Sliding Into Home

by Arlene Hittle

  “Not as much as everyone thinks.” His blush deepened. “I had an image to uphold.”

  “It’s okay, Greg. We all do what we have to do.”

  Herself included. Would he see the parallel when she finally worked up the courage to convince him she was not, and had never been, an exotic dancer?

  He, too, was silent for a moment. Then he cursed. “Was that the Outback?”

  Jenn looked out the window at the restaurant they’d just whizzed past. Noted the familiar green roof and red logo. “Sure looks like it.”

  Greg muttered a few more choice words on the way to the next exit, where, after a lengthy wait at two stoplights, they doubled back to the restaurant. Her parents’ aging sedan was already in the parking lot.

  Her stomach lurched. “They’re here.”

  “You okay?” He pulled into a parking spot, braked and searched her face. “You’re green.”

  She forced a smile. “Fine.”

  “If you’re that uncomfortable, I don’t have to go in.” He reached for his wallet and pressed a couple of bills into her hand. “Tell your folks I had an emergency meeting, enjoy lunch on me and call me when you’re done. I’ll find a gym or something.”

  She didn’t even look at the cash. No doubt it would be more than enough. Greg was way too generous with his money. But his suggestion had a flaw.

  “In those clothes?” Jeans and a polo shirt weren’t what anyone would consider workout gear.

  “I have a gym bag in the trunk.”

  “Ah.”

  With that issue resolved, she was tempted to take him up on the offer. She could have lunch with her parents, alone. It’d save everyone involved a lot of stress and potential embarrassment.

  Chicken.

  Right. Taking the easy way out would disappoint both her folks and Greg. He might be pretending to be casual about it, but his rigid posture and thin smile told a different story.

  Jenn shook her head and handed him back his cash. “No way. You and I are both having lunch with my parents.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  She was, dammit. She wanted her parents to meet the man in her life…the man she wanted to keep in her life, now and forever. Together, they approached the restaurant’s door.

  Despite her resolve, her stomach was in knots and her steps faltered. She didn’t object when Greg slid his arm around her waist, lending her his support.

  She scanned the dimly lit restaurant for her folks. She spotted them in a corner booth. Her mother saw her, too, and waved. Her joyful smile made Jenn feel guilty for even considering canceling. It’d been too long since she’d spent time with her parents.

  “Over here,” she told Greg before leading the way to their table. “Mom, Dad, this is Greg.”

  Her father stood and shook Greg’s hand. It was one of those hearty guy handshakes, one pump up and down, delivered with a not-quite smile from Dad. Better that than a growl, she supposed. Not much, though.

  Her mother smiled enough for both of them. “Hello, Greg. It’s nice to meet you. Please sit down, both of you.”

  Jenn slid into the massive curved booth beside her mother. Greg took a seat beside her. The waitress took their drink orders, diet soda for her and beer for Greg. Her father was drinking beer, too. No doubt he took that as a cue.

  As her mother not so subtly grilled Greg about his work, Jenn’s unease swelled. There was a fifth place set at the table. She pointed. “Mom, are we expecting someone else?”

  Before her mother had a chance to reply, Jess rushed up to the table. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic.”

  Greg’s head swiveled so fast it nearly snapped right off his neck. Slack-jawed, he stared at her sister before looking back at her.

  The churning in Jenn’s gut rushed up to choke her. She swallowed it back down. “Greg, you already know my sister, Jess.”

  ****

  Faced with Jenn’s mirror image, Greg’s head spun. He looked into Jess’ jade-green eyes again and faced bone-deep certainty that she was the dancer. He’d offered her the job. Big Jake had been right all along. Again. Jenn was a forever kind of girl.

  And he wasn’t a forever kind of guy.

  Liar. Just the other day you were thinking you couldn’t get along without her.

  He needed some air. Fast. He jumped out of the booth and bolted for the door. He didn’t care that Jenn was a few steps behind him. Didn’t trust himself to speak without saying something they’d both regret.

  He stalked to the porch railing, planted his hands wide and breathed deep. Fat lot of good that did. Hot, stifling Phoenix air filled his lungs.

  Jenn stopped just short of his side, close but not close enough for him to reach out to. Did he even want to? He didn’t know. He felt…betrayed. She’d lied from Day One.

  He closed his eyes and took a few more breaths. They did nothing to calm him, or ease the ache in what he supposed was his heart. “Twins.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s Jade.”

  She nodded and covered his hand with hers. Her voice was thick. “I was going to tell you so many times.”

  “You should have.” Greg still didn’t look at her. He couldn’t. Not when his feelings were so raw.

  “Remember when we met in the courthouse conference room?” Her fingers tightened around his fist and there was a thread of steel in her tone. “Remember I told you Jade was my sister? Remember how you refused to believe me?”

  He rubbed at the ache in his chest, no less deep because she was right. “I remember. You should have made me listen.”

  “It didn’t matter at the time.” She shrugged. “You were just some blockhead client I’d never see again.”

  “But you did see me again. You could have told me when you took the job I offered your sister. Or when we kissed in the gym. At any point over the last six weeks, you think it’d have been easy to say, ‘Hey, Greg, guess what? I really do have a twin.’” He raised his voice. “At the very least, you should have told me the truth before we got into bed together.”

