Page 25 of Twisted Collide

My stomach plummets . . . is he alone?

I never asked, and now that seems like a very important detail.

He might have a whole family. I might have half-siblings.

I feel sick.

Bile crawls up my throat, and my hand lands on my stomach as if that can stop the ill feeling.

What will I do if he does? It’s been hard enough dealing with the fact that I had a dad I didn’t know about, but what if I have a whole damn family?

I take a step up to the front door and pause for a moment, wondering if I’ll ever be ready for this introduction. No part of me wants to knock, but I’ve already stalled long enough.

It’s time to put my big girl panties on and face whatever’s to come.

Just as I raise my hand to knock, the door swings open, and there he is.

I know it’s him right away because, like me, he has eyes the color of a tropical ocean. So blue they are almost translucent.

My mouth opens and shuts as my hands shake at my sides.

Is this how it feels when your whole life changes?

“You must be Josie? I’m Robert, your father.”

So formal. So awkward.

My hands go behind my back, and I rock on my feet, unsure of what to say or do.

“Come in,” he says, stepping aside and motioning for me to enter.

The place is even grander inside. I can’t imagine kids have ever lived here. Everything is marble and expensive. So contrary to where I grew up.

It makes me wonder if this is why Mom kept me away. Did she feel inadequate compared to this man? I surely do, and I’ve hardly spoken a word to him.

“I know this is a bit . . .” He sounds almost unsure himself.

“Overwhelming? Weird?”

He chuckles awkwardly. “We’ll go with overwhelming.” He offers me a smile, but I can’t even force one of my own.

“I know this is a lot. It is for me too,” he admits. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.”

I’m not sure how to feel about his words. Surely some warmth or happiness should envelop me, right? Wrong. I feel nothing but uncertainty and insecurity.

“Let’s take it day by day, shall we?” he says, and I nod.

That’s as much as I can offer. Because no matter how glad he is that I’m here, in twenty-two years, he’s never once came for me. And that’s something I won’t forget.

“About this job. What exactly will I be doing? Because I have to tell you, I don’t think I’ll make a very good winemaker.”

He quirks a grin. “No winemaking in your immediate future.”

“Oh, thank God,” I say with a massive breath of relief.

He cocks his head to the side. “Didn’t your mother tell you why you were coming here?”

I rock back on my heels, suddenly uncomfortable hearing him speak about my mother in any capacity. I don’t know anything about their relationship because she refused to talk about it. Asfar as I can guess, I’m the product of a one-night stand that was never going anywhere.

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