by Jill Shalvis
Quinn promised she would and gave her a quick hug. Then she headed toward her car, pulling out her cell phone to call her boss, Chef Wade.
Chef Wade never wasted words. He answered with, “Talk.”
“I need to leave early,” Quinn said. “I’m so sorry for the short notice, but there’s … an emergency. Marcel’s here. He’s got things under control.” By being a tyrannical asshole, but that was another story.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice softening with concern, as he was a longtime friend of her parents.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she promised and hoped that was true. She disconnected and drove straight to her parents’ house.
Her mom and dad were in the living room in front of their lit gas fireplace, sharing a drink. Yes, it was 3 P.M. in April in L.A., which meant the air conditioner was on full blast, but her mom liked her alcohol with ambience.
“Darling,” her mom said, smiling as she stood in welcome. “Such a lovely surprise. Where’s Brock?”
“I’m alone.” Quinn didn’t bother to address—for the thousandth time—that she didn’t spend nearly as much time with Brock as they seemed to hope. “I met someone today.”
Her mom looked dismayed. “Other than Brock? But what will people think?”
“Mom …” Quinn pressed her fingertips into her eye sockets to ward off an eye twitch. “I keep telling you, Brock and I aren’t together like that anymore.”
“Right now you mean,” she said. “Right?”
A conversation she didn’t have the strength for. “The man I met today had an interesting story to tell me.” Her breath caught. “He said that I’m adopted.”
Twin looks of shock and guilt slid over her parents’ faces like matching masks and reality hit Quinn smack in the face. “Oh my God.” She staggered to the couch opposite them and sank to it, staring at them. “Oh my God, it’s not a story. It’s true.”
At the awkward beat of utter silence, Quinn stood back up and headed straight to the kitchen. She needed alcohol or sugar, stat. Thank Toll House, she found some ready-made cookie dough in the fridge. Her mom didn’t bake. For that matter, neither did Quinn. She loved to cook and she was good at it, but for whatever reason, baking skills eluded her.
She was stuffing spoonfuls of dough into her mouth when her parents—who were apparently not her parents at all—appeared in the doorway. It was the most disorienting thing she’d ever experienced, looking at them and realizing her life was forever changed, that the very foundation of her entire world had crumbled. “It’s day one of my new raw food diet,” she said inanely.
Her parents exchanged a concerned look. “We need to talk,” her dad said solemnly.
Little late for that …
“Honey,” her mom said earnestly. Quinn turned to her hopefully.
“If you eat that whole package, it’s the equivalent of forty-eight cookies.”
Quinn blinked. “Are you kidding me?”
Her dad sighed and leaned onto the island between them. He nudged the block of knives out of her reach and said, “We never expected you to find out.”
“Okay,” she said, absorbing that with a nod. “Wow.” She scooped up the last of the dough.
Her mom opened her mouth but nothing came out of it because Quinn jabbed a finger at her. Then she popped the last bite in, chewed, and licked her thumb before taking a deep breath. “Why?” she finally asked, suitably sugared up. “Why didn’t you just tell me? People are adopted all the time. What possible reason could you have for keeping it a secret?”
“Because I wanted you to be mine,” her mom whispered, her eyes soft and, dammit, a little damp.
Her dad slid an arm around her mom’s waist. “It wasn’t important to us how we got you,” he said. “We wanted a baby, and we couldn’t have our own.”
Quinn sucked in a breath. “Beth,” she said through a throat blocked by what felt like a regulation football. “Was she adopted too?”
Her mom shook her head. “No. We’d been trying for years before we were told we couldn’t have our own. So we set an adoption in motion. When you came along, we were so happy, just completely over the moon.” She stopped and drew a deep breath, as if reliving the joy. “But then the unbelievable happened. When you were four months old, I learned I was pregnant.” She put a hand to her chest. “I’m more grateful to Carolyn for you than you could ever know,” she said fiercely. “Because we were twice blessed. But …” She looked to Quinn’s dad.
“But,” he continued on for her, “Carolyn signed a confidentiality agreement. We could sue her for discussing the adoption. She had no right.”
“Too late,” Quinn said quietly. “She’s dead. And apparently she left me some sort of an inheritance.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” her mom said. “She had nothing of worth to speak of.”
“I was so shocked I didn’t ask for details,” Quinn said. Details Cliff had tried to give her. She hugged herself, feeling a little sick from the dough.
Or her life. “So … were you sorry you’d adopted me once Beth came along?” she asked.
