A Map for Bella Books 1-4

by Paula Kay

  Climbing the stairs felt great. The air still held a bit of a chill—perfect weather for getting a little exercise. She was virtually alone for most of the ascent, taking her time to peer out at the city below. She climbed the last steps before entering onto the first-floor platform. There were a few other people, but it seemed like she was right in assuming that most would be journeying higher up the structure.

  Isabella walked around the outside of the platform, taking in the views of the city from every angle. How lucky was she? She knew that no matter how distracted she became by her writing or whatever else was going on in her life, she had to remind herself of everything that she’d been given.

  Paris. She’d just spent almost an entire month in a beautiful apartment in the heart of the city that people dreamed of visiting. Arianna couldn’t possibly have imagined that Isabella would grow up dreaming about the very places that her own birth mother had longed to see and experience.

  Isabella looked around the platform, before crossing it to a spot that was relatively clear of tourists. She sat cross-legged and opened the journal. She read the first letter from Arianna and thought again about what her mother’s money had done for her. She’d always be grateful for the opportunities that she now had because of all the wealth Arianna had left her.

  She turned the page to read the next letter. These were the ones that she’d not shared with anyone else yet. She could almost picture Arianna writing them—just a few years older than Isabella was now. Had she been feeling well when the words were written? The letters were dated and she knew that the dates coincided with the time Arianna had been with Isabella’s grandmother, Lia, in Tuscany. She wanted to think that her mother had been feeling well then—that writing the letters had made her feel better somehow.

  Isabella took a deep breath in as she began to read.

  Chapter 8

  My Sweet Bella,

  I’ve long since made peace with my death, which is coming soon. I’ve made peace with the fact that there are so many things I’ve not done, so many things I’ve not experienced.

  We never know, do we? What the future might hold—what direction our lives might take.

  So now, I only think of you, my darling daughter—of everything that I wish for you.

  I have so many hopes and dreams for you, Bella. I want everything for you. But most of all I want you to be happy, to not waste time thinking about regrets or a future that is far from now.

  These are the things I wish for you—that I want desperately for you.

  I want you to always have hope within your heart—to know that no matter what the past holds or who you were yesterday, your future can be whatever you imagine it to be.

  What are your hopes and dreams, Bella? Do you know?

  Spend some time getting to know yourself, without the distractions of others, without the distractions of the things (and people) that bring you stress.

  Travel. See the world if it’s what you desire. Have an adventure and don’t ever lose sight of that belief—of that hope—that all your dreams can come true.

  I want you to become the very best version of yourself that you can be—the version of yourself that makes you happiest and leaves you feeling content and complete.

  I want for you to know love, Bella—to give your heart to another for all eternity.

  If I have any regrets, my biggest one is that I didn’t live long enough to know the true love of my soulmate. I didn’t know what it was like to have an open heart until the end of my days. I’d spent too much of my short life guarded, being afraid to let someone in who could make me feel the pain of potential loss.

  Take chances with your heart when you know deep in your soul that the one looking into your eyes loves you like no other.

  Be brave and courageous when it comes to love, Bella. Experience it deeply without holding back.

  Lastly (although there are too many things for words that I want for you)—lastly, I want for you to know a sense of family, a true sense of home.

  I didn’t really know this for myself until the end, and then it was the most important thing of all to me. If I have one wish, one prayer for you above all others, it’s this—that you would be surrounded by people who love you, who you can depend on and who you call family. I dare to imagine that by now, my family—our family—has also become yours, Bella. I want you to always have a safe place to land—to always have your family and your place to come home to…whatever that looks like for you.

  I’d by lying if I said that my heart is not breaking for everything that I will miss in never getting to hold you in my arms once again.

  But these things make me smile—imagining you, my sweet girl—filled with hope, being loved, and knowing the peace and contentment that comes from having a home that is filled with a family that loves and supports you until the end of time.

  I know that you will have these things. You deserve everything good and more.

  When you think of me, as you read these letters or look at pictures of me, please don’t be sad.

  Smile now, live your life well, and be happy always.

  I love you, my sweet Bella.

  Your Mother,

  Arianna Sinclair

  Isabella wiped at just the hint of a tear making its way down her cheek. She’d read the letters—the entire journal—too many times to count, but it was rare that not one tear fell from her eyes. It was the kind of letter that needed to be read over and over—especially for someone as headstrong and hard on herself as she was. She knew that much was true.

  It was interesting to think about the things that her mother had wanted for her. She was young. She had so much time to figure out what she wanted in life—time to feel the sort of happiness and contentment that Arianna had wanted for her. She realized, even as she was having the thought, how ridiculous it was. Arianna probably had thought that she’d had all the time in the world too.

  Isabella sighed as she stood up from where she’d been sitting away from the other tourists. She did need to figure some things out, to let go a little more. She definitely needed to make a commitment to herself about enjoying this next leg of her trip with Jemma and Thomas. She’d do that much in honor of her mother’s wishes for her—she owed her that much.

