“Holy shit,” they exclaimed in near-unison as Isabella’s glass slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor.
Suddenly, everything clicked in Isabella’s brain. It all made sense—the reason she and James had so much in common, the reason the photo in his house was so familiar.
Sitting at the table with his arm around Isabella’s mother was James’s father, just as shocked and confused as the rest of them.
Chapter Fourteen
“What the fuck is going on?” Isabella hissed.
“Language,” her mother scolded. “I should ask you the same. Sit down, both of you, before you start a scene.”
“This is your daughter?” James’s dad asked.
“Of course it is!”
“Cynthia, sweetie,” he said carefully. “I’d like to introduce you to my son, James. He’s the one I was telling you lived in town.”
Her mouth fell into a perfect O. “No, what are the chances?”
Isabella scoffed. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“My name is Charles,” he said to Isabella, trying to salvage the situation. “And son, this is my wife, Cynthia.”
James put on a brave face. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs.—” He screwed up his face. “I suppose it’s Mrs. Johnson, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you, James. Both from your father and my daughter.”
A waitress returned with a fresh drink for Isabella. She finished it in three long gulps and loudly set it back on the table.
“I supposed you couldn’t put two and two together when the descriptions of your new stepson and your daughter’s boyfriend matched,” she spat.
“Calm down, Isabella,” her mother said. “There’s no need to spoil our dinner.”
She looked to James for backup. He looked utterly repulsed.
“Why didn’t you say you were in town?” he asked his father.
“You’re always so busy, and I didn’t know about this meeting until yesterday. I thought I’d give you a call on Sunday while you were home. I’m sorry for the confusion.”
James took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault. If I had made it to your wedding, or even visited home more often, this never would have happened in the first place.”
Isabella was a little less forgiving. “This is so messed up. I think I’m going to just call a cab.”
“No,” her mother and James said together.
“I see you a few times a year, and you’re thinking about leaving?” her mom asked. “Charles has been wanting to meet you for a long time.”
“Fine, I’ll stay.”
When the waiter arrived, Isabella ordered yet another drink and a salad. She didn’t have an appetite, nor did she want to sit in the restaurant sober. In most instances, her mom would have said something about her excessive drinking, but given the circumstances, she let it slide.
“So, tell me about the wedding,” James said, trying to keep it together.
“It was really nice,” his dad said. “We rented a boat and a crew and sailed to the Bahamas. We were married on a little island and spent our wedding night in a little cabin right on the ocean.”
“It was positively divine,” Cynthia gushed. “We were planning a larger wedding at first, but we’d already done that a few times before.” She giggled. “When we heard that neither of you kids could attend, we decided to have the wedding just with the two of us. It was really romantic.”
“Wow,” James said. “Isabella and I could have met months before. And at our parents’ wedding, no less.”
“James,” his father said. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were seeing anyone?”
“We were trying to keep our relationship under wraps.”
Isabella jumped in. “I recently started my internship at the hospital. It was sort of a mistake how we got involved in the first place. A lapse of judgment on my part.”
James crinkled his brow. He wasn’t used to Isabella being so nasty to him.
“Don’t take all the credit, Iz,” he said. “It was probably against my better judgment, too, to sleep with an underling.”
Isabella gasped. “Underling?”
“Sorry, maybe that was a poor choice of words. You get the picture, though.”
“May I excuse myself for a moment?” Isabella asked the table.
“Are you coming back?” her mom asked.
“Yes, I’m just going to the restroom for a moment.”
Isabella didn’t wait for a response before striding away from the table. She found an empty stall, closed the toilet lid, and sat down, burying her face in her hands.
For the first time in her life, Isabella was in a great relationship, and now, it was more than likely over. She couldn’t possibly date her stepbrother. It felt so disgusting to think that every time they made love, she was with her brother.
She’d had plenty of stepsiblings in the past. They were never close because they didn’t spend much time together. But if she had gotten to know any of her stepbrothers, she would never even dream of hooking up with them. They weren’t blood relatives, but they were still siblings. That counted for something.
She thought about what others would say if they knew about their relation. If they had a child, their family tree would be twisted, like vines crisscrossing every which way. People like Isabella didn’t engage in incestual relations. That was for poor
, uneducated people and royal families. Someone in her profession and of her social standing had no business getting freaky with her stepbrother.
She tried to steel herself, wishing she had more of the little pills she took earlier in the day. The vodka helped to dull the shock, but it was making her feel queasy.
Exiting the stall, she splashed cold water on her face and blotted herself dry with a paper towel. She looked at her sorry self in the mirror. This dinner was far worse than she could have ever imagined. Family gatherings just got infinitely more awkward.
She walked back to the table and noticed smiles on Cynthia’s and Charles’s faces. They were absolutely enthralled with whatever James was talking about.
“What did I miss?” she asked.
“James was just telling us about his work,” her mom answered. “Darling, he’s quite the catch.”
James smiled. Isabella frowned.
“I suppose he was, wasn’t he?”
“He reminds me a lot of his father,” she continued. “Brilliant, charming, handsome, and kind. Girls like us can’t help but fall in love with them.”
“Girls like us? We’re hardly alike.”
“I don’t know about that,” Charles said. “You’re both gorgeous women who know exactly what you want.”
“I don’t know if my mother always knows what she wants. She has been married, oh, how many times now?”
“You’re not revealing any scandals there,” her mom said dryly. “Charles has been married a few times himself. But this is it,” she said, grabbing his hand. “We’re in this until the end.”
Isabella and James’s parents gave each other a quick peck on the lips. They winced.
“I’m very happy for you,” James said. “I hope to find that kind of love one day.”
“You haven’t told him you love him?” her mother asked.
“Of course not!”
“Isabella, he’s not going to wait around forever for a woman who is afraid to show her feelings.”
“I’m married to my job,” she retorted.
“Yes, but your job will not be there for you at night. Your job certainly won’t give us grandkids.”