  “Shh.” Her cheeks flushed.

  Anger made him lash out. “If people can’t figure out we’re screwing, they’re too stupid to live.”

  “You don’t have to be crude.” Jenn stepped back and fixed him with a glare that screamed grow up. “If you recall, I never, ever came right out and said I stripped.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No, really. Think back.”

  God help him, even as pissed as he was at her, he did as she asked. Seemed wanting to please her was a habit. A bad one. A parade of coy looks and carefully chosen words marched through his memory.

  Dammit, she was right. She had never said those exact words. She’d merely let him think what he wanted. He slammed his fist down on the ledge, and the whole railing shook. “Typical lawyer. Trying to get off on a technicality.”

  “I didn’t lie to you, Greg. I just didn’t bother to correct your assumption.”

  Her tone, so matter-of-fact, grated on his already raw nerves. “You think that makes it better?”

  She started to nod, but it turned into a shake.

  “Then why did you do it?” Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. “This…everything we have is built on a lie.”

  And that hurt. He trusted her with his secret thoughts, his struggles against becoming his father. Even the realization that becoming Big Jake wasn’t really so bad. Why hadn’t she trusted him enough to tell the truth?

  “It isn’t.” She reached for his hand. “I’ve always been real with you.”

  He jerked out of her grasp and took a step back. Regarded Jenn’s guilty flushed cheeks. Her sad green eyes. Confusion, frustration and hurt welled up from the hole where his heart used to be. “How can you be you when you’re pretending to be your sister?”

  She narrowed her eyes and stamped her foot. “I never pretended to be anyone. I was me, only sexier.”

  “Excuse me if I fail to see the distinctio
n. A lie is a lie, whether bald-faced or by omission.”

  “Says the man who created Bartlesby’s Babes.”

  “Hey now. That’s different.”

  Jenn shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s exactly the same. You did what you had to do, just like I did.”

  “So you had to pretend you were Jade? Had to tie me up in knots? Had to avail yourself of the Bartlesby millions?”

  She reeled back as if he’d slapped her.

  Too far, his conscience warned. But he was too angry to listen. “You know, it didn’t bother me that you stripped.”

  “No doubt turned you on.” Her smile was brittle.

  He ignored the dig, in part because it was true. “But I wouldn’t have cared that you didn’t, either. What bothers me is that you didn’t trust me enough to be honest. I thought we shared something special. A connection that ran deeper. Turns out you were just using me.”

  “You’re wrong. I—”

  He cut her off. “There’s no room in my life for liars.”

  “Then I guess this is goodbye.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I’ll make sure your father’s secretary gets all my notes on the Foundation’s holiday party.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Greg shot her a look that could only be described as incredulous. “You’re giving up just like that?”

  Jenn stared right back. He’d just said he had no room in his life for her. If he expected tears and pleas to reconsider, he didn’t know her at all.

  Exactly his point, Jade.

  “You made your feelings pretty clear just now. There’s nothing left to be said.”

  Sneakers squeaking on the painted wooden porch, she sped away before he figured out her heart was shattering. Her sister headed her off before she got back to the table. No doubt Jess had been lying in wait just inside the door, waiting for Jenn to finish arguing with Greg.

  Jess’ eyes were huge. “Jenn, I’m so sorry. When Mom suggested I meet you guys for lunch, I just assumed it meant you’d already told him.”

  “I should have.” She looked over her shoulder. Greg watched them both, his scowl evident from across the patio. She took a couple of twenties out of her wallet and gave them to Jess. “Give these to Mom and Dad to pay for their lunch and then take me to my place. Or yours. Somewhere other than here.”

  Jess nodded, and soon they were hurtling down the freeway to a destination unknown. Jenn didn’t really care where they were headed, as long as she could escape Greg’s stare. The hurt in his eyes, so at odds with his harsh disapproval, was too much to bear.

  Even if his reaction was justifiable, which was debatable given that she never flat-out lied to him, he could have been more understanding. Less judgmental. It wasn’t as if she stole anything.

  Except maybe his heart.

  Her conscience and her sister seemed to be collaborating to make her feel even worse than she already did.

  “Jenn, you’ve been telling me you needed to tell Greg the truth for more than a week.” Jess pursed her lips. “So why didn’t you?”

  Guilt stabbed at her, just as sharp as his hurt and anger. “I was going to. But with so much going on with Greg’s father and his search for a major league team, it was too easy to let it slide.”

  Jess’ eyes rolled. “Who ever heard of a lawyer avoiding confrontation?”

  Good question. “I wish I knew.” She pressed her fist into her thigh. “I should have told him sooner. Greg’s right about that.”

  “And I should never have suggested you take that job. Hindsight is 20/20 and all.”

  “Don’t blame yourself, Jess. I’m glad you did. I like working for the Foundation.” She sighed. “Er—liked.”

  “You’re quitting?”

  “I can’t exactly work for Greg now.”

  “My sister, the quitter. I thought you were smarter than that.”

