Isabella was again silent.
“They like you,” Mikey said.
Isabella looked out the window. “More fool them.”
She felt Mikey squeeze her thigh. “There’s a good deal to like, girlie-girl.”
Hardly, she thought but she kept her silence.
Mikey slid to a halt outside Prentice’s house and ogled it through her window as he had that morning when he came to pick her up.
“I’ve got to say, Bella darling, this house is something else.”
She couldn’t agree more.
She stared at the house, sprawling and imposing on its cliff, somehow looking like it erupted from the cleft where it was situated and belonged there.
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.