Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Luke

I was still tucking my shirt into my pants as I hurried down to the dining room. Some last-minute problems came up with the latest contract, and Ray and I had to clean up the mess before sending it back to the client. I wasn’t worried about being late to dinner. Mom would find a reason to complain even if I was right on time. But I didn’t want to leave Isla alone too long in the den of wolves. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the dining room and found a full table with Rachel tucked in beside Isla. David was on the other side of Rachel, looking bored and arrogant. Rachel and Isla were smiling and having a lively conversation about something. Mrs. Carlton and, I presumed, Mr. Carlton were seated on the other side of Isla, and Alexandria was seated across the table. There was an empty seat next to her. It was the only empty seat. My mother was up to her poisonous shenanigans.

She was also on high alert and didn’t miss my entrance. “Luke, honey, that’s your seat over there. I hope you don’t mind if I sat Isla across the way. I thought it important that she meet some other guests. I think you’ve met Alexandria.” Mom’s plastic surgeon had gotten a little overzealous with the lift this time. The woman could barely move her face, but she managed a shiny, approving smile for Alex. Alex was wearing a simple black dress with a gold and diamond choker. Her hair was swept up in a long, brunette ponytail. There was no way to deny that she was stunning, but as I sat and finished a polite hello, my gaze shot across the table to Isla. She was still deep in conversation with Rachel. Twice, they glanced my direction and then reconnected with a flurry of giggles. I could only imagine the humiliating stories Rachel was entertaining Isla with.

“Your sister is going to make a stunning bride,” Alex said.

I nodded. It was so hard for me to work up enthusiasm for a wedding that I was convinced should never take place.

“How about that S Mom gave her discreet signal and the serving staff poured in with plates of salad. They were still setting down the plates when Mom lobbed her first grenade.

“Isla, it’s Isla, right? Interesting name,” she added. “Who are your family? What businesses or corporations do they own?”

“Mom, is that any of your—” I started.

“Uh, my family? Flour … and sugar.” Isla placed her napkin on her lap and shot me an “I’ve got this” look.

“Flour and sugar?” Mom was intrigued and also a little thrown off. “King Arthur’s, General Mills?”

“Nope.” That was all Isla was giving. She picked up her fork and plunged it into the salad. All eyes were still on her as she stuck a bite full into her mouth.

Alexandria leaned her head toward me. “I like her,” was all she said.

I sent Isla a wink and picked up my fork. There were mumbled conversations between seat neighbors as we finished the salad course and moved on to soup. One of Gretchen’s specialties, garlic knots, were delivered in three linen-lined baskets. Isla’s eyes lit up as she picked not one but two knots out of the basket. Alex passed on the bread.

“You sure? Gretchen’s garlic knots are famous.”

“I’m trying to avoid carbs,” Alex said.

I glanced across the table. My gaze was heading toward Isla, but my sister interrupted it with an impish grin and a small water glass toast. I toasted back, then continued on to Isla. She was eating the garlic knot with such enthusiasm; it made me smile. She leaned over to my sister and pointed with equal enthusiasm at the second knot on her plate. I could hear my sister’s reply. “Gretchen has been our family’s chef since my grandmother, Hazel, ran the household. She’s the best.” I noticed my sister spoke much more often to Isla than to her future husband on the other side. David was busy picking salt off the garlic knot like a pouting ten-year-old.

My mom had been temporarily silenced by Isla’s confident, curt reply, but she wasn’t finished yet. “So, where does your family hail from? Where are their residences? East or West Coast? Or both, like the Carltons?” She tossed a conspiratorial smirk over to Mrs. Carlton. These two women had not just recently been discussing a match between Alex and me. It seemed they’d been in full collusion for some time.

Isla seemed reluctant to put down her garlic knot. “Whisper Cove. West Coast.” She dotted her mouth with a napkin to show my mom that she’d given out all the information needed for an appropriate answer.

Mom laughed dryly. “Whisper Cove? Sounds like the name of a soap opera.” Another dry laugh.

“We’ve driven past it,” Mrs. Carlton said with simpering smile. “Quaint little seaside town. We didn’t stop because it didn’t have much to offer.”

Isla placed the garlic knot back down. “Not much to offer? I suppose it takes a certain person to understand the extraordinary appeal of Whisper Cove.” I glanced at my sister who was staring down at her soup bowl as if it was filled with little green aliens. Her shoulders quivered as she held back a laugh.

Isla’s blue eyes glittered under the chandelier lighting. A dreamy look crossed her pretty face. “There’s a moment in the morning on the cove, just as the sun breaks in the eastern sky, when shadows sweep over the landscape and the bay, that can steal your breath. The early morning light stirs the beach peas growing on the edges of the sand. Their silky tendrils curl up to wake the plum-colored blooms. At the same time, the new day’s breeze shakes the salt-meadow rush into a choreographed dance that makes the coastline turn into liquid gold. The sunlight tickles the birds awake, and they leave their nighttime roosts. The ivory sand vibrates with the shadows of gulls and pelicans taking flight for the day.”

I glanced around the table. Every face at the table, even my dad’s, was turned in her direction, raptly listening to her description of her hometown.

“In those few magical moments, you’re transported to a place that lives only in the greatest imaginations. And don’t get me started on summer evenings on the cove.” She picked up her soup spoon and smiled sweetly at Mrs. Carlton. “Like I said—it takes a certain person to see just how much Whisper Cove has to offer.”

Alexandria snickered next to me. It seemed her mom had come from the same mold as my mom. No wonder the two women had become fast friends. It was about time someone broke that mold.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m booking my next vacation in Whisper Cove.” Rachel followed Isla’s lead and plunged her spoon into the soup. It took me a lot longer than everyone else to pull my gaze from Isla. She’d just silenced two judgy women, and she did it, not with sharp words but with poetry, literal poetry, and with a quick, sarcastic barb thrown in for good measure. I knew she was something else, and at the same time, I’d severely underestimated everything about her.