by Gemma Weir
When I started this thing with Tallulah, it was to prove a point, to make sure everyone knew I was never going to marry Carrigan Archibald. Tallulah was just a convenient, albeit unaware, accomplice. But now I don’t know what my aim is anymore.
Common sense should be telling me to stop this, but I’m a runaway train, a boulder racing downhill, gaining momentum on a collision course, skirting with disaster. But fuck if I’m not going to do it anyway.
“Arlo, darling, can I get you a drink?” Mrs. Archibald purrs, her hand on my arm, her fingers stroking up and down the fabric of my uniform blazer.
“Actually, a coffee would be wonderful, thank you.”
“Of course, why don’t you come on into the living room? Carrigan is just getting changed but she’ll be down shortly, I know she’s looking forward to speaking with you.”
I nod coldly, then glance over my shoulder at Tally’s retreating back as she climbs the stairs. “Let me just go and put Tallulah’s dress in the car.”
Mrs. Archibald’s eyes drop to the bags that are still clutched tightly in my hands and I see her lips part when she sees the Van De Burg logo on the side. “Are those…?” she trails off, reaching for the bags.
“Tallulah’s dress and accessories for tonight, yes,” I confirm a little smugly.
“But that’s the Van De Burg logo.”
“I know. Fitzy is an old friend, and when I realized Tallulah didn’t have anything suitable to wear tonight, I took her to his offices. He took one look at her and gifted her this outfit with a promise to send more things in the next couple of days.”
“Fitzwilliam Van De Burg has agreed to dress Tallulah?” Mrs. Archibald says slowly, like she can barely understand the words she’s saying.
“Yes,” I reply simply, turning and heading to the door. Striding to my car, I hang her dress in the back and place the other bag on the floor in the rear footwell, then I reluctantly return to the house where Mrs. Archibald is waiting for me.
I cringe when she hooks her arm through mine and leads me toward the living room. This woman is a leech. I don’t know much about her background before she married Freddie, but if I had to guess I’d say she married up, because everything about her screams gold-digger.
The thing people don’t realize about the wealthy, is that no matter how much money you have, you can always have more, and there’s really no such thing as having too much money. Even the lowliest student at our school is still a multi-millionaire, but with money comes power and with old money comes prestige.
What’s better than being rich?
Being rich, powerful, and prestigious.
Mrs. Archibald is prattling on, but honestly, I’m not listening. The door swings open and Carrigan saunters in wearing a dress that’s so tight it leaves nothing to the imagination, and I’m amazed by how unsurprised I am. As if on cue, Mrs. Archibald leaves the room on the pretense of ordering our drinks, leaving Carrigan and I alone.
She looks up at me from beneath long dark eyelashes and smiles coyly. “What you did today was cruel,” she pouts, moving slowly toward me.
“How so?” I ask, my voice monotone and disinterested as I lean back in the chair and cross my legs at the ankle.
“I know you did it to hurt me. We should never have let my sister go to that dinner in my place, it was wrong of us, but she insisted, and she can be so persuasive.”
Keeping my expression blank, I watch as she lies so easily to my face and I wonder how I could ever have thought that Tally was Carrigan. They might look the same, but everything about the twins is polar opposite.
My skin actually starts to crawl as she spreads her legs and moves to straddle me. Reaching out, I grip her arms tightly, stopping her from getting any closer.
“What’s the matter?” she asks seductively. “I know you asked for a peek at what you’d be getting if you agreed to the engagement. The will says I have to be a virgin, but there are still plenty of things we can do while keeping my virginity intact. I want you, Arlo. I always have. Let me show you how good it would be.”
Silently, I look at her, wondering if this was her idea, or her mother’s. Hell, it might even have been her father’s. Either way it’s repulsive. Pushing her back, I keep her at arms-length from me and look up into her beautiful face, waiting until her focus is entirely on me. “Carrigan, you’re behaving like a common whore, go and put some clothes on.”
