing a lot of fun.”

  “I doubt it.”

  He leaned back. “Well, you wouldn’t know since you’re on the sidelines. You’re really good at that.”

  “It gives me a great view of the whole situation.”

  “True. Sitting on the sidelines has some benefits. You get to see the whole game and you don’t lose anything.” He wagged a finger. “But there’s one drawback. You don’t win anything either.”

  “The most dangerous games are the ones of the heart.”

  “I don’t play with hearts.”

  “But you play with people.”

  “No,” he said with deliberate patience. “I don’t play with them either. I only play the games people want me to play.”

  “What I’ve noticed is that people tend not to play the same games.”

  The waitress came back with Alex’s order — a plate full of spinach stuffed mushrooms sprinkled with cheese and a large lemonade. Isabella glanced around wondering if it was a good time to leave.

  “Yes,” Alex said. “They’re all looking at us, but don’t worry about it.”

  She turned to him. “I’m not worried.”

 

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