by Ginny Baird
Hope had to stop him.
She had to stop Jackie, too.
She had to stop them both—before they reached airport security.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jackie returned from the restroom looking like a different person. Seriously. A different person. Her makeup was no longer smeared, and she wore a bright smile, and yet…there was something different about her. “Feeling better?”
“Uh-huh, yep. So much.”
Brent squinted and looked closer. Nope. It was Jackie, all right. Except… “Did you do something different with your eyes?”
“My eyes?” she asked, appearing alarmed. She smoothed back her hair, which was in a ponytail all of a sudden. “What do you mean?”
“They, uh…” Brent shook his head, deciding he was mistaken. He’d know his bride anywhere. And here she was. “It’s nothing.”
“Oh,” she said, batting her eyelashes. “The new eyeliner. Is that it? I just applied some in the restroom.”
Brent didn’t know much about women’s makeup, but he did understand it could have a transformational effect. “That’s it. You’ve enhanced your beautiful eyes.”
“Aww, sweet,” she said, swatting his arm in a supposedly familiar gesture that somehow just felt—wrong.
Brent rolled back his shoulders, deciding he was imagining things. He’d probably feel better once they boarded their plane and were on their way to the sunny Caribbean. “Did you still want coffee?”
“Coffee?” Her gaze darted toward the donut shop. “No, thanks. We’d better move along.”
He stared down at her neck, noticing it was gone. “Your necklace. That’s what it is. You’re not wearing it anymore.”
Jackie clasped a hand to her neck. “Oh. Well. I decided to take it off.”
His forehead rose. “Why?”
“I, um…just thought.” She fiddled with her ponytail holder. “It would get in the way.”
“The way? Of what?”
“Might set off the alarm.”
“What?”
“In security.”
“Oh, sure.” He doubted that very seriously, but he didn’t want to belittle her fears. “Good thinking. It might.”
She grinned, and her pretty face set off some kind of weird alternate-reality kick. He’d know that gorgeous profile anywhere, but in a strange way, it seemed alien.
Not entirely alien but distant. Like he knew it, of course, only not intimately.
This was nuts. He was psyching himself out. “I kind of got used to seeing you in it.”
“Oh. Did you?” She smiled, but her smile looked a little tight. “That’s nice.” She craned her neck to see up ahead of them beyond the throngs of passengers streaming out of a hallway leading to the gates. “It’s crowded. It’s a good thing we’re going on through.”
“Wait!”
Brent froze in his tracks, and a cold shiver darted down his spine. The woman shouting behind them sounded just like Jackie. Only Jackie—was here. He stared at her as the voice called again.
“Brent! Jackie!”
The color drained from Jackie’s face, and he had a really bad feeling something terrible was going down.
He slowly turned around to find Jackie’s mirror image staring at him. The only difference was she was dressed in other clothes and wore her hair down. “What?”
“Hope!” Jackie yelped, startled. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done from the start,” she said on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, but this has to stop. And it stops right here—with me. All my life, I’ve been the big sister, but I’ve let you push me around. But not anymore. There’s too much at stake. I’m no longer covering for you or fixing your stupid mistakes. I’m done.”
Brent’s gaze swept over her and then over Jackie. Then did it again. Had Hope come to see her sister off at the airport? In Boston? No, wait. That didn’t make sense. And why was she so incensed? “Are you—?”
“Hope, yes.”
“Hope.” Jackie shook her head emphatically. “No.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Jackie shot her sister a pointed look and grabbed Brent’s arm. “We’d really better go.”
“And just leave your sister? Here?”
He gazed into Hope’s eyes and then down at the necklace.
Brent’s heart thumped, and then it thundered.
“You’re not Jackie,” he said in measured tones.
“No.” Her voice warbled. “I’m not.”
“But I am,” Jackie said, waving her phone in his direction. “And there’s still time to catch our plane.”
His head spun, and then his stomach flipped in the worst possible way.
For a fleeting instant, he was positive he was going to throw up.
“Are you telling me,” he asked quietly, “that the two of you—”
“Swapped places,” Hope said miserably. “Yes.”
Brent stared off into the distance. Through one of the airport’s plate-glass windows, he saw a plane taxiing out to the runway. “For how long?” he asked, unable to look at either of them.
“The whole week,” Hope said.
Brent caught his breath and held it as his pulse thrummed in his ears.
“The whole week. I see.” He turned his gaze back on Jackie. “So, you were never there?”
“I could…couldn’t,” she stammered. “The Martin wedding—”
Brent gaped at her. “You’re kidding me?” Then he laughed at the absurdity of it all. “Okay, where are the cameras? You ladies have got to be punking me, right?”
When neither one responded, he knew that they weren’t.
“For the love of everything holy.” Brent blew out a hard breath. “So you weren’t sick?” he asked Hope.
She hung her head in shame. “I was there with you the whole time.”
He glared at Jackie. “And you were in Boston?”