She pales, lurching back from me as though I struck her. Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush as she turns and rushes from the room, leaving nothing but the awful lingering stench of her perfume behind her.
Grimacing, I inhale sharply. To some guys a beautiful girl basically offering herself on a platter would be a dream come true, but every time I have to deal with Carrigan I’m left feeling dirty and a little disgusted.
Harold Archibald the third was ninety-six when he died. The man was a genius, a true aficionado in making money and building an empire; so much so that colleges use his business empire as a case study.
I wonder if he’s turning in his grave at the descendants he left behind. His son—Tallulah and Carrigan’s grandfather—accomplished nothing more than enjoying his father’s success and Freddie Archibald followed in his own father’s footsteps. Perhaps it makes sense that Harold would leave the future of his legacy to the next generation, but it’s the rules and restrictions he’s put in place that has soured and rotted his heir.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when Tallulah walks into the room, a small overnight bag clutched in her hands. A smile spreads across my lips as I take in what she’s wearing. A simple white t-shirt, denim shorts that show off her long legs, and black Chuck Taylor’s. I can’t help the chuckle that falls from my lips when I consider how hard Carrigan had to try to be sexy, when her sister could do it without any effort at all.
My body moves without thought, and I’m out of my chair and taking the bag from her fingers so I can capture them in mine a moment later. “Do you have everything you need?”
She nods silently, her eyes a little somber.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, squeezing her hand lightly as she lets me tow her back to my car.
She comes with me so easily, so trusting, so oblivious that I’m about to royally fuck her over.
Brushing my hands down the front of my dress for the hundredth time in the last five minutes, I examine my reflection in the full-length mirror before me. When we got to the Lexington’s mansion, Arlo got me a drink, then led me up to a gorgeous suite and told me to relax and get ready. That was an hour-and-a-half ago and now I’m showered, dressed and ready to go.
The person staring back at me in the mirror is both achingly familiar and a total stranger. To me, even though Carrigan and I are identical, we look different. Maybe that’s Freud’s fuck up and my sense of self has somehow made me feel like me being me makes me a complete individual despite us having the same external appearance.
But as I stand here looking at my reflection, all I see is me and it’s both freeing and terrifying. I just don’t seem to be able to look away.
The dress Fitzy picked is so beautiful I don’t feel worthy to wear it. The skirt swishes just above my knee and the front plunges low between my breasts, but is made modest by the embroidered lace overlay and sleeves.
Instead of the poker straight style my sister chooses to wear, I’ve styled my hair in soft waves that frame my face and soften my angular cheekbones. My makeup is minimal, except for my bright red lips that pop vividly against the color of my dress and the white blonde of my hair.
I feel beautiful, and I don’t ever want to leave the bubble of this room, but I suppose this dress and the way I feel will act as armor while Arlo tells everyone that this whole day has been a clusterfuck of his creation.
A knock at the door shatters my fortress of solitude and I swallow back the urge to ignore whoever is on the other side. Reluctantly, I turn away from the mirror and cross the space to the door, pulling it open.
“Wow,�
� Arlo says breathily, his eyes raking over my body from my head to my toes.
“Do I look okay?”
“You look beautiful, Tally,” Arlo says, his voice low and rough.
“Thank you,” I say, offering him a smile.
Instead of smiling back, he inhales sharply and offers me his arm; his expression almost a little regretful. “Shall we?”
“Or you could go and I could stay up here,” I say hopefully.
He shakes his head slowly. “You look too beautiful to stay hidden tonight, little ghost.”
Reluctantly, I sigh, nodding slowly as I take his arm and let him escort me down the winding staircase and into the awful white living room we sat in when I was here on Friday night. Several sets of eyes turn to watch us as we enter the room and I balk at all the strangers staring at me. The only familiar faces are those of my own family, all of which are pointedly ignoring us.
“For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure before, let me present Miss Tallulah Archibald,” Arlo announces.
