Tempting Isabel (Paradise South #1)

by Rissa Brahm

  And Zack returned his narrowed eyes to the old man while waiting for Amy and/or Darren to make a decision. He just watched his father’s sullen eyes shift uncomfortably under Zack’s severe stare, but not one glance up from the man’s salad. Bennet didn’t dare.

  “It’s a good idea, Amy,” Darren told her.

  She pushed her chair out, smiled graciously at Bennet, then at Zack, and lastly, she leaned over and kissed her fiancé on the cheek before standing to leave. The two men and one sniveling coward all stood as she did.

  *

  Last night was the first time Zack had told Darren any of the gory details regarding their father, along with Zack’s actual feelings about the man. And Darren relayed his regrets to his older brother—that although contacting Bennet had been a romantic and well-meaning gesture by his fiancée, he definitely saw how poorly timed this reunion was, especially during what was supposed to be such a joyous occasion. Zack and Darren, at the end of their late night talk, had finally put it all to what Zack called “a comedy of errors.” Thank you, Isabel.

  But right then, the comedy was anything but funny.

  The waiter and a runner brought entrees, and three plates were placed. Zack now remembered telling the waiter to skip him earlier when their orders had been taken. So now, with his gut twisting from black espresso gasoline and rage, he signaled to his brother to give him Amy’s plate, a pasta dish in some kind of cream sauce, to soak up the acid-hate eating him alive.

  “I need the trust back,” Bennet blurted out, staring down at his thick prime rib.

  “Dad, things take time. Trust has to be built…you know? Earned. Hell, you’ve been gone for how many—”

  “No, Darren,” Zack cut his brother off, “that isn’t the trust he means. He’s saying he needs the money…the trust fund. The one he left us, when he…left us.”

  Darren looked in awe at Zack, then at his father. As the reality dawned, Zack watched the innocence drain from his brother’s face, only to be replaced with hot red disdain. Darren’s nature was kind, gentle, calm and light, but even his brother had his limits. And now Zack could tell that those limits were just about met. Zack put his hand on Darren’s shoulder to steady him.

  “Who flew you out here, Bennet?” Zack asked, taking over.

  “Amy…well, her father,” Bennet answered, still unable to make eye contact, the shame written on his face was Zack’s exact intent. They all froze and remained that way for what felt like an eternity.

  A birthday serenade from across the restaurant brought Zack back. He glanced at his cell phone. Only a minute had passed.

  God, his mouth was dry, his chest still heaving. He took a sip of water, moistened his lips, and took a huge clearing breath through his nose.

  Composed now, he found words. “I’ve already given you enough, having paid way above market for your property portfolio. Now, as for the trust that you so generously left us, Bennet, it is in Darren’s name, solely Darren’s. I relinquished rights to it the day after you left. He’s the one you will have to consult. So”—Zack began to push his chair back to get the hell out of there—“I’m not needed here.”

  Darren looked at his brother with wide, desperate eyes, begging Zack not to leave him there alone.

  Zack leaned back instead of standing and began rubbing his temples. He looked at Darren again, his brother was practically shaking with rage.

  Fuck. Zack cleared his throat. “Darren, you just finished your master’s program the head of your class. A year and a half early I might add. You’re a sought-after architect, and that’s all you. One hundred percent you, brother. Yes, your education was, as you know, paid for by me…but the work, the time, the sacrifice—it was all your effort and no one else’s. And I’ve never made a better, more sound investment than the one I’ve made in you and your education. The least risk, highest reward of any I’ve ever made. And the only repayment I ask for is your happiness. And for your family to be happy, your wife and your future kids. That’s it.” He swallowed hard, and did not dare look at his brother, who he knew had tears falling from his furious eyes already.

  Zack went on. “Now, the trust fund that Bennet is referring to, in fact, has remained untapped since he vanished. There was never a need. The business, my own real estate investments, the projects I slaved over, all yielded well. Very well. And they have supported you, Mom and me for all these years. I can say with all sincerity that I would have rather died than use a penny of Bennet’s guilt money, but…if you or Mom had ever needed it to survive and I couldn’t provide, then I was prepared to use it. I swear I would have swallowed my pride and used it.”

