Her eyes were bright with fresh enthusiasm. She obviously needed this.
“And…” he pressed.
She busied herself with removing the paper napkin from around her silverware. “In New York,” she answered, but then quickly added, “but only for a few days, nothing long term, just a few appearances. What do you think?”
He wasn’t an ogre; she didn’t have to request permission, but he appreciated that she asked his opinion.
Swallowing his distress, he answered as truthfully as possible. “I think that’ll be great…for you,” he amended, hoping she wouldn’t hear the double meaning laced in his words, uttered only in an attempt at being truthful. He hated when she left. Not just because he missed her warm body beside him and her great cooking, but he worried. About her safety, about him not being there to protect her. And he hated New York the most. He would offer to go with her, but he knew she needed a break and time to concentrate on her writing.
“But not for you…” she said, exhaling, having heard his double entendre.
“Wait,” he countered, realizing he was entirely too self-centered. She had given up everything for him, for their family. She didn’t write nearly as much as she wanted, he knew that. “I want you to do this.”
“Really?” she asked, seemingly overjoyed by his statement. But then he noticed something else in her eyes. Was it guilt? Was it because she felt guilty for leaving them?
He reached across the table for her hand. “Jaynee…we’ll be fine…don’t worry. Melissa will help with the kids, and John will use it as an excuse to drag me out