  What was it with everyone questioning her judgment today? “Jess, the man can’t stand the sight of me. Why would I want to work somewhere I’m not wanted?”

  “Because you made a commitment? Because you like the work?” Her voice softened. “Because you love him?”

  Tears welled again. “Maybe I love him enough to not put either of us through the torture of trying to work together. All I can do is make sure Jake’s secretary gets my notes.”

  “Chicken.”

  The soft-spoken taunt didn’t set well. “I am not!”

  “If the stiletto fits—”

  “It doesn’t.” Now that she’d had some time to think, she was no longer content to let Jess drive wherever. “Take me to my place, will you? I have things to do tonight.”

  “If it involves a pint of ice cream and two spoons, I’m in.”

  Jenn shook her head. “Try laundry and a trip downtown, to the office.”

  “That sounds like a barrel of fun,” Jess grumbled. Nevertheless, her sister took the turn that would take them to her apartment. A few minutes later, the car pulled to a stop at the sidewalk leading to Jenn’s building.

  She got out and then leaned back into the car. “Thanks, Jess.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for the ride.” She sighed. “You shouldn’t thank me for messing things up with Greg, either.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “You don’t?”

  She squeezed her sister’s hand. “I don’t.”

  Sure, it’d be easy to say her twin’s untimely arrival at the restaurant caused the falling out with Greg. While Jenn would love nothing more than to blame someone else, she couldn’t. The reality was she brought it on herself through avoidance, evasion and flat-out ignoring the untruth that loomed between them.

  As soon as Greg started being important to her, she should have set the record straight. Her conscience told her to. Instead, she’d rationalized her way around the problem, and now she was left to face the fallout.

  Reality bites.

  ****

  When Greg let himself into his office Monday morning after a sleepless night, Jenn’s desk had been tidied up. There were no more neat stacks of papers. The few personal effects she’d kept there—a photo of her parents and a neon pink stapler—were gone. The deluxe computer monitor was dark.

  Damn. So much for the fragile hope she’d been bluffing.

  He took a vicious swing at the false hope and then went to his own office. There, in the center of his desk blotter sat a stack of folded clothes topped with a sheet of Bartlesby Foundation letterhead.

  Greg didn’t have to read it to know what it said. He stalked to the desk and picked it up anyway. Fool that he was, he couldn’t help hoping he was wrong.

  The letter began, “Mr. J.G. Bartlesby II.”

  “So much for that,” he muttered. Any letter beginning with such a formal greeting had to be bad news.

  It continued:

  Please accept this, my official letter of resignation, effective immediately. I’ve entered all your appointments into the online calendar, as well as on your desk calendar. They’re color-coded by type. I’ve also forwarded any and all notes on the holiday campaign to Ellen. They, too, are in color-coded files.

  Thank you for allowing me to work with you on the holiday campaign. It’s going to be something special.

  Sincerely,

  Jennifer Louise Simpson

  He crumpled the letter in his fist and flung it into the trash. Dissatisfied, he swept Jenn’s workout gear into the wastebasket, too. Only he miscalculated, so it landed half in, half out. It hung there, mocking him, at the same moment his father burst into his office.

  Greg gave him a nod as pleasant as he could muster. “Welcome back, Dad. You’re looking good.”

  Not. Truth was, his father looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Better an aneurysm than liver failure, he supposed. It’d put Big Jake out of his misery faster, for sure.

  His father snorted. “Well, you look like I used to coming off a weeklong bender.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Big J
ake ignored his sarcasm. “I assume your current state has something to do with the secretary’s desk being empty?”

  He pressed his lips together, but his gaze dropped to the trash can.

  His father’s eyes followed and then narrowed. “Dammit, Two! What did you do to Jenn?”

  “Why do you automatically assume I did something to her?” He kicked at the damn dead giveaway can. It skidded across the carpet, leaving a trail of workout clothes as it rolled. “Why don’t you ask what she did to me?”

  “Okay, Greg. What did Jenn do to you?”

  An eye roll accompanied the too-patient question, and it grated on Greg.

  “Can it with the ‘I’m humoring you’ tone, will you? I’m the injured party here, not Jenn.”

  Big Jake’s expression screamed disbelief.

  “I am.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Son.”

  He stalked to the windows that offered a view of the almost-cloudless desert sky. “She’s been lying to me all this time. She’s no stripper.”

  Confusion crossed his father’s face for a second. Then he started laughing, hard. And for a lot longer than necessary.

  With his father’s laughter echoing off the walls of the posh office suite, Greg ground his teeth. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, old man, because I don’t find it funny that Jenn has a twin sister who strips.”

  His father finally stopped laughing. “You brought this on yourself, you know. How many times did I tell you that girl was no stripper?”

  “Seeing is believing.” He stared at the lone, wispy cloud crossing the horizon. “I saw what I saw.”

  “Apparently you saw Jenn’s twin, not Jenn.”

  “Apparently.”

  His father clomped to the window to get in his face. “Let me get this straight. You’re upset because the woman you love isn’t a stripper?”

  “Yes.”

  Big Jake sighed and shook his head.

  “No.”

  “Part of being a man is making up your mind, Two.”