  Zack paused and glanced at Bennet. His father shifted uneasily in his seat. Zack caught what seemed to be a proud look in the old man’s eyes just before Bennet shot his gaze down at his own trembling hands. Did Bennet James dare to feel pride in Zack? If that was the case, Bennett had to know, the man had no fucking right. That Zack wasn’t his to be proud of. Bennet had relinquished his fatherly privileges when he’d traded his own flesh and blood for lust, greed, and the other seven fucking deadly sins.

  His focus back on Darren, Zack continued. “I respect you, brother. And I trust you. If you see the trust fund as a necessary evil for you and your soon-to-be wife, for your future family, and your future home, then I tell you to use it. Use it to the fucking glory. No one deserves it more than you do…and I wouldn’t judge you at all. In fact, I’d applaud you for thinking of the larger picture, the highest priority of all…your family.” Zack paused to drive the last part home to Bennet.

  His brother said nothing and just shook his head slowly, as if logic and clarity would come of it. Zack wished to hell it was that simple.

  “Darren, hey, at least we know that we’re a different sort of men, you and I––nothing like…him.”

  Then Zack looked down, squinting from a sudden headache that spread throughout his entire skull. That last sentence, the very last words he’d spoken—a different sort of men…nothing like…him—they lit a fuse in him and tasted sour on his already parched tongue. He took another sip of water and abruptly pushed his chair back. “But if you choose to return the trust money to this man, then so be it. You are brilliant at your career, and you will always succeed, no matter what.” He kissed his brother on the forehead, pulled out a hundred spot for the table, and headed for the exit.

  “Son…Zachary! Wait!” Bennet yelled. But Zack wasn’t slowing his stride.

  *

  Bennet made it to him before Zack reached his car.

  “You need to understand,” the man said, panting, holding Zack’s elbow to keep him there and for support, it seemed. The man’s fragility was extreme. “We struggled, Son…financially, it was really hard! I mean, before you were born. And when we found out Elaine was pregnant with you, we were hardly making ends meet.”

  “The point? Get to it, fast.”

  “Well, when you did come, it was as if the world flipped on its axis, one-eighty! It was immediate! I landed a job, finally, after nothing for two long years! Then a promotion, practically a fluke. We were ambushed with good fortune, and one doesn’t know how to, you know, handle it when you’re so unaccustomed to such wealth, so much power! And all that comes with it.”

  “Feeling pretty bad for you right now, Bennet.” Was his father putting his disappearance from their lives on some frou-frou astrological fortune cookie bullshit? For the entertainment alone he had to hear Bennet out, but he assertively removed the man’s hand from his arm and dusted off his shirtsleeve from where the man’s fingerprints lingered.

  “I fell in deep. I was never home, and I was never really there when I was home, except in Vallarta, where there was almost no escape.”

  “Even then, Bennet…yes, you spent the days with us, but I knew you were out most nights, I mean, come on.”

  “Yes. It’s true. It’s true.” The man paused in thought, eyes squinting shut as if that would erase history. He kept them shut tight as he continued. �
��Your mother got pregnant again with your brother to try to regain my attentions. But the man she’d fallen in love with when we both had nothing, he was long gone.” His eyes opened then to meet Zack’s glare. “I couldn’t resist the temptations. And at the time, honestly, I didn’t want to. But as soon as I left you boys, and your mother, everything started to fall apart; I lost everything, like there was another flip of the axis! Then, I saw the light—”

  “The light, huh? But you still stayed away?”

  “I couldn’t come back. I was too…too ashamed.”

  “But here you are now.” Zack’s throbbing headache jumped to the next level and the world around him spun, with Isabel’s words punching him in the center of his forehead once every turn. “Not the kind of man you are. Not the kind of man you helped Darren become.” Her words burned guilt-riddled truth into his heart.

