When it came down to it, Isabella thought her mom was a sucker for tradition. Her mother liked the romance of the courtship, proposal, and wedding. Isabella found it all to be silly. A woman could be in a meaningful, long-term relationship without tying her identity to a man’s.
Isabella finally fell asleep on the couch, the show still playing in the background. While she slept, she had a dream that instead of meeting her mom for dinner, James had prepared an elaborate surprise wedding.
She walked down the aisle in scrubs with disheveled hair to find James waiting at the altar, dressed in a tux, looking dapper as ever. She couldn’t hear the vows because her mom was screaming at her to put on a dress and look like a lady.
Then, when she signed the marriage certificate, the priest took her medical license and burned it in the unity candle. This set the whole church ablaze with Isabella trapped in the middle.
She woke up, sweaty and shivering on her couch. An infomercial for a toaster oven was blaring in the background. She grabbed her phone and crawled back into bed.
I’m not feeling well, Isabella texted James. I don’t know if I can make it tonight.
She felt clammy and had a stomach ache. Her heart was pounding and her head hurt.
What’s wrong?
I feel awful. Everything hurts.
Don’t move. I’m coming over.
Please, don’t. Just let me curl up and die here, she said dramatically.
About twenty minutes later, Isabella heard a knock at the door. With her eyes half-open, she stumbled through the hallway to answer it.
“Wow, you look terrible,” James said cheerfully.
“Thanks.”
“Go back to bed,” he ordered. “I’ll make you some tea.”
He entered the bedroom minutes later with a piping hot mug of tea. Isabella managed a small sip.
“What are your symptoms?” he asked.
Isabella rattled off her list of ailments.
“So, what is the diagnosis?” he asked.
“I’m not really in the mood for a quiz,” she groaned.
“Fine. I’d say that your symptoms are brought on by stress and anxiety.”
“Great,” she said sarcastically. “What’s my treatment?”
“I could probably prescribe you something to calm you down,” he said. “Or you can just tell me what’s bothering you.”
“It’s this stupid dinner tonight,” she said. “My mom is in my head.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” he said, curling up in bed behind her.
“There’s just too much going on. First, I haven’t seen my mom in quite a while. We’re not really close, so conversations are not a ton of fun. We just don’t have that much in common.”
“Okay,” James said, nodding. “What else?”
“Second, I’m meeting her husband for the first time. Who meets their parent’s spouse after the wedding?”
He waved his hand. “You’ve forgotten who you’re talking to.”
“Oh, right. She said it was no big deal if I missed the wedding, but I still feel guilty about it.”
“Anything else?” he pressed.
“Finally, I have the added pressure of introducing my mother to my boyfriend, something I have never done in my life.”
“Never?”
“Nope. Any past boyfriends never made it to that point.”
“Wow.” He giggled. “I feel honored.”
She gave a dramatic exhale.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t want to go,” she whined, stuffing her head into her pillow.
James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sealed package.
“I brought this just in case,” he said, unwrapping the drug sample. “Here, take it. It will make you feel better.”
“Where did you get that?” she asked.
“From the hospital, duh.” He laughed. “You don’t think I’m immune to moments of anxiety, do you?”
She took the tiny pill and washed it down with her tea.
“Perks of being a doctor,” he said.
Isabella settled her head back down on the pillow. James softly raked through her hair with his fingertips. She closed her eyes and listened to his gentle voice.
“Everything is going to be okay, Isabella. We’ll have a short dinner, and I’ll be by your side the whole time. When it’s over, we can head back to my place for a little fun.”
“What did you have in mind?” she mumbled.
“Something to make this all worthwhile.”
She smiled. When his words weren’t enough, his body never failed to cheer her up.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better,” she said. “I’m feeling pretty drowsy, though. Are you sure you didn’t give me roofies?”
“I suppose you’ll find out,” he joked. “Only kidding. Between the mild sedative and the sleepy time tea, I’d say you’re about ready for a nap. Have you eaten anything?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t have the appetite.”
Without another word, he disappeared into the kitchen. While he was away, she thought about how sweet he was to drop everything and tend to her when she was unwell. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to do the same for him, yet she wanted to repay the favor in some way.