  She made her way to the elevator to take it to the top. She felt tired all of a sudden, and walking the remaining steps to the next landing was not as appealing. She had one thing left to do before she left Paris, and she wanted the very best view of the city when she did it.

  Isabella stepped out of the elevator, thankful that for some odd reason it wasn’t as crowded on the higher-level platform as she’d thought it would be. She made her way to the outermost walkway, her hand tightening instinctively on her purse. Ever since she’d received the box of items from her birth mother—ever since her grandmother had showed her Arianna’s map and given her the small urn of ashes—Isabella had had the idea of what she had to do with her mother’s ashes.

  Jemma had played devil’s advocate, when Isabella had shared her plan to spread the ashes in the places that they’d be traveling too. She knew there was a risk—that it wasn’t exactly legal in most places, including from the top of the Eiffel Tower, but it wasn’t more than a pinch or so in each place. Isabella was willing to take that risk for the sake of doing something meaningful in honor of Arianna—it was her way of taking the trip with her mother, as odd as it sounded when she’d first told the idea to Jemma.

  Now it had become a ritual of sorts—one that she looked forward to as a way to transition from place to place on the journey that she was on. It was her journey, but it was Arianna’s also.

  Isabella smiled as she reached into her bag to take the top off of the small urn. Inside the ashes were already divided into very small plastic bags that she could discreetly take out one by one. She did so now, opening one and walking to a place where she felt comfortable regarding the lack of wind and people close by.

  “Bon voyage. Thank you for Paris.�
�� she whispered as the ashes left the bag.

  Chapter 9

  Isabella stood back to look at the map on the wall, before taking it down to pack. She’d just highlighted Paris in green, which now matched all of the locations that Arianna had marked in Italy—all of the places Isabella and Jemma had been to prior to landing in Paris weeks ago.

  It had been nice to stay put for a while in Paris. The moving around so quickly had been fun but a bit hectic when it came to her writing. Somehow she’d managed it, though. She still couldn’t believe that she’d actually written her first novel in such a short time. Somehow the words had just flowed. Well, she had yet to get the manuscript back from the editor she’d hired but she wouldn’t dwell on the revision process just yet. She was still basking in the feeling of accomplishment for having completed it.

  “Bella, are you looking forward to Ireland?” Jemma had come over beside her to peer at the map. “And is Thomas going to join us for that?”

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to it, and in answer to your question about Thomas—I guess I don’t really know. I mean, he’s been saying that he’s coming, but I think I need to prepare for the fact that he might change his mind—you know, now that Natasha’s in the picture.” Isabella shook her head as if doing so would shake the thoughts away. “I don’t know. I don’t want to think about that right now. I guess we’ll just wait and see.”

  “Well, we’ve got a few weeks in London anyway. I can’t wait to show you everything—I’m sure Thomas and Natahhhhsha will have plenty to show us too, but I’ve always loved London since the first time my mother took me there as a little girl. I wanna show you all the things I love about it.”

  Isabella laughed. Jemma was being funny in regards to Natasha, and she should be worried that the poor girl wouldn’t be getting a fair chance from either of them. “Jem, let’s not be too hard on Thomas’s girlfriend, okay? I don’t want my weird feelings to color what you might think about her. And yes, I want you to show me absolutely everything. I can’t wait.”

  Jemma laughed too. “I know. I’m only joking.” She looked around the room. “So, I’m about done with my packing. How ’bout you?”

  Isabella carefully took the map off the wall and began to roll it up to fit in the cylinder-shaped container they’d picked up for it. “Yep, this is it for me too, I guess. One last walk in the park, followed by Nutella crepes and a coffee?”

  Jemma grinned. “It’s as if you can read my mind, ma chérie.”

  Isabella tried to calm her nerves as they waited for the plane to come to its complete stop. The morning commute to the airport had been uneventful, followed by a very short flight to what would be Isabella’s third county now on her travels abroad. Unlike the first flight she’d taken, from the U.S. to Florence, this time her nervousness did not have to do with flying at all. She was beyond nervous about seeing Thomas and it was really starting to bother her.

  Jemma seemed to be watching her intently as she took her phone out from her purse to turn it on.

  “You okay? Everything’s gonna be fine. You’ll see. And I can’t wait to meet Thomas.”

  Isabella took a deep breath as she punched in the text to let Thomas know that they were on the ground. “What? Sorry. Why am I feeling so weird? And I’m anxious for you to meet him also.” She smiled at Jemma as the line of people started making their way down the aisle, just as her phone beeped with a text.

  I’m here. Just outside of baggage. Can’t wait to see you, Iz!

  “Well?” Jemma was waiting for her to say something.

  “He’s here. Says he’ll meet us outside of baggage claim.”

  They reached up to collect their bags from the overhead compartment, and Isabella thought she might throw up as she made her way to the door.