Mr. Lexington separates himself from a group of people and walks over to us. His eyes sparkle a little when he sees me and he laughs lightly. “I really thought Arlo was joking when he said that Carrigan had a twin, but here you are. You two really are identical, aren’t you?” he muses, lifting my hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Lexington,” I say quietly, uncomfortable with all of the scrutiny I can feel from the others in the room.
“Call me, Richard, especially now,” Mr. Lexington says cryptically.
My brow furrows, ‘especially now’ what could he mean by that? Does he mean especially now that his son caused a scene at mine and my sister’s expense, or especially now that he knows I exist.
Three more familiar faces move forward from the back of the room and I recognize Arlo’s friends. “Hello again, Tallulah,” Oliver, the only one whose name I can remember says. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Oliver,” I say, a slight blush coloring my cheeks.
“Olly, not Oliver remember? Only my mom uses my full name and with you looking the way you do I don’t want to think about my bloody mother,” he says and laughs that addictive, childlike laugh.
“Let’s go and get a drink,” the blond-haired boy says, reaching for my free arm.
“You can’t steal her just yet, Wats. I need to say a few words first,” Arlo says, smoothly pulling me closer to him, and wrapping his arm around my back, holding me to his side.
“Ladies and gentlemen, could I have your attention for just a moment please,” Arlo says, his voice clear and loud enough to be heard over the chatter in the room.
All eyes fall to us and everyone turns to face where we’re stood just in front of the doorway.
“I’m sure by now all of you will have heard what happened this morning at school,” Arlo starts.
I cringe, wishing he would let me go, so I could slink to the back of the room while he announces to everyone that his proposal was just an elaborate prank. But his grip keeps me firmly in place.
“Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of settings, but today I asked this beautiful woman to be my wife.”
Closing my eyes, I exhale slowly, willing the humiliation to be over.
“And I’m delighted to tell you that she said yes,” Arlo declares.
My eyes crash open and I twist my head to look at him. He releases his grip on my shoulders to grab my hand as he drops to one knee in front of me. “Sweet Tally, you have made me the happiest man in the world and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he gushes, a sly smile plastered across his lips as he slides an enormous diamond ring onto my finger.
I open my mouth to speak, to shout at him and call him out for perpetuating this ridiculous charade, but before I get a chance, he’s upright, his hand cupping my cheek as he kisses me.
I’d like to say that I push him off, that I bite his lip or knee him in the junk and expose this cruel joke for what it is. But that’s not what I do. The moment his lips press against mine, I open and let him kiss me like this is all real and we’re actually a couple. I enjoy the sweet surrender and let him own me as his tongue invades my mouth, his fingers fisting my hair and holding me in place.
A minute, an hour, a lifetime? Eternity could have passed as he devours my mouth like our future is so solidly set in stone that nothing and no one could affect us. When he slowly pulls away, I don’t open my eyes, not ready for reality to set in, not ready for this to all be a joke; a cruel, mean joke.
His fingertips stroke over my cheek and his lips whisper against mine. “I’m sorry.”
A sad sigh falls from my parted lips, and the sound seems to say a thousand things all at once. When he moves away, I feel the loss of him, even though this is all make believe.
I expect him to release me, but instead he pulls me close, his thumb rubbing over the huge diamond ring on my finger that feels like a noose around my throat. Opening my eyes, the real world assaults me, as the strangers in the room all surge toward us with words of shocked, confused congratulations, but I’m invisible.
Every eye seems to look through me and once again I’m the ghost that Arlo said I was.
I honestly don’t know why I’m doing this. I’m perpetuating a lie for no reason other than for my own amusement and because I can. The look on Carrigan and her parents’ faces is priceless, but the triumph I should be feeling right now is overshadowed by the strange sensation that’s filling my stomach, as I rub my thumb over the Lexington diamond that’s now sat on Tally’s finger.
This ring is a family heirloom, not a trinket to be trifled with. My dad never gave it to my mom even though she so desperately wanted it, yet here I am giving it to a complete stranger as part of a game. This ring is supposed to be for the one great love of my life. That’s why my dad never gave it to my mom despite them being married for fifteen years. He knew she wasn’t ‘the one’ and I think deep down she knew it too.
