Iain and Jane had brought a large Mercedes, and they drove Shane and Ginger.

Shane shook his head at the atrocious traffic. “Are we going to make it to the restaurant before it closes?”

“They’ll wait for Mark. He’s the boss,” Iain said. He glanced at Shane in the rearview mirror. “So. I heard from Vanessa you don’t remember much.”

“Yeah. Some kind of head injury. But things are starting to come back.”

“That’s good.”

“So where’s Dad? Too busy to join us?”

Jane cleared her throat, and Iain said, “He’s probably not coming. Things are sort of awkward between him and Ceinlys. You heard about the divorce, right?”

“I remember some gossip rags mentioning it. So it’s true?”

“Oh yeah. She got one of the best lawyers in the state. She might even get something out of it, too.” When Shane frowned, Iain added, “Don’t you remember the prenup—the reason why she stayed with Dad for so long? She gets nothing if they divorce.”

“What if he divorces her?”

“Doesn’t matter. Still nothing for Mom.”

Shane recalled the nasty flashback. Why hadn’t Salazar divorced Ceinlys?

“Then there’s the whole thing with Vanessa.”

“What about her?” Shane asked. “Is she divorcing somebody too?”

Jane choked, and Iain laughed dryly. “No, she just got married. But…” He glanced briefly at Ginger.

“You can say it,” Shane spat. Why the hell was Iain acting like Ginger didn’t belong there? They’d been together longer than Iain and Jane. Shane was sure of it.

Iain sighed. “All right. It turned out she’s not Dad’s child.”

Ginger put a hand over her mouth. Shane squeezed the other one. “What the hell?” he said. “When did he find out?”

“He’s always known.”

“Why didn’t he say something?” Salazar had always made it clear to Shane he didn’t want more kids after Mark.

“You know dad. He said it didn’t matter if there was ‘an extra mouth’ to feed.”

Shane shook his head. What a dickhead thing to say, yet not that surprising given that it was his dad. “Did Vanessa know all along too?”

“No. She found out while she was pregnant. Talk about a nasty shock.”

Shane cursed.

“But she’s still our sister.”

Jane who’d been quiet all along turned around to face Shane. “It’ll mean a lot to her if you acted like nothing’s changed.”

“Of course,” Shane said. Vanessa had cried like he was everything in the world to her. He wasn’t going to look at her funny because she was a half-sister. She was lucky her dad wasn’t some screw-up like Salazar…then again, maybe he was. “So who’s her real dad?”

Iain grimaced. “Just some guy Mom had an affair with. He’s dead though, and Justin—Vanessa’s husband—isn’t too enthusiastic about getting close to her half-sister.”

“Why not?”

“Money. Justin has enough to fund a medium-sized war, and he’s a little leery of relatives no one knew existed popping up, especially when the relative says she needs financial help.”

Made sense. Shane would’ve felt the same way if Ginger suddenly acquired a lot of long-lost cousins with money trouble. A lot of people’s attitudes changed when they learned you had money. He’d experienced that himself after the accident, and it’d left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Okay, finally. Here we are,” Iain said.

Crisply dressed valets came over to open doors for everyone. One of them handed a ticket to Iain before taking the car away with an alacrity that felt foreign to Shane. Nobody moved that fast in the countries he’d been staying in.

Shane looked at the two-story building in front of him. The exterior was smooth white marble, with tinted, roving floodlights that produced swirls of color. The effect reminded him of weddings and, oddly, an aurora he’d seen on a BBC documentary a few months back. Swoopy letters spelled Éternité.

He took Ginger’s hand. “Nice.”

“French meets Japanese…or something like that,” Iain said as they walked inside. “I’m a food pleb.”

Jane poked him with her elbow. “Didn’t you claim you were a discerning food critic when you were praising my braised lamb with mint sauce?”

“That was different. I know lamb. I doubt André is serving lamb in there.”

“You never know. It might be the seasonal special.” She turned to Shane and Ginger. “André started that recently to experiment and serve stuff that’s not on the regular menu. It’s been really popular so far.”

A maître d’ in a tux greeted them. “Your table’s ready.” He gestured, and a slim blonde in a black and white dress came out. The smile she directed at Iain and Jane was warm, but the one at Shane was inviting.

He merely put an arm around Ginger’s shoulders.

“This way, please,” the blonde said smoothly, leading them through the hall in the back.

The place was packed with people dressed like they were in competition for the “world’s most fashionable” title. Some of them had tried so hard, they ended up in the weirdest stuff Shane had ever seen…but it was probably considered avant-garde or some crap like that.

They climbed the stairs to the upper level. At the end of the hall was a spacious private room decorated with European and Asian antiques. “Nice,” Shane said, looking around. “Very chic.”

“Thanks,” Mark said, coming in with Hilary. Vanessa arrived with Ceinlys—they’d shared Ceinlys’s car—and everyone settled down at the round table. A few minutes later a tall man in a dark suit came in, his movements purposeful and dynamic. The first thing he did was to go to Vanessa and kiss her on the mouth. “How have you been?”

“Good,” she said with a smile as he took a seat next to her. “Shane, my husband Justin. You remember him?”

Shane shook his head. “Sorry. It seems unfair that you guys all know everything about me, but I don’t know anything about you.”

“That’s not true,” Hilary said, opening the wine menu. “I know nothing about you.”

“Me either,” Jane said.

“Is Dane coming?” Mark asked.

“I invited him,” Ceinlys said.

There were various winces and scowls around the table.

“He’s family too,” Ceinlys said.

“Yeah, familia non grata.”

Ceinlys gasped. “Vanessa!”

Justin squeezed her shoulder, but Vanessa crossed her arms. “I told you I wasn’t happy with him.”

“He brought Shane home,” Ceinlys said.

“Ginger brought me home,” Shane corrected.

Vanessa looked at a spot between him and Ginger. “See?”

“Why don’t we order?” Mark said loudly.

Hilary pushed a basket of bread toward Vanessa. “Try the rolls. They’re really buttery. Just the way you like them.”

Vanessa didn’t move, and Justin plucked one and put it on her plate. Tension radiated from Ginger, and Shane glared at his family. What the hell was wrong with them?

“Can we play a game?” he said. “Anybody who says anything mean has to go downstairs and sing ‘Oppa Gangnam Style’ and do that weird horsey dance in front of the diners. I’m sure it’ll make a great Facebook post, complete with video.”

“Shane!” Ceinlys exclaimed.

He raised a hand. “I’m not finished, Mom.” He turned to everyone else. “I didn’t come home to be bombarded with tension the minute I meet and have a meal with my family for the first time in a year.”

Ceinlys, Iain and Mark looked at Vanessa. Jane and Hilary suddenly developed a fascination with the silverware.

Finally, Vanessa sighed. “Sorry, Shane. I’m just so worried for you.” She stole a quick glance at Ginger, then looked at him again. “I’ll try to be gracious.”

Shane pretended like he was considering it, then turned to Justin. “Think she can pull it off?”

“Oh, yes,” Justin answered with mock gravity. “I wouldn’t have married her otherwise.”

Their waiter came in to explain the seasonal specials. Shane took the opportunity to lean over to Ginger. “You all right?” he asked in a low voice.

“Fine. Thanks.” She gave him a small smile. “That was very…commanding of you.”