Fairytale Come Alive (15 page)

She hadn’t seen any of his other work but if this was anything to go by, Prentice was very talented.

Not for the first time she thought her father was an idiot. Even Carver Austin, who could find fault in anything, wouldn’t have been able to find fault with this house.

She pulled her eyes from the house and turned back to Mikey while saying, “Thanks for the ride.”

But she said it to no one. Mikey was out of the door and closing it.

She didn’t have a good feeling about this.

Isabella got out her side and slammed the door, calling, “Mikey, what’re you doing?”

“Bumming a meal off Mr. Broody-Hot,” Mikey scarily answered. “I’m famished.”

Isabella, mind scrambled near to panic at the very idea of Mikey sharing a meal with Prentice and his family without a variety of other distractions available to Prentice, Sally, Jason
and
Mikey, opened the backdoor and grabbed one of the bags of groceries she’d bought (it was early enough for her to intervene in takeaway and she fully intended to do it).

“You’d be bumming a meal off
me,
” she told Mikey. “I bought the food and I’m saying no, you can’t stay.”

Mikey reached in, grabbed the other bag then threw the door to. “You can’t say no, it isn’t your house.”

“You can’t stay,” Isabella retorted, standing out in the crisp, chill air and perfectly willing to stand out there until Christmas if it took that long to talk him out of staying for dinner.

“Why on earth not?” Mikey enquired.

Mikey loved her unreservedly. Isabella had no problems being honest with Mikey.

“Because you can be unpredictable,” she answered.

Mikey mixed with Prentice mixed with
Sally
, for God’s sake. That was a recipe for
disaster
.

He grinned at her. “Life’s a lot more fun that way.”

Life was never fun at all in Isabella’s estimation.

He started marching to the door, Isabella’s panic escalated, she opened her mouth to protest but the door opened and Sally shot out of it, screeching, “
You’re home!
”

Oh dear.

Sally entered the mix.

Sally came to a skidding halt and stared at Isabella.

“I
love
your outfit!” she shrieked.

“And I
love
this child,” Mikey muttered.

Isabella gave him an “I told you so” look. Mikey smiled.

Sally started her dash again, collided with Isabella and threw her arms around Isabella’s thighs.

Isabella steadied her body and allowed herself to let the sweet feeling of Sally’s hug wash over her.

“She can hardly make you dinner if you hold her captive on the front walk, darling,” Mikey drawled but the smile was still on his face and his eyes were on Sally.

He said this just as Prentice hit the door.

Wonderful.

Prentice was now in the mix.

Sally threw her head back and yelled, “You’re making dinner?
Again!
Hurrah!”

“Only if you haven’t had something,” Isabella answered, ignoring Prentice.

Sally disengaged but caught Isabella’s hand, explaining, “Daddy was just going to order takeaway.” She saw her father and shouted, “Daddy! Mrs. Evangahlala’s home in time to make dinner!”

“I heard,” Prentice replied dryly. “The village heard and we live five miles away.”

They’d come abreast of Mikey and Sally leaned toward him and whispered loudly, “Daddy thinks I can be loud sometimes.”

“Only way to be heard,” Mikey replied blandly.

Sally grinned.

“Mikey,” Isabella said in a warning tone.

“What?” Mikey asked, poorly feigning an innocent look.

Isabella gave him a glare then controlled her expression and transferred her gaze to Prentice who was blocking the door.

She stopped in front of him. “Mikey would like to stay for dinner, if that’s all right with you.”

“No,” Mikey said, coming up behind her. “I
am
staying for dinner,” he announced, eyes on Prentice. “I’ve made myself Bella’s designated bodyguard.”

Prentice’s mouth got hard and Isabella held her breath.

“Why does Mrs. Evangahlala need a bodyguard? Is she famous?” Sally asked in a breathy voice and Mikey looked down at her.

“Mrs. Evangahlala is quite famous, cutie pie, but she doesn’t normally need one. It’s just here, where –”

“Well!” Isabella cried (also loudly), interrupting Mikey. “I better get a move on with dinner or it’ll be the children’s bedtime.”

She lifted her brows at Prentice who still looked angry but he stepped forward and took her bag from her. She started to tighten her hold on it but realized it would be silly to wrestle over a grocery bag so she let go.

He moved to the side, motioning with a wide sweep of his arm that she should precede him and she quickly did so, dragging the lagging Sally, who still had hold of her hand, with her.

She and Sally hit the great room, Mikey and Prentice following and she saw Jason was on the couch, his feet flung over the back, a book in his hands.

His eyes came to her.

“Hey, Mrs. Evangelista.”

“Hello, Jason.”

“What
is
this Mrs. Evangelista business?” Mikey asked, going directly to the kitchen counter and dumping his bag. “She’s feeding you. You should call her Bella.”

“Mikey,” Isabella said, again in a warning tone and Sally danced to the kitchen, climbing up on a stool and rooting through the bag.

“What? Seriously, you’ve twice now bought them a boatload of food,” Mikey returned.

Prentice was also depositing his bag in the kitchen and his head came around, his eyes pinning Isabella.

Well, one could say that Mikey didn’t waste any time with creating havoc.

Then again, he never did.

“I thought Annie bought the food,” Prentice said in a voice that was deeper, thus obviously not so happy.

Isabella opened her mouth to speak but Mikey, unfortunately, beat her to it.

“You didn’t buy
that
did you?”

Prentice’s eyes narrowed and Isabella wondered if Prentice would find it untoward if, in front of his children, she took off her pump and threw it at Mikey.