He returned with a bowl of chicken soup and buttered toast. She ate about half of it before the warmth and comfort overtook her. Her eyelids felt like they were made of cement, and she fought to keep them open.
James kissed her on the forehead. “Go to sleep. I’ll come back over this evening to pick you up for dinner.”
“Thanks,” she slurred. “You’re too nice to me.”
He smiled, watching her slowly succumb to sleep. “I can’t help how hopelessly in love I am with you,” he said, leaving her to her slumber.
A few hours later, Isabella awoke from her nap with a foggy memory, but otherwise feeling more relaxed. She checked the time on her phone. She only had a few more hours until James would be back to pick her up. She sent him a text:
I guess I was so out of it that I didn’t even see you leave. Thanks for coming over earlier.
He replied instantly:
Really? Well, I hope you’re feeling better. I’m looking forward to having dinner with you tonight.
There wasn’t much time left in the day for studying, so Isabella vowed to herself that she would spend her entire Sunday with her head in a book. She took a warm shower, which seemed to wash the drowsy effects of the drug from her mind.
She was feeling a little nervous, but it was more like butterflies in her stomach than the sky crashing down on her. She chose a simple black dress that was elegant enough for a nice dinner with parents yet sexy enough that James would find great pleasure in taking it off later in the night. She braided her damp hair in two long plaits to dry, leaving her with waves when James showed up at the door.
“You look much better than you did this morning,” he observed.
“It didn’t take much.”
“How do you feel?” “A lot better. I’m still dreading this, and I would be perfectly fine if we decided to skip it, but I think I can make it without throwing up on myself.”
“Good,” he said. “And to tell you the truth, I’m a little nervous myself.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I’m the one who’s meeting your mother for the first time. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“Oh, I guess,” she said, forgetting that he would be having a meal with complete strangers.
“What do I need to know about your mom and stepdad?” he asked.
“My mom is probably going to ask you a lot of personal questions. That’s just how she is. If it becomes too much, kick my leg under the table, and I’ll create a diversion.”
“I don’t mind,” he said.
“Good. As for my stepfather, I know very little about him. They met while my mom was on vacation, and they got married on a beach s
omewhere. Apparently, he’s a good guy and I’ll like him.”
“Then it sounds like everything will be great,” he said. “Ready to go?”
“Wait,” she said. “There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“I guarantee that one of the uncomfortable questions that my mom is going to ask is about our relationship.”
“Yeah?”
“She’s going to want to know where we’re at in our relationship. Like, when are you going to move in together, get married, have kids, et cetera. She might even ask you about your feelings for me. I just want you to know so you aren’t in an awkward position when it inevitably happens.”
“Thanks for the heads up. I think we’ll be fine.”
They left for the restaurant. Along the way, Isabella tried to come up with any other tidbits of information to tell James about her mom. He did his best to calm her nerves, but they would both be relieved when they were in the safety of his home later.
“We’re a few minutes early,” Isabella explained to the hostess, “but my mother has made a reservation for four at seven o’clock.”
“What’s the last name?” the hostess asked.
Isabella let out a dry laugh. “Huh, I actually don’t remember what her last name is this time.”
“Well, the rest of your party hasn’t arrived yet. We could seat you, or if you want to wait by the bar, we can get you when they are here.”
“Bar,” Isabella said immediately.
James asked for a glass of ice water and Isabella ordered a double vodka tonic. She gulped it down.
“Easy,” James said. “Don’t overdo it.”
She ignored him and ordered another drink a few minutes later.
“Another double vodka tonic?” the bartender asked.
James interjected. “Make it a single, and give her a little extra tonic, please.”
The bartender had just handed her the drink when the hostess approached them.
“There you are!” she said cheerfully. “The rest of your party has just been seated. If you want to follow me, I will show you to your table.”
Isabella took a deep breath. She felt James’s hand slide into hers.
“It’s going to be fine,” he said again. “Relax. You might just have a good time.”
She nodded. “Okay, we can do this. You might not want to hold my hand, though,” she added.
“Why not?”
“My mother will love it too much.”
He let go of her hand and followed the hostess to the table.
When the pair got to the table, they froze.
“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.”
Forbidden Prescription: A Stepbrother Romance Page 9