“No. Nantucket.” She reached for him, but he pulled away. “It’s not as bad as it soun—”
“Not as bad?” he asked, his voice rising. When onlookers turned their way, he made an effort to tamp things down. “You let your sister pretend to be you,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “And not just for any old thing. For our wedding. Wow.”
Everything was starting to make sense, with lots of pieces falling into place. No wonder he’d discovered a whole new side of Jackie. That whole new side was linked by DNA. “Jackie” hadn’t been Jackie at all, but Hope, her twin.
“Listen,” Jackie said gently. “It’s not like we’re really not married. We are. From the courthouse in Boston.”
“Yeah? How can I be sure that was you and not”—he sent Hope a dismissive look—“her?”
“It was stupid, I know,” Jackie said feebly.
“Stupid doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
“Brent, there’s still time,” Jackie said. “Time for us to salvage this thing.”
“Oh no, there’s not.”
“But what about your grandfather? His business?”
“Great.” Brent angrily pursed his lips. “This is all really great.” He set his eyes on Hope. “You know what you’ve done is going to devastate my family.”
Her chin trembled. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m afraid, this time, sorry’s not good enough.” He wheeled back on Jackie. “When were you planning to tell me?” When she didn’t answer, he added incredulously, “Never?”
Brent had faced a lot of intense situations, but none of them were as wretched as this. He felt like someone had poured gasoline all over his soul and then set a match to it.
“You know what?” He held up his hands. “I’m done. You two ladies go to Bermuda together, if you want. Liv
e it up. Have a great time scamming the locals.” He grabbed his suitcase handle. “Oh. And don’t forget the tourists. They’re easy game.”
“Great, Hope. This is just great. Thanks one whole heck of a lot.” Jackie’s whole body shook, and it looked like she was about to break down crying, too. But they would be crocodile tears, as far as Brent was concerned. She was already walking toward security.
He couldn’t believe it.
The heartless woman was actually going to Bermuda. Fine.
Before he could leave, Hope raced up in front of him, blocking his escape.
“I know you don’t believe it,” she said with big, sad eyes. “But I wish I hadn’t done it. I wish I’d never lied about who I was. But, Brent? I need you to know—I wasn’t lying about one thing. The feelings I developed for you.”
“What is this, Hope? Some kind of mind game?”
“No, I’m telling the truth.”
“The truth,” he said searingly. “That’s a good one.”
Tears leaked from her eyes. “I know I may have pretended to be Jackie, but everything I said and did was real.”
“Down to the story about the necklace?” he asked, eying it harshly.
“Yeah, down to that.”
“Well then, I’m glad you have it, Hope. At least someone’s going to be your Valentine.” It was a low blow, but she deserved it. She and her sister were without a doubt the most despicable people he’d ever met.
“I can understand why you hate me,” she said, and in that moment, Brent’s heart ached because he understood that he didn’t. He was furious at her for her deception. But hate her? No.
He gazed into her eyes, searching for a glimmer of truth in her soul. For that incredible woman he’d come to know so intimately and love.
And she was there. He could feel her.
He wished to goodness that he didn’t, because that made matters even worse.
“I’ve got to go.”
Then he turned and walked away.
He had no idea whether she’d try to get a last minute ticket and board that plane with Jackie. But he didn’t care.
He did get that he needed time to process things.
He also knew he wasn’t ready to face his family. Well, not all of them, anyway. So he took out his phone and called Derrick to ask if he could come up to his cabin for a couple of days.
“Yeah, man. Of course.” Derrick hesitated a beat. When he spoke, his tone was tinged with worry. “I thought you were supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
“There’s not going to be any honeymoon.”
For a moment, Derrick didn’t answer, and then he finally said, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hope sat on her futon next to Iris, who’d brought over a big plate of brownies. Double chocolate chunk with walnuts. Hope hadn’t been able to resist them.
“You know, you’re ruining my figure with all these treats.”
“Hush, child,” she said, her dark eyes twinkling. “You’re in as great a shape as always. Besides that, haven’t you heard? Stress burns calories.”
Iris had dropped by four times since Hope had returned from Boston with serious ambitions of going into extended hibernation. It was pretty hard to sleep with Iris constantly coming over with something new and delicious to eat. She claimed she was trying out recipes for her church bazaar. There was going to be a big baking competition Labor Day weekend, and she badly wanted to win.
“I think this is your best recipe yet.” Hope crammed another brownie in her mouth, thinking it was a close call between the brownies and Iris’s Zesty Lemon Bars, which she’d made from scratch, using real lemon zest.
It had now been a whole week since the aborted honeymoon fiasco, and she’d not yet heard from her sister. She hadn’t tried texting her, either. If Jackie’d honestly gone to Bermuda, Hope wasn’t sure she wanted verification that her own flesh and blood could be that unfeeling. While she understood about not wasting the ticket or the accommodations, indulging in the vacation anyway just felt wrong.
