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“I disagree. You’re magnificent.”
“Hardly.”
“You’re my ideal, Petra. I won’t apologize for that. Iwillapologize for being weird, upsetting you, and not telling you everything at the wedding.”
“How do you think that would have turned out?”
“Poorly. Which is why I withheld the information.”
Tapping my nail on the glass, I considered. “Start from the beginning. Tell me now.”
Rebecca brought our appetizers and refilled my wine. She didn’t interrupt us for our meal order. I think she could tell our conversation was serious.
Jack took a deep breath then a drink of his wine. “I was home after an assignment in Asia. I wanted to find a house I could use as a home base and Mom had some ideas.”
“Mine filled me in on her reputation as a real estate tycoon.” I wasn’t kidding.
“When my dad died, she used his life insurance money to get into it. She tripled what he left her in five years.”
“It’s how she met my mother.”
His gaze was intense. “Yes.”
“They wanted to do some matchmaking…”
“Kevin found out about you from eavesdropping on Mom’s call with Leda. I was out of the country so he got to you first.”
“Nice.”
“She wasfuriousto learn who he was dating. By the time I got back, you were on your second date.”
“I remember it painfully.”
He took a longer swig of his wine. “At first, I figured you were with him because of my mom.”
“If maybe I was looking for a paycheck marriage?” He inclined his head and I didn’t blame him for wondering.
“I started digging. The more I learned about you, the more confused I was that you were dating my idiot brother. It certainly wasn’t about money.”
I cleared my throat. “I needed a date for my ten-year high school reunion. That’s how it started. He asked me out twice before but I said no. The third time, I was vulnerable. Ineededa date.” With a shrug, I added, “My standards were low. Look decent in a suit and don’t make me look bad.”
“Kevin shared every detail of your relationship. No matter how often my mother and I told him to stop, he wouldn’t.”
Jack removed his phone and pulled up a screenshot of a text conversation with Kevin. He’d attached a photo of me at the reunion and wrote, “Looks like your type is more into your little brother.”
He shook his head. “Heneededto rub it in. To overshare.”
“What kind of details?”
“Like making him waitmonthsfor sex.” He tucked his phone back in his pocket and his expression was fierce. “When we were alone, he tried sharing more. I busted him in the mouth.”
I remembered Kevin’s bizarre explanation for the fat lip he showed up with. Something about tripping and hitting a wall.
Jack was the wall.
“It’s a little awkward having this conversation with you, Jack.”
“I imagine.”