  The kind of man I am? What kind of man is Zachary James? The kind who wanted to attack his father, rip him apart for throwing a seventeen-year-old kid into the desperate position of head of household? But even with such a responsibility dumped in his lap, he’d gone out and made his own fortune. That was a kind of a man to be proud of, right?

  And who else was Zack James? Well, he wasn’t the kind of man who’d committed to a wife and children and then left them cold for other women, more power, and lavish extravagance. In fact, Zack had prevented it from happening at all by always avoiding commitment. At all costs.

  Until Isabel.

  And the head spinning stopped.

  *

  Zack felt himself caught. Had he let the fear of becoming his father mold him into the man he despised? Into Bennet James? If he was to be honest with himself…yes, that was exactly who he’d become.

  During Zack’s mental monologue, his father just stood there, staring. “Zack. I am sorry. You must think I’m just pathetic. And I am. My actions then and now are of a pathetic, sad man. I can’t expect you to forgive or ever forget. But whatever happens, if being out of your life for all this time has helped you become the man you are today, then, for that alone, I have no regrets. You are what I prayed you’d be.”

  Zack stared at and through his father, then he whispered, “Comedy of errors…”

  With nothing left to say or hear, Zack felt something dark draining from his heart. It was quickly replaced by a rushing wave of the apathy Isabel had promised. And of calm, like the ocean-sized puddle that had attacked him on the first night he’d met Isabel. A washing, cleansing wave.

  He held out his hand to his father. They shook. Then he left Bennet standing there. Done.

  CHAPTER 28

  He needed to talk to Isabel.

  Fuck it. Zack lifted his hips off the seat to gain access to his phone, then pressed his favorites button set for Amy.

  “Yes, everything is, or will be, fine. Darren is still in there…Of course, you know him. No worries, Ame. He shouldn’t be long. But hey, listen. I need the wedding planner’s cell number… Because, well, I need to thank her. Last night, our talk, it helped a lot, that’s all.”

  *

  Meet me, again? Same place. Done with father.

  Isabel read the text from the unknown number. She put her second earring on and wrote back: Twenty Minutes. La Vaca.

  She ignored the conflicted thrill spiking her heart rate and the screaming protest ringing in her head.

  *

  When she got there, Zack had already gotten bowls of mint chocolate chip at their table, melting in Vallarta’s early afternoon heat.

  “What if I had wanted something different?” She smiled. But he didn’t smile back. He was distracted and serious.

  “It went well. And, damn you, Isabel, you drilled into my head so deep that I am seeing so clearly it hurts. I fucked up once, and I’m not going to let it happen again.” He zeroed in on her like it was the end of the world and they were slated to be the only survivors.

  “Let what happen? Zack, what are you talking about, exactly? You said it went well?”

  “Yes. I forgave him, well, in my own way. He was…I mean, he is here for himself, for money, but who the fuck cares, right? Darren will make his decision whether or not to help the bastard, but, I…I feel nothing toward the man. Empty. And”—he grabbed her hand—“I discovered something else.”

  Isabel tried to pull her hand back from his, but he softly yet firmly kept it in his grasp.

  “I am my father. Or I was my father.” He halted there to sigh, then scooped a fast bite of ice cream into his mouth.

  Mmmm, that mouth. But, God, he was acting so intense and emphatic and determined and manic all mixed together in a regrettably irresistible package.

  “But I thankfully realize this now. It isn’t too late. And I have a chance to change. Because of you, Isabel.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “For you.”

  “Whoa there, Zack. Just…wait a minute here.” Her suddenly clammy hand in his grip was beginning to lose circulation. He couldn’t be falling for her. What the hell had she done?

  “Look, you can’t say I haven’t gotten into your head like you’ve gotten into mine, Isabel.”

  She blinked her eyes deliberately to be sure she could believe where this conversation had just turned. “Zack. I don’t deny…having thought about you. Or even, admitting that we…you know…click. I mean, even beyond the…mutual attraction.” Her cheeks got hot. “But the reality is, we live in two completely different worlds,” she said, knowing she’d need a stronger argument than that. So much stronger.

