Gut churning, I follow my twin.
The hostess greets dad with a nod. Although she looks cool and collected, the other people in the restaurant do not. Whispers roar from the surrounding tables. Phones flash. Excited squeals break out like a wave.
Without a word, the hostess escorts us into a private room.
Zane and dad file in first.
Finn and I are right behind them.
A gasp breaks out from dad’s oh-so-important guest. Something about the voice is familiar, but Zane’s currently standing frozen in my path. I step past him to see who’s in the room and my eyes fly open.
Miss Jamieson is sitting around the table. Her face is all dolled up, her hair’s in a ponytail that cascades down her back and she’s wearing a fitted black dress with one of those artsy, cleavage-plunging necklines that show all the way to her navel.
Zane takes an angry step forward and Finn clamps a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Zane halts. A vein pops out on my twin’s neck. He stares at Miss Jamieson with something close to betrayal.
I glance over at Dad.
He’s smiling,enjoyingZane’s horror.
Zane’s voice trembles. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“Zane,” dad slips right back into his fake, parental role, “that’s no way to talk to your new sister.”
My eyes widen.
Zane turns pale.
Finn frowns. “Sister?”
“Oh, everyone’s here?” a voice exclaims behind us.
We all turn and watch a woman who shares a deep, familial resemblance to Miss Jamieson glide into the room.
She’s not the twenty-something bozo chicks dad usually goes for, but her face still holds a youthful glow. I doubt she’s a day over thirty-five.
“I’m Marian.” She extends a dark hand. It has a huge diamond ring on it.
No one takes the hand she offers.
“Why the hell is there a ring on her finger?” Zane hisses.
My eyes whip to dad’s. He wraps an arm around Marian’s shoulders and gives her temple a gentle kiss. “We got married.”
Marian grins wide. When she smiles, wrinkles bracket her eyes, showing her true age and hinting that the life she’s led hasn’t been an easy one.
Immediately, I look over at Zane.
Finn does too.
But our brother isn’t looking at us, dad, or even Marian.
He’s looking at Miss Jamieson.
She’s still standing frozen behind the table, her jaw slacking and her body trembling like she’s standing in a hurricane. The panic in her gaze screams that she’d throw herself through the window to get away from here.
“It’s a really romantic story,” Marian says, when the awkward silence thickens to the point of being unbearable. “Jarod just… he saw me in the middle of the street and came right up to me. As if he knew everything about me.”
“It was love at first sight. And when you’re this sure, why wait?”