Scarred Beauty(50)

“No comment,” Isaac said.

“What about news of a meeting with your father?” another reporter asked.

“Why is she a scarred beauty?”

At the last question Isaac turned to the media. He looked fierce and every one of his forty years. A hand went to her mouth as she gasped at the change within him. He looked angry.

“I never want to hear these questions again after this. Am I understood?” Murmurs echoed from each member of the press. “The woman I was having dinner with is a budding artist whose work is the best I’ve ever seen. Noelle Evans is an up and coming star. Our relationship is nothing more than a business one. Good day.”

Hearing her full name from his lips was a heady experience if not a little upsetting. She was angry with him for the lying, but to completely blank their relationship as nothing but business ... hurt. Turning the television off, she went and stood next to her window. As she had known would happen, the city was alight with the approaching festive season. A month was still to go before the big day. The city would work for a few weeks to get every light looking perfect.

More than she liked to think about, her thoughts drifted back to Brad. She knew there would come a point where she would have to talk to him again.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her coat from the door. She intended to go see her best friend. The ringing of the telephone stopped her in her tracks. Frowning, she waited for the voice mail service to pick up.

“This is Noelle Evans. I’m not in right now, but please leave a message after the beep.”

The sound of the machine beeping kicked in.

“Noelle, honey. It’s your dad.” A cough and the sound of muttering came over the line. “I spoke to your friend Bradley, and he gave me this number. He said you two had a fight and had moved out. Well, I guess I’d better tell you why I called. We want to see you, honey. Me and your mum. We want you to come home for Christmas.”

A pause and more rustling around.

“I better go. Take care, Noelle. Love you.”

The click of the message finished. She pulled away from the door and went over to the phone. She pressed the play button, listening to the message again. Tears filled her eyes as she thought about her father. She would have to visit him soon. Sitting down in the seat beside the phone, she stared at her hands. In the space of two years so much had changed. She wasn’t the eighteen year old woman who’d run out of her home to get away from the man she felt was responsible for ruining her life. The relationship she had with her father had been an excellent one at one point. When she had gone to school, and after the accident which had given her the scars, that relationship had been tested.

Seeing her faults with a clearer eye, she knew what she had to do. She would visit her parents closer to Christmas.

First, she needed to go to the loft to collect her paintings from Isaac. She had an appointment with a man who was interested in selling her paintings at auction, but he wanted to see what she had to offer before he did.

Grabbing her keys from the side by the phone, she called a taxi and waited outside. The journey to the loft which Isaac had bought was a long one. Every passing second she wanted to ask the driver to turn back. She didn’t know if he would be there or not. When the man pulled up she asked him to wait for her.

“It will cost for me to keep the motor running.”

“Of course.” She no longer expected anything else. Everyone wanted more money or quicker ways of getting out of paying. Staring up at the building she squared her shoulders before entering.

At first glance it looked like the loft was empty. The furniture hadn’t been moved, and her art-work remained in the same place. On closer inspection she saw that her paintings were placed around the room, each one in clear view of the sofa.

Isaac sat on the sofa staring at her art work.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” she said.

“You sent me a text to say you would be taking your art work, and you think I wouldn’t be here to try and convince you to stay?” He turned his gaze on her.

“Why would you try to do that?”

“Because I love you, and no matter what you think that will never stop.”

His words struck deep in her heart.

“I’ve come for the paintings.”

“Then take them.” He gestured to each one. Opening and closing her hands, she stared at him not wanting to move. After several minutes passed Noelle pulled herself out of the trance and began to gather her work.

Isaac sat on the sofa, watching her but not making a move. When she pulled the last painting off the easel, she felt him behind her. Spinning around, she gasped as he pressed her against the wall.