Truth or Lies?, A. Gomez [reading an ebook .TXT] 📗

did need to plan something. Maybe with everyone’s help we could manage to get out of there. I didn’t feel very confident, however.

Betty and I went back to our bedroom. She asked me what Chang and I talked about and I let her know it was about art only. She didn’t need to know about that “special” website I was on. I educated her on a few pieces as we passed them on our way back to our bedroom. She said her favorite class in school was art and one day she’d like to be a great artist and an art teacher. She added that Caroline taught her how to make pretty flowers out of duct tape so she needed to practice doing that before she moved on to sculpting or doing collages. She sounded so positive and carefree. Not once did she ask if we were ever going to be able to leave this place, which led me to believe she thought we were. If anything, Betty Lou was optimistic.

33

Back in our bedroom, Betty Lou busied herself with making duct tape flowers while I rummaged through a few books that I had found from Lilly’s side of the room. I decided on one that seemed fairly interesting. I ambled toward the bed as I was reading the preface when we heard a knock on the door before it swung open. It was Debbie carrying three very large department store bags and two garment bags.

“The boss said for you to wear the green dress to dinner tonight and the metallic heels with it.” She placed the bags on the bed and turned to leave. She paused at the door, her back to us, turning her head a fraction toward us. “And don’t think just because the boss likes you you’re not ever going to work, or your young friend too.”

Surprisingly, she closed the door very quietly behind her. Hm, I’d bet she didn’t want to ruin “the boss’” house. Debbie had just reaffirmed what I’d been thinking from the moment we arrived… the longer we stayed, the greater the possibility that Betty Lou would start going to “appointments.” I knew from the start that I would have to work. I even offered to take Betty’s place on one of the websites, trying to protect her from those pedophiles. But for how long could I keep her safe and off the internet? Debbie just said the boss liked me. I suspected he liked our conversations and my company, not necessarily me, so if I could keep him happy, keep our conversations interesting and he continued to like me, then maybe, just maybe, I could possibly talk him into letting Betty go. It was a long shot but I had to try.

“Isabel Grace,” Betty chimed. “These dresses are very pretty.” She had turned one of the bags upside-down and dumped everything on the bed. “The green one Debbie said he wants you to wear looks like it matches your eyes.”

“I wonder if that’s why he made Debbie get it?” I looked at the label. Gucci. I picked up the paisley dress. Gucci. I picked up another one and it too was Gucci. In all, he had bought me seven dresses. Five of them were Gucci and two of them were Prada. The Prada dresses were more formal, evening dress. What the heck did he have in mind?

“Try them on, try them on.” Betty was bouncing up and down, excited to play dress up. “And look,” she exclaimed, turning the second bag upside down. “This one has two pairs of shoes and the other bag has two pairs of shoes too!”

I put the green dress on with a pair of metallic Jimmy Choo stiletto heels. They were the only metallic heels in the bunch. I walked to the bathroom so I could take a look at myself in the mirror. Betty kept gushing over how pretty the dress was and how pretty I looked. She especially liked the shoes. The dress had a fitted bodice with a plunging neckline in front and in back. The skirt was just above my knees and not fitted, but it did hug my hips slightly, and had a slit on either side.

“Now all you need is some jewelry, Isabel Grace. Do you think he’ll get you that too?”

I turned my head, meeting her gaze. “Oh, I hope not. It would definitely get more awkward if he did something like that.” I kept turning around, looking at myself in the mirror. The dress was certainly lovely and the heels with it made the outfit that much more attractive. I looked like I was ready for a night on the town or a cocktail party, especially with my new hairdo and makeup. Lilly walked in, her eyes bulging.

She whistled. “Wow! What kind of appointment do you have? You look incredible!”

“She’s having dinner with Mr. Chang,” Betty answered, her voice light and enthusiastic. “Doesn’t Isabel Grace look pretty?”

“She looks more than pretty,” Lilly countered. “She looks drop-dead gorgeous.” Lilly walked into the bathroom and sat in the little vanity chair. “So, does Mr. Chang like you, Isabel? You just had lunch with him and now you’re having dinner too?”

“No, no. I think he just likes the company and talking art with me, that’s all.”

“Er… I don’t think that’s all,” Lilly retorted, her voice skeptical. “If it were just that, then why is he making you get all dressed up like that? Jeans and a T-shirt is good enough if you’re just going to eat and talk art. Don’t you think?”

Lilly had a point; looking down at her, I nodded my head. She was right. All the clothes that Debbie brought were either cocktail dresses or evening dresses, no jeans, shirts or warm-ups. There was even nice lingerie. The room got quiet. I was trying to process this weirdness that was happening. I