Isabelle

I took Slater’s hand as he helped me out of the vehicle and escorted me into the gallery. Once safely inside, he and Colton stepped to the side, doing their best to watch me while remaining unobtrusive, even though I would rather have them with me, since I preferred their company a million times over to anyone else who was already here. I had no interest in discussing galas and soirées or where so-and-so was vacationing and what my plans were for the upcoming holidays. It’s not like any of them cared anyway. It was all just gossip and trying to one-up each other for power and status—none of which I had any interest in.

It only took but a moment for my mother to spot me, her own bodyguards lingering just out of the way. And though she wouldn’t do anything so extreme as to wave me over, ignoring her would only incur her bitter wrath. Steeling myself, I headed over to where she was, knowing that the sooner I dealt with her and put in my time, the sooner I’d be able to get out of here and head back home.

She finished chatting with James Wallace III, and then pulled me aside, her nails digging into my arm as I fought the urge to yank myself free of her grip. “You’re late, Isabelle. Though I suppose I should be grateful you showed up at all, even if I gave you plenty of notice.”

I bit back the sarcastic remark dancing on my tongue, knowing no good would come from arguing with my mother, especially in public. “Well, we’re here now, and clearly the event is far from over so let’s just write this off as fashionably late. But if you’d rather, I’m happy to just head home, especially since I had a busy day working at the lab, and my work there is far more important than gallery openings.”

I was trying to make a real difference in the world. Not that my mother cared, or had any interest in my work or in the affairs of the world beyond how they related to her sphere of influence. But that wasn’t me. I was far more like my father, who knew that happiness didn’t come from wealth, but that if you could put that wealth to good use, to make the world a better place, rather than lining your coffers, that might offer a bit of happiness that went beyond just your own.

My mother rolled her eyes at my statement. “Of course… Your work at the lab. Because it’s clearly far more important that you waste your time tinkering with nonsense, even in the midst of a crisis. Someone wants us dead, and you just care about your little invention. Never mind how much this has upset me. But I suppose you’d be free to do whatever you want if I was finally gone.”

“Oh…so my work is just too much, but a gallery opening is perfectly acceptable.” It was impossible for me not to roll my eyes at her. It was always one drama or another. And if it wasn’t that, then she was finding new ways of making me feel guilty for imagined slights. As if I would be happy to see her dead, when all I really wanted was for her to find a bit of happiness with the life she had, instead of finding joy in making me feel I was never good enough and manipulating me into doing her bidding. “And please don’t imply that I want you to come to harm. That’s nothing but a cruel untruth and you know it.”

She waved me away. “Don’t make it sound like you care, Isabelle. You only ever loved your father.”

It hurt me that she would even speak those words, given that she was the only parent I had left, yet she didn’t care as long as she got the upper hand. Tears stung my eyes and I forced down the lump in my throat, shaking my head as I walked away from her, doing my best to compose myself before anyone noticed that I was upset.

Yet someone did notice. Slater was immediately at my side, gently taking my elbow and guiding me to a far corner of the gallery where I could have a bit more privacy. When he spoke, he kept his voice down so that only I could hear. “Are you okay, Izzy?”

All I could do was nod, knowing that my emotions would get the best of me if I tried to speak. He snagged me a flute of champagne from one of the waiters who walked past us, handing it to me once we were tucked out of the way. I took a sip, the bubbles feeling far too cheerful in comparison to the way I felt. Yet having Slater close by certainly helped, though it was embarrassing to have him see me so emotional. And over what? My mom’s stupid games. One would think I would be used to them by now, yet she still managed to get to me, which I supposed was why she continued to go there, knowing she could press my well-worn buttons and get a rise out of me whenever I’d “upset” her.

“Thank you. I’m fine now. And the collection…the artwork…it really is quite lovely.” I glanced around the room, taking in the art in a futile attempt to make my words seem more sincere, despite the fact that Slater knew I was upset and there was no hiding it.

“If you’d like to go, I can have the car brought around.” His brow furrowed under the strain of some unknown tension, though if I had to guess it was because he had a whole lot to say, and instead was doing his best to hold back his words and opinion.

That was the one thing about Slater… He seemed to have a hard time not speaking his mind—a trait I was actually quite grateful for, since far too many people only told me what they thought I wanted to hear. Except for my mother, of course, whose goal was entirely different.

“I suppose I should stay since I’ve taken the time to actually put on a dress and show up. Besides…it can’t get too much worse, right?” Maybe if I told myself lies, I might actually believe them. So I managed a smile, knowing that at the very least I had Slater close at hand, watching my back.

“No, things won’t get any worse, because I’m not going to let them.” The protective fierceness in his voice caught me off guard, especially since it sounded like he truly believed what he’d just said, and they weren’t just hollow words spoken to set my mind at ease. “If you need anything at all, Izzy…I’ll be just a step away. Just glance in my direction, and I’ll be right there for you.”

“I truly appreciate it.” It might be silly, but having him close by set my mind at ease, even if I was only dealing with my mother and people I’d known most of my life.

Like Tansy Gilbert, who was wandering over toward me, looking over Slater from head to toe as he slipped away to guard me from a distance. Tansy air-kissed me on each cheek, as I tried once again not to roll my eyes, since it was clear that the only thing she was really interested in was Slater.

“Isabelle… It’s been so long. I’m so glad you’re finally back in Seattle, though it’s just horrible what you’re going through with the death threats. And that man you were speaking to…is he your security detail? Lucked out on that one, didn’t you? Oh my—there’s two of them. Lucky girl. You’ll have to introduce me, now won’t you. What security firm are you using? I might have to get a few guards of my own, if you know what I mean.” She winked at me and laughed, finally taking a breather from her monologue as her gaze remained glued on Slater and Colton.

“It’s been too long, Tansy. Do make sure to stop by. My mother would love to see you too, I’m sure.” Not that I expected Tansy to come calling. She usually didn’t bother with anything more than a simple hello, which made her motives all too clear. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, and might call it an early night.”

“Can’t blame you there. With those two watching over me? I’d be heading home early too.”

Now to deal with my mother. I could simply slip away when she wasn’t looking, but given our current circumstances, I didn’t want her worrying that something had happened to me. Not that she’d ever truly cared about my well-being before.

Worry about what other people might say about us, or what they may think? Of course.

But worry about her daughter? That would be asking just a little too much of her.

The gallery wasn’t so large that you’d lose anyone, and I immediately spotted my mother, chatting and laughing with an acquaintance of hers. I waited until she’d finished her conversation, and then pulled her aside. “I’m heading home. It’s been a long day, I’m exhausted, and quite frankly, the security company you hired has told us time and again that being here is a bad idea. So if you have any sense of self-preservation, you’ll go home too.”

“That’s nonsense. And you just got here. You can’t go, Isabelle. It’s rude and unseemly to show up at a party and then to leave just minutes after you’ve arrived.” She looked mortified, though I wasn’t terribly surprised. “I don’t know why you insist on doing this to me.”

“The only thing I’m doing is letting you know that I’m going home—and it isn’t a courtesy I needed to extend. So please don’t take it as a personal affront, Mother. It’s not meant to be.”

“Well, I don’t see why I shouldn’t take it as such, when I only asked you for this one small favor.”