She figured he would.

Therefore, Isabella decided to ignore any of this was happening and focus on dinner.

And nothing but dinner.

Except maybe Sally.

And, of course, Jason.

“I’m going to get changed before I cook,” Isabella announced and turned to her friend. “Mikey, come with me to see the pretty guest suite that –”

“No, darling, I’m going to stay here. Unpack groceries. Examine Sally’s fabulous manicure. Tour this spectacular house.” He grinned at Isabella. “Take your time.”

Well, maybe she couldn’t ignore everything and focus on dinner because she sure as heck couldn’t leave Mikey
alone
with Prentice and his family.

“Really, Mikey, you need to see the guest suite. It’s lovely,” she pressed.

“Really, darling, I
need
a cocktail.” He turned to Prentice. “What do you have to drink around here?”

“Whisky,” Prentice replied shortly, having come to the edge of the counter that led to the great room and leaned a hip against it, arms crossed, face closed, now so,
very
(and obviously) not so happy.

Mikey stared at him and waited for his list of other alcoholic beverages on the premises that were available to be consumed to continue.

Prentice didn’t say another word.

“Whisky it is then,” Mikey muttered.

Prentice walked to the study.

Isabella made a split second decision and followed.

At the double doors, she grabbed one doorknob then reached for the other, leveled her eyes on Mikey and mouthed, “Stay and be good.”

She closed the doors and turned to Prentice.

His side was to her but his neck was twisted so he could face her. He still didn’t look happy.

She couldn’t stop herself from licking her lips. Prentice’s eyes dropped to her mouth.

She caught her breath, crossed her arms on her middle and hugged her elbows.

Then she launched in, “I’m sorry about Mikey. He can be a bit overwhelming.”

Without a word, Prentice turned toward a cabinet, opened it and pulled out two glasses and a very good bottle of whisky that was also mostly empty.

“He can be overprotective,” she went on as Prentice poured the whisky but he still didn’t speak.

Isabella continued, “And he doesn’t fancy Robert or Richard and I think he’s kind of bored at Fergus’s house, considering Annie spends most of her time with Dougal… when she’s not wedding planning, that is.”

Prentice put away the whisky but he did so silently.

Once he was done, he turned to face her.

“It’ll be okay eventually, he’ll calm down. You just can’t,” she hesitated. “
listen
to anything he says.” She paused again. “Or take him seriously.” She drew in breath before she finished, “At all.”

Prentice remained silent and simply regarded her.

“I’ll buy you more whisky,” she told him.

Prentice finally spoke. “I think you’ve bought enough, don’t you?”

Oh dear.

He wasn’t happy about the groceries.

But he wasn’t done.

His eyes swept her from top-to-toe and then they settled on her face, “Go get changed, Isabella. You’re in a family home in the wilds of Scotland, not about to step out with the glitterati.”

There it was again. The non-physical slap. She barely held back a flinch but she managed it.

“Of course,” she muttered, starting to turn to the door.

“It makes me wonder,” Prentice started conversationally, she turned back and saw his gaze was speculative.

“What makes you wonder?” she asked when he didn’t continue.

“This,” he replied nonsensically.

“What?”

“This desperate warning not to pay attention to your best friend. It makes me wonder what secrets you’re keeping.”

“I’m not keeping any secrets,” she replied softly and it wasn’t exactly a lie.

It was just that he lost the privilege to know her secrets twenty years ago when he walked out of Fergus’s living room and didn’t look back.

Prentice went on, “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll pay close attention to
everything
he says.”

As a matter of fact, she
did
mind.

Mikey could be considered certifiably insane on entire continents. No one knew what was going to come out of his mouth. That was why he was still single.

Furthermore, why would Prentice
care?

“If you’ll open the doors, Isabella, I’d like to serve my guest his drink.”

With nothing else for it, she opened the doors and walked out beside Prentice.

“Thank
God!
My cocktail,” Mikey exclaimed.

Isabella gave him a look that would turn marble into sand but bounced off Mikey. She smiled weakly at Sally and Jason. She ignored Prentice completely. Then she turned on her spike-heeled pump and used everything she had to force herself to walk calmly down the hall and to the guest suite.

Once there, she dashed around like a crazed demon, yanking off her (very pretty, she thought, still, it
was
expensive but then practically everything she owned was expensive, she was rich, for God’s sake!) sapphire blue dress. She tugged off her matching sapphire blue suede pumps and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sage green, tunic style sweater. It had a boat neck and bell sleeves and was hand-knit from the finest wool by what could only be considered a craftsman. It was one of a kind and cost a mint.

It would have to do.

She snatched the bobby pins out of the complicated chignon she’d fashioned at her nape (she’d always been good with hair, it was one of her few true talents, even her father begrudgingly admitted that) and shook out her hair. Once she’d done that, she piled it up on her head in a messy knot and fastened it loosely with a ponytail holder.

She allowed herself a split second to look in the mirror to see if she was fit for spending the evening in “a family home in the wilds of Scotland”.

She decided she wasn’t but she took off out the door anyway.

When she hit the kitchen, Sally and Mikey were in it, Jason was seated at the counter and a quick glance showed that Prentice was on the phone in his study.

Maybe her luck had changed.

“We’ve decided to call you Miss Bella!” Sally shrieked from her place on the stool at the counter, tea towels already wrapped around her.

“Have you, now?” Isabella muttered, entering the kitchen to see the groceries unpacked, the peas were at the boil and the water for the noodles was already at a flame on the stove.