“You don’t know for a fact that she went there,” Iris said, smoothing Hope’s furrowed brow.
“How do you always know what I’m thinking?”
“I don’t. But I’ve got good instincts.” Iris took a sip of coffee. “You could always call her, you know.”
Hope shook her head. “I’m not ready.”
“What about your mom?”
“I don’t think I can face her yet, either.”
“You think she’s with Gavin?”
Hope shrugged. “Maybe, if she’s lucky. Mom knew the truth about what was going on. No doubt Gavin’s on the Albrights’ side.”
“Who says anybody has to take sides?”
“Come on, Iris. You yourself said the whole situation was unforgiveable.”
She waved her hand. “That’s only because you shocked me at first.” She laughed self-effacingly. “And I don’t shock easy.”
“I really do feel awful about everything.”
“I know you do.”
“You want to know the worst part?”
Iris waited patiently.
“I love Brent.”
Hope’s heart felt bruised, like every one of its chambers had taken a solid beating. It was hard to know how it was functioning anymore, but she was still there, and day after day, when she opened her eyes, she only felt more terrible about things instead of better.
“I’m sorry, child. Things will get better in time.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Maybe you should reach out to him?”
“I know how that would go over. Not well at all.”
“You don’t have to decide today,” Iris told her. “Why don’t you see how you feel tomorrow?” Iris drank a little more coffee and then said as an aside, “Did you know Dave and Barry are doing a pop-up?” she asked, mentioning the ponytailed guys who lived next to Hope.
“No. What?” She viewed Iris with surprise. “What kind?”
“They’re junk metal artists, it seems.”
“Really?”
“I know you’ve seen their trash bins out back.”
“Yeah, but I thought… Well, I wasn’t sure what I thought.”
“That they were throwing out tons of trash? Destroying the environment? Heavens, no. They’ve been collecting things that other folks have discarded.”
Hope thought on this, realizing she’d never actually seen even one dumpster rolled to the curb on trash pick-up day.
“Dave and Barry throw nothing away. I mean, nothing. They compost all their refuse and recycle everything else.”
“How do you know all this?”
“They let me use some of their compost for my garden.”
“Iris,” Hope asked cagily. “Are you growing anything illegal?”
“No.” She chuckled. “And if I were, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Hope hugged her friend. “I love you.”
“I love you too, child.”
“What day’s the pop-up?”
“Next Friday night.”
“We’ll have to go. Will you be my date?”
“You know I will,” Iris said, appearing pleased.
…
Brent folded his Bermuda shorts and tucked them in his suitcase. He actually had bought those shorts for Bermuda. What a total geek he was. Not to mention a super gullible guy. But that was okay; he’d learned his lesson now. Burn me once…and all that. He was a fast learner.
“You don’t have to go yet, you know,” Derrick said from his chair at the kitchen table. He’d made a pot of afternoon coffee and was nursing his second cup.
“Thanks. I appreciate that, but I’ve taken you up on your hospitality long enough.”
<
br /> For the past seven nights, he’d slept on his brother’s sleeper sofa. It was comfortable enough, but Derrick had a day job and would probably appreciate having some evening time alone. Brent was sure it had gotten old, hearing the whole sordid tale three times.
He’d gone over the story those two additional times because he kept finding himself leaving out important details. Like that bit about Hope’s necklace. Now that he’d exorcised himself of the information and dumped all his angst on his long-suffering brother, it was time to go. Lest he force Derrick to suffer longer.
“When are you going to tell the parents?”
“Don’t know. Maybe never.”
“Come on, man.”
“Okay. All right. Sometime soon. Maybe once I’m back in Boston.”
“You could run into her there.”
“Jackie? Sure. But I don’t have to see her to get the marriage annulled. I researched it online, and it should be straightforward enough. We both just have to sign the paperwork, but we don’t have to be there at the same time. I doubt very seriously that she’ll fight me on it.”
“Here’s what I don’t get,” Derrick said. “Why did you want to marry her to begin with?”
Brent hung his head, knowing it had been for all the wrong reasons. That was something he’d come to terms with. While Hope and Jackie had abused his good nature by deceiving him and his family, Brent couldn’t pretend he was perfect. He’d been willing to marry a woman he didn’t honestly love in order to get ahead professionally. His grandpa’s hotel business somehow seemed a whole lot less important to him now.
“It was dumb, Derrick. Really dumb. I thought that—by being married to Jackie—things would be easier for me.”
“In what way?” Brent could practically hear Derrick’s keen mind working. “You mean business-wise? No way.” His jaw dropped. “You mean Grandmother Margaret was right?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” Brent said. “And maybe William’s the right one to take over for Grandpa Chad. He’s got financial training and needs the stability. He hasn’t got tenure yet, and that’s not guaranteed.”
“Plus, he and Sofia have a baby on the way,” Derrick added. “Do you think he’d even want that?”