Isaac chuckles. “A math teacher. And are you especially interested in math?”
“Not particularly,” I say. “But people like to say that opposites attract.”
“Yes,” he says. “They do say that, don’t they?”
We look at each for a long beat, standing there, hidden behind the white picket gate. The late August air is warm, and yet, I feel goose bumps rise on the back of my neck.
Isaac reaches for the door handle. “Well,” he murmurs. “I think we’re doing pretty well despite it.”
Right. Because we’re not opposites. Not at all.
I’m starting to think we’re exactly alike.
12
SOPHIA
Beautifully dressed guests mill about on a wooden deck overlooking the beach below. There’s a pool house with wide-open glass doors, and inside is a bar, complete with a bartender busy mixing drinks.
And there’s an infinity pool.
It curves along the edge of the deck, and I suspect that if I were to lie down on a sun lounger, the edge of the pool would blend seamlessly into the ocean.
“This place is stunning,” I say to Isaac.
He nods. “It cost my brother an arm and a leg, but it’s worth it.”
“Should we— Oh.” I catch sight of a golden retriever with a wagging tail racing through the throng of people, a stolen shawl hanging from its jaw. “Look at that dog go.”
“Yeah, my brother and his wife have two of them. One’s an actual guide dog, and the other was supposed to be but failed his exam.”
That makes me smile. “Let me guess, the one we just saw is the school dropout?”
“Definitely.”
We head to the bar and get drinks, and then it’s on—the networking. Just like we’d done at the benefit.
But it’s even more apparent here how little Isaac Winter needs to do to work a room. Everyone wants to say hello. Everyone wants to talk to him. And he’s warmer here, different somehow, asking people about their families, their children, and their parents.
These are people the Winters have known most of their lives, I suspect. Friends of family and members of the same circle.
“This is Sophia,” he says, introducing me to everyone we talk to. The eyes that turn to me, each and every time, are curious.
I give them all a wide smile and lean into Isaac just a little.Yes, we’re together.“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Isaac handles the conversations well, includes me easily in topics, and it flows with the practiced ease of people who’ve mastered the art of small talk. We talk about the rising interest rates, the best place to summer, and how to master kite surfing—something Isaac’s apparently tried more than once. Topics flow from the latest production put on by the New York Opera to the unusual heat wave and back around—as if it’s inevitable—to the rising interest rates.
We’re halfway through the group by the pool when Isaac puts a hand on my lower back, pulling me aside. “Let me introduce you to my brother.”
“I’d like that.”
The man we approach is not someone I’ve ever met before, and yet I instantly recognize him. The family resemblance is there in the dark hair and the even darker eyes. Anthony is rougher around the edges, somehow, his face equally striking but less classically handsome. And while he’s broader across the shoulders, he’s not quite as tall as Isaac.
“Anthony,” Isaac says.
His brother turns to us. “You made it.”
“Didn’t I promise I would?”