She didn’t miss a beat, nodded to him and said, “Well, that’s kind of you.”
Then she took another sip of her drink and started to study the carpet.
Complete cool.
In fact, ice cold.
How was he once in love with this woman?
An hour later, when he had to pick up the kids, he took her to the school and she stood beside him while Jason had sauntered and Sally had rushed toward the 4x4.
Sally came to a skidding halt and stared at Isabella. Then her wide, glittering, happy eyes swung to her father.
“Is she a movie star?” Sally breathed.
Isabella startled him by laughing. It was not the uproarious, full-throated laughter he knew from decades ago. This was more controlled but, nevertheless, authentic.
“You’re my new best friend,” she told Sally.
Prentice mentally braced.
His daughter was all girl, all girl with no mother and the likes of Isabella was undoubtedly a dream come true.
“I am?” Sally whispered.
“You are,” Isabella confirmed on a nod then went on, sealing Prentice’s doom, “I like your nail polish.”
Sally held up her hands and surveyed them. “It needs changed.”
“I’m a pretty dab hand with a manicure,” Isabella replied.
Prentice had no doubt of that.
“You’d give me a manicure?” Sally asked, like this was her most fervent wish when he knew that morning (because she told him, twice), her most fervent wish was to have a horse and the morning before it had been to go shopping at Harrods, not that he knew where she picked up that ludicrous idea and lamented the fact that his daughter had to go to school at all, especially when there were other girls there with imaginations far more vivid than Sally’s, which was saying something.
“I’m Bella,” Isabella said softly and Sally sighed.
“No, you’re Mrs. Evangelista,” Prentice stated firmly and Isabella’s head turned to him enquiringly but he ignored her and looked at his daughter. “And she’s staying with us for a week. She’s Annie’s maid of honor.”
“And I’m the flower girl!” Sally trilled, rushing up to Isabella and grabbing her hand. “We are going to be best friends, even better! Annie’s-wedding-friends!”
Prentice sighed, Jason, who had arrived, stared at his sister like she was from another planet.
“This is my son, Jason,” Prentice offered.
“Hello,” Isabella said softly, studying his son.
Jason moved his stare to her, pink hit his cheeks then he moved to the 4x4 and muttered, “’Lo.”
Fiona’s death had caused Sally confusion and distress, both of which she worked through with the spirit and zest for life that she’d inherited from her mother.
Fiona’s death had caused Jason immense pain which had not abated in the slightest in over a year.
The drive home had been filled with Sally’s chatter which was lucky even as it was annoying.
Now they were home and Prentice had no earthly clue what to do with Isabella Evangelista.
What he did know was that there was only one thing more hateful than having this woman in the home he’d built for Fiona and that one thing was the fact that Fiona no longer shared that home with him.