My dick’s hard beneath my suit pants and I reach down and adjust myself. That kiss, that fucking kiss, was submission and desire and lust and revenge all rolled into one and it was singlehandedly the hottest sexual experience of my life so far and it was only a kiss.
When she opened the bedroom door earlier, I almost pushed her back inside the room unwilling to play this stupid game when I could be losing myself in my little ghost’s body. Her hair is almost white, a color that’s so stark and ethereal that when it’s straight like both Carrigan and Tally usually wear it, it seems harsh. Tonight, it’s a mass of loose waves and I want to tangle my fingers in it and drag her lips back to mine so I can taste her again.
Tomorrow I’m going to fucking kill Fitzy for giving her the dress she’s wearing. It’s modest and fitted but not overly tight, yet somehow the fact it hints at so much and reveals nothing is sexier than I actually thought possible.
Cries of congratulations, mixed with shock and confusion fill the room, but I’m drowning in her as she slowly opens her eyes and reveals those strange violet irises that hint so much at her secrets and pain.
This is all a game, but somehow not, and as I turn to address the people I brought here to witness this, I don’t feel as triumphant as I should.
“Congratulations, son,” Dad says, clapping me on the arm, before he pulls Tally in for a one arm hug because I refuse to let go of her hand.
“Thanks, Dad, and thanks for getting the ring for me. I appreciate it.”
“Of course,” Dad says as he steps back so the next person can move forward to congratulate us.
The incredulous looks of shock on my guest’s faces makes me want to grin, but I hold back my amusement and instead turn all my smiles to the angry and confused little ghost at my side. She’s tense and where I refuse to release her hand, she’s trying to pierce a hole in my fingers with her sharp fingernails, but she can do her worst because I don’t plan on letting go anytime soon.
This need to keep h
er close to me, to stop her from telling anyone that this is all a lie is strange, but I just know that I need to force her to play along. I started this to fuck with Carrigan and prove a point and although both of those things are still relevant, whatever this is now is about more than just some childish revenge.
Watson’s parents and his younger sister all offer us congratulations, then he steps up, reaching forward and pulling me in for a tight hug. “What the hell are you doing?” He asks quietly.
“I have no fucking clue, but I know I don’t want to stop,” I murmur so quietly that I know only he and I can hear.
Releasing me, he flashes me an indulgent, amused smile and laughs lightly beneath his breath. “Well congratulations. Engaged at eighteen, how very old money of you both,” he says as he leans in and presses a kiss to Tallulah’s cheek.
Mr. and Mrs. Archibald step up to us next and I instinctively pull Tally into my arms and press a reassuring kiss to the top of her head.
“Arlo, would you like to explain what the meaning of all this is?” Freddie Archibald hisses in a low voice, completely ignoring his daughter to address me.
This should be the moment that I tell the truth, but instead I pull out my fucking spade and dig myself a little deeper into this hole I’ve created. “I know this must be coming as a bit of a shock, but I’ve fallen head over heels for your daughter.”
“But, Carrigan,” he says, glancing at his other daughter who’s preening a step behind him, batting her eyelids at me like I didn’t just slide a million pound diamond onto her sister’s finger.
“What about Carrigan?” I say, playing dumb to his obvious undertone.
“Carrigan is the future of our family, the…” he trails off when he sees the murderous expression on my face. “They’re twins,” he says, his brow furrowing as if he’s confused why I wouldn’t just pick the other twin because she comes with a bigger inheritance.
A shocked laugh falls from my lips and for the first time I allow Tally’s hand to fall away from mine. Stepping forward, I smile as I lean into him, so it looks like I’m having a happy private chat with my future father-in-law. “You, your wife, and your evil poisonous daughter are a fucking disgrace. I’m standing here with your daughter. The daughter I think you like to pretend doesn’t exist, in my arms, my ring on her finger, and you’re still trying to pimp out your other kid to me. What the fuck is wrong with you?”