“Oh my God, no.” Her mom came around the island and took Quinn’s hands in her own. “No,” she said again more firmly. “It was a happy accident. The truth is, we didn’t want to take away from either of you, so we just kept it quiet. It didn’t matter to us, and I know this is asking a lot, but I wish it wouldn’t matter to you.”
Her dad nodded his agreement on that.
But Quinn didn’t know how to make it not matter. She didn’t know what to feel, not about the adoption, the devastating betrayal, or the fact that she and Beth had never been sisters at all. She let out a breath and took a step away from them. “I need to think.”
“It doesn’t matter,” her mom said. “None of this matters.”
“Mom, how can you say that?”
“Because we love you. Maybe we were wrong to not have told you about being adopted, and I’m sorry you found out in such a shocking manner, but we’ve never thought of you as anything but a real daughter. Ever.”
This brought a huge lump to Quinn’s throat so all she could do was nod.
“Now,” her mom said, tears shimmering brilliantly in her own eyes as well as she patted Quinn on the arm. “Let’s just look forward, to you marrying Brock and getting on with your lovely life.”
Quinn closed her eyes. “I’m not getting married to Brock. And even if I wanted to, how could I?” she asked. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“Okay,” her dad said. “That seems a little dramatic.”
Quinn let out a low laugh. “You’re right. It is. And now I’m going to take my dramatic ass home. I need some time.”
“Time?” Her mom exchanged another worried look with her dad. “But you’re still coming over next weekend for dinner, right? Say Saturday night … seven o’clock? On the dot? And you’ll text me once you get here, before you come in?”
Quinn had gotten to the door. She turned around to find them standing in the same position at the island, looking shocked at her unusual temper tantrum. “Let me get this straight. You can’t keep my surprise party a secret, but you were able to keep my adoption one?”
Her mom bit her lower lip. “I don’t know what you mean about a surprise party.”
With another low, mirthless laugh, Quinn walked out. She drove home to the quiet little condo she was mortgaged to the eyeballs for and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was in shock. And adrift. And … sad. Angry too … and so much more.
It was shocking for more than one reason, not the least of which was that she felt more emotion right this minute than she’d felt in two years.
She’d meant it when she’d told Cliff that she didn’t want anything to do with any inheritance, especially not from someone who’d apparently thrown her away without so much as looking back.
Not that she was happy with her parents right now either. They should’ve told her the truth a long time ago. Inste
ad they’d hidden it and even now had tried to underplay everything, encouraging her to get on with her nice, comfortable life.
But it suddenly didn’t feel so nice or comfortable at all.
Feeling shockingly alone, she looked at her phone. She wanted to call Beth. God, how she wanted that, but instead she called Brock.
“Hey,” he said when he picked up, his voice brisk and rushed. “I’m in a meeting. Leave a message and I’ll get right back to you.”
His voice mail. Disappointment washing over her, she tried to tell herself she was fine, she didn’t need anyone. But her heart was racing and it didn’t seem to fit in her rib cage anymore. Everything felt tight and she couldn’t breathe because she had no one else left to call.
Well, except one person.
Harry Potter, aka Cliff Porter.
Lost and Found Sisters
will be available June 20th, 2017,
wherever books are sold!
LOST AND FOUND SISTERS. Copyright © 2017 by Jill Shalvis.
BOOKS BY JILL SHALVIS
LOST AND FOUND SISTERS
A Novel
Available in Paperback, E-Book, and Digital Audio
A bombshell secret and a mysterious inheritance send Quinn Weller reeling…and back to her hometown, where a world of possibilities awaits—once she decides if this new life is the one she was always meant to have.
ACCIDENTALLY ON PURPOSE
A Heartbreaker Bay Novel
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There’s no such thing as a little in love …
There’s no such thing as a little in lust …
There is such a thing as…Accidentally on Purpose
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A long road trip in a massive blizzard might be just what Max and Rory need to face their past… and one steamy, snowy night is all it takes to bring them together at last.
THE TROUBLE WITH MISTLETOE
A Heartbreaker Bay Novel
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If she has her way …
He’ll get nothing but coal in his stocking.
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SWEET LITTLE LIES
A Heartbreaker Bay Novel
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Choose the one guy you can’t have …
Fall for him—hard …
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ISBN-13: 978-1-488-0-2916-5
BACK IN THE BEDROOM
First published by Harlequin Temptation in 2004
This edition published in 2017
Copyright © 2004 by Jill Shalvis.
KISS AND MAKEUP
First published by Harlequin Blaze in 2015
This edition published in 2017
Copyright © 2015 by Taryn Leigh Taylor
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