  “Let me just spend time with you, as much as I can. I mean, after the wedding. Let’s just see where things go with us.”

  “In the day or two before your flight back to wherever you actually live?” She was completely thrown off guard by his entire proposition. She knew he liked her, she knew this went beyond his potential sweet talk, but his urgency was just too much. She didn’t expect him to be so hard to shake. She’d been counting on the whole ‘out of sight, out of mind’ thing, but what if she couldn’t get him out of sight to kick him the hell out of her mind?

  She could only stare while Zack went on. “That’s the thing. I don’t damn live anywhere! My jet, a whirlwind of hotels with faceless people and deals and luxuries I don’t care about. The life I’ve led so far has literally been my fucking father’s. Now that’s comic, isn’t it? Just goddamn hilarious, really,” he said, almost to himself, ending with another hefty spoonful of melting ice cream.

  So he was his father, and now he wanted to prove he could be just the opposite of him by using her? Now that was comic and as good of an excuse as any to tell him to screw off, right?

  And she needed all the reasonable excuses she could come up with for not giving her and Zack James a chance. Because although she wished she didn’t care so much about what he thought or how he saw her, she did. The fear of him taking her as a total nut job or discovering the walking curse that she was and being deathly scared of her was a lose-lose she couldn’t even bear to think about. She’d rather he leave Vallarta enamored, and be able to hold onto the memory of his sweet, desirous eyes that melted her icy, numb heart and spun her around dizzy.

  “Thanks but I’d rather not be used, Zack. Find another way to prove that you’re not your dad.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. And I told you my feelings toward you as soon as I found you at the bar after searching the whole damn town for you, Isabel! I was almost too vocal. My feelings had, and still have, nothing to do with my father. Falling for you just happened, and I can’t hold them back. I can’t not see this through with you.”

  He stared at her as if trying to make out what she was feeling, thinking, planning.

  But she said nothing, at a complete loss for words.

  “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage or anything. I wouldn’t be that damn bold. Hell, I expect you’d vanish again if I ever went there.” He looked down at his bowl. “Believe me, I’m no expert at this relationship thing either, so we’re the blind leading the stunnin
gly beautiful blind here,” he said, looking back up at her.

  So he thinks I am just scared of relationships…? God, it’s so much deeper than that.

  “This feels so right, Isabel. And I want to just try…us. I can’t bear the level of regret if we don’t at least try.” His steady stare was killing her, convincing her, scaring her.

  Silent beats ticked by.

  She watched his Adam’s apple lift and drop again, maybe preparing more words. How to stop his horribly delicious words? Her hand still trapped in his, there was no apparent way.

  “I’ve been planning on consolidating my property holdings and really making my move to Vallarta. That’s why I was here so far ahead of the wedding, to close on my father’s condo just outside of town, the one we’d stay in every year when we were growing up. That’s been my end game all along. I can move here sooner, and nothing would be on your shoulders, Isabel. No pressure…”

  No pressure? More like all the pressure in the world! Think fast, Isabel.

  “Well, good because I should tell you now that I might be moving to Cabo to open a Golden Rings satellite for Lucinda, my own branch,” she half lied. Lucinda had mentioned it in passing. Really a pipe dream, though. But it was all she could think to say to stop this insanity. “That is, if I make it through this event!” she ended, narrowing her eyes at him in warning, just short of saying, “Keep the hell back so I can make it through this wedding!”

  “If things—if we—work out, then we…you know…work things out! Life happens, right? We would go with it! I’d move.”

  “You’d move to Cabo, even with your precious condo here, and your love for Vallarta?”

  She saw a flare of frustration in his face. He was obviously getting fed up with her push back and excuses. He leaned in, lips pursed, but trying hard to control himself. “There is always a chance for relocation when dealing with work, Isabel.” He took a breath. “Again, we’d work it out.” His voice was mellow, but his furrowed brow gave him away. He wasn’t backing down easily.