The Glass Slipper Project (8 page)

“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.

A
lex 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 already 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.”

“Then why do you look like you’re ready to run?”

“Leave. Not run.”

He couldn’t help a grin. “You looked ready to run to me.”

“I just thought you might want to eat alone.”

“If I wanted to eat alone, I would have sat at a table by myself.”

“You’re only sitting here because you want me to stop asking questions about you.”

“That, and I’d also like the company.”

With me?
Isabella wanted to laugh, as she sneaked another glance at the other young women in the restaurant. She returned her gaze to his lowered head as he cut a mushroom in half, waiting for the rest of the joke.

He suddenly looked up and their eyes met. Yes, his eyes could be dangerous. There was just too much intelligence there and something else that made her skin tingle. A glimmer of humor entered his gaze. “Come on, Izzy, you know me better than that. I don’t lie, remember?”

She nodded, not wanting to speak. The warmth of his gaze seemed to fan the heat he’d lit before with his smile. She shifted, awkward.

He pushed the appetizer towards her. “Go ahead and help yourself. You look hungry.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He pushed the plate closer.

She took a mushroom. “Thanks.” She bit into it and was surprised by how good it tasted. She’d come to Martha’s for years and had never tried it. “Mmm, these are good.”

“I know.”

She took another one.

“Why did you come back?”

“To settle down and get married.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s all for now.”

He was cagey, but Isabella was determined to pin him down. “You’ve shown a lot of interest in Gabby.”

“I like her. I always have.”

She took another mushroom. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”

He shook his head. “Nobody’s going to get hurt.”

“That might be your intention, but being practical is difficult when it comes to people and emotions.”

“Fortunately, I don’t let them get in my way.”

“People or emotions?”

“Both.”

“Sounds like a cold way to live.”

He shrugged. “Only to some.” He glanced down and stared amazed at the empty plate. He looked up at Isabella as she finished her last mushroom. “You really weren’t hungry, were you?”

She swallowed then covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He called the waitress over and ordered another plate. When the new order came, Isabella watched him eat then asked, “So, do you still do it?”

“Do I still do what?”

“You know.” She sent a meaningful glance at the mushrooms.

He finally understood. “Oh you mean this?” He positioned his spoon to face him, rested a mushroom on the handle then hit the spoon, popping the mushroom in his mouth like a catapult. “You mean that?”

“Yes. Show me how.”

He frowned. “You used to scold me when I did that.”

“That didn’t mean I wasn’t impressed.”

“Okay, I’ll show you how easy it is. Scoot over.”

To her horror, Alex sat down beside her. She tried to focus on what he was saying, desperate to ignore the feel of his thigh pressing against hers, the scent of wood that clung to his jacket, and most of all, the compelling beauty of his gaze. She would never mistake him for a lifeless portrait again. He was all too real.

“Izzy, you’re not paying attention.”

She tried to focus. “I’m sorry, this was probably a bad idea.”

“No, it’s not. I’m going to teach you how to do this.”

Alex proved to be a good teacher, but Isabella proved to be a clumsy student. Twice he had to catch a mushroom before it sailed into the next booth and once she nearly poked out her eye. But Alex was patient and determined she would get it and waited until she did, twenty minutes later she accomplished her goal.

“Very good.”

“Thank you.” She grabbed the ticket for her coffee and opened her wallet. “Let me pay for the first plate.”

Alex snatched the wallet from her. “Stop pretending. What are you planning to pay with? Lint?”

She snatched it back. “I have change.”

“How much?”

“None of your business. Move.”

“Izzy, I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“Now.”

He reluctantly stood. “Let me pay.”

“Why? Is that part of the game?”

His jaw twitched. “I’m trying to be nice.”

“But I can’t be nice to you? Only you can spend money? Is that how the game goes?”

“I’m trying to help because I know you don’t have anything.”

“I have my dignity.”

“I was being friendly.”

“I know. It’s just that with you I always wonder why.” She stood and walked away.

Alex sat in his booth for several minutes after Isabella left then paid the bill. He shouldn’t have teased her. That was unfair. But she bothered him. He’d been thinking about her more than he wanted to and he didn’t know why. She didn’t interest him. Gabby was the one who did. She would make a perfect wife. He couldn’t have Isabella’s suspicions get in his way.

Alex walked to his truck and got in. He needed to win Isabella over. He passed the flower shop, then the bakery, and began to smile as the perfect idea came to mind.