  They cleared passport control rather quickly, and in no time at all they were waiting for their bags to show up on the carousel. Isabella was trying to take deep breaths to slow her heart rate as they waited in line to go through customs with their bags. The line was moving quickly. Thomas was just on the other side of the doors waiting for her. Why was she so darn nervous?

  Jemma looked back at her as she waited for Isabella to come through. “Ready?”

  Isabella grinned at her, remembering how excited she was to see Thomas—to see her best friend. She was being ridiculous for feeling so nervous. “Yes, I can’t wait for you to meet him. I can’t wait to see him.” She picked up the pace and felt a renewed sense of excitement, the nerves replaced by the typical sense of familiarity she always felt around Thomas.

  Then she saw him before he saw her. He was looking at the tall beautiful woman by his side—a woman who could only be Natasha—with her head thrown back, laughing at something being said between them. He was looking at her in a way that made Isabella’s heart sink, but she plastered a big grin on her face just as Thomas looked up to notice her walking toward him.

  Chapter 10

  “Izzy!”

  Isabella laughed as Thomas picked her up off the ground, plastering her cheeks with kisses.

  “It’s so good to see you.” He was grinning at her when he finally put her down.

  Isabella reached for his neck to hug him close. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered in his ear, noticing Jemma grinning nearby. With one last squeeze she let him go. “Thomas, this is Jemma. I’ve been dying for you two to meet. I can’t believe it’s finally happening.”

  “Ah, the famous Jemma—lovely as I remember from our video introduction.” He leaned over to give her a hug.

  Isabella noticed the woman—presumably Natasha—put her hand on Thomas’s back just as he’d finished hugging Jemma.

  “Honey, are you going to introduce me?” She laughed lightly but Isabella didn’t miss the expression on her face. Was it one of amusement or annoyance?

  Thomas took the woman’s hand. “Yes, of course, darling.” He turned toward Isabella. “This is Natasha. Natasha, meet my best friend, Isabella.”

  Natasha stuck out her hand to grasp Isabella’s in a firm handshake. “It’s great to finally meet you, Isabella. Thomas has told me a lot about you.”

  That’s funny, because he’s hardly told me anything about you.

  Isabella smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you also.”

  Jemma stuck her hand out toward Natasha. “Hi, I’m Jemma. Thanks for meeting us at the airport. That was really great of you.”

  “Of course. We’ve got a car waiting and we’ll have the driver drop you two at your apartment,” said Natasha.

  “And you’ll come in? To hang out for a while, yes?” said Isabella, directing her question toward Thomas.

  She saw the quick glance between him and Natasha. “Of course. I’d love to. I’m afraid Natasha has to be getting back to work—”

  Isabella didn’t miss the squeeze of Natasha’s hand as Thomas directed his next words to her.

  “—Honey, you don’t mind if I go to help them get settled, do you?”

  Isabella hated watching the exchange. It looked odd—Thomas asking for permission to spend time with Isabella. She watched Natasha’s face intently as she responded, her expression not quite matching her words.

  “No, you go right ahead. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do. Let’s get going, shall we then?”

  Isabella tried to focus on the chatter between Thomas and Jemma as they pointed at things out the window on the way to the apartment, but her attention kept shifting to Natasha, who was quietly looking out the window.

  She didn’t seem like the type of woman Thomas would date at all. She was very well put together, dressed in a business suit, her dark hair pulled back in a bun with not a hair out of place. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty. She was, but something about her was off-putting to Isabella. She tried to shake the feeling, wanting to like her. She had to try—for Thomas.

  “Here we are.” Natasha finally turned toward the group in the car as they pulled up next to a very cool South Bank apartment buildi
ng.

  Isabella and Jemma had found the apartment online and deemed it perfect for them as soon as they saw the pictures of the view. Thomas had gone ahead to check it out and he’d already collected the keys for them the day before.

  Isabella turned to Jemma as they waited for the driver to help get their bags out of the car. “Jem, this looks pretty great, huh?”

  “I already love the neighborhood. Look how cute everything looks.”

  Isabella heard Natasha’s laugh as she got out of the car to stand next to them. “Well, I don’t know if cute is quite the right word to describe one of London’s better neighborhoods, but I’m glad you like it.”

  Maybe she didn’t mean to come off as snooty, but her accent probably wasn’t helping with the impression she was delivering, Isabella thought as Jemma stuck her tongue out toward Natasha’s back. She turned toward Natasha. “Are you sure you can’t come up for a little bit?”

  “No, thanks for asking.” Natasha looked at her watch. “Actually, I really do have to run. I’ve got a meeting in an hour. But it was lovely meeting you both. Isabella, would you like to have coffee sometime in the next few days?”

  Isabella hoped her smiled seemed genuine. Natasha’s invitation surprised her, but it made sense that they should get to know one another. She nodded in response to Natasha’s question. “Sure. I’d love to. Do you want to text me with the time and place?”