She liked him. She wasn’t sure she trusted him, but she liked him. A lot. But how could she forget the condescending way he spoke about her family? The calculated manner in which he selected her sisters? Yet he had no pretence. He was honest about everything he did. He did not pretend to be anything, but who he was: an attractive, rich man in want of status in the form of a grand house and a suitable wife. Could she fault him? Had she been in his shoes, wouldn’t she have done the same thing? Wasn’t her sister also playing the so-called “game”? Yes, she liked him. Perhaps a little too much.

Days after their meeting in the restaurant, Isabella stood by her window and watched Gabby and Alex part. It wasn’t the first time she’d stood glued to the window in the attic, gazing down at them. There was always a gentle kiss goodbye. Isabella could see that there was true affection between them. And at the sight of them (Alex caressing Gabby’s cheek, Gabby resting her head on his shoulder), Isabella’s sleeping heart warmed. They were perfect.

There were no signs of the approaching spring and it seemed clear in a few days they would all have to move through the winter’s slush into the cottage so that Alex could begin renovation on the house. Two days before they had to leave, Isabella woke up to a loud pounding noise. She walked into the hall and met Mariella.

“This is unbearable,” Mariella said. “Who is that?”

Isabella turned back to her room. “They have work to do.”

“It’s the morning.” Mariella covered her ears then let her hands fall. “Don’t they know people have to sleep?”

“It’s nearly ten.”

“I don’t care.” She leaned over the railing and saw two booted legs sticking out from under the stairs. “You! Come out of there!”

The hammering stopped.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said come out of there.”

Alex emerged. Isabella bit her lip to keep from laughing; Mariella looked stunned.

“What are you doing?” she finally asked.

He balanced the hammer in his palm then gripped the handle. “Fixing the stairs. They were squeaking.”

“Don’t you have workers to do that?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Oh.” She gestured for him to continue. “Carry on then.”

He gave a low mocking bow. “Thank you.”

Isabella laughed. Alex winked before disappearing again.

Mariella made a face. “It’s not funny. He shouldn’t go around as if he were some blue collar worker.”

“He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You made an assumption.”

Mariella’s mood didn’t improve the next day when she discovered the cottage only had three rooms and she would be forced to share with Isabella.

“But I’ve always had my own room,” she said as Isabella unpacked her bags.

“It’s only for a few months.”

“I can’t wait until Gabby gets married. I don’t know how much more of this ‘roughing it’ I can bear.”

Isabella agreed. Sharing a room with Mariella was already a chore because she demanded more than half of the room for her clothes and beauty supplies.

When time would allow, Isabella visited different apartments and managed to get two extra hours working for Mrs. Lyons. Although she told Mariella, she wasn’t impressed as she sat on her bed staring at her nails. “I just realized that I haven’t had a manicure in weeks. And do you know why?” She continued before Isabella could respond. “Because I can’t afford it.”

“Mariella, there are worse things.”

“What could be worse? Look at my hands.” She held them out for inspection.

“They look beautiful.”

“They look neglected, which they are. He’s pushed us out of our homes and he’s squeezing us into this sardine can.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Mariella fell back on the bed with an arm dramatically draped over her eyes. “I’m so unhappy.”

Isabella was about to reply when Gabby burst into their bedroom with Daniella close behind.

“Our problems are solved,” Daniella said.

Gabby nudged her. “Let me tell them.”

Mariella sat up. Isabella scrambled to her knees. “Tell us what?” She saw the look on Gabby’s face and her mouth fell open. “He didn’t.”

Gabby held out her hand and wiggled her fingers, showing off her engagement ring. “He did.”

“Isn’t it wonderful!” Daniella said.

Mariella clapped her hands. “Didn’t I tell you my plan was brilliant? I knew it would work.”

Isabella lifted Gabby’s hand and stared at the large diamond ring. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Gabby said.

Mariella tapped her chin. “Of course you must get married as soon as possible so he doesn’t have a chance to change his mind.”

“I don’t see why he would,” Daniella said. “This ring must have cost a fortune.”

Isabella sat back and looked at Gabby. “Are you happy?”

“Of course, she is,” Mariella interrupted. “Why wouldn’t she be? We’re going to be rich. Think of all the privileges she’ll have being his wife.” Mariella stood. “I’m going to go talk to Mrs. Carlton. Don’t worry Gabby, between us you will have a fabulous wedding.” She left.

Daniella moved to follow her. “Isn’t this wonderful? We won’t have to find another place to live after all. I’m going to talk to Sophia.” She kissed Gabby’s cheek then walked away.

Isabella drew her knees to her chest and kept her gaze on Gabby. “You haven’t answered my question. Are you happy?”

Gabby smiled. “Yes, I’m very happy. I like Alex and I’m getting a chance to help my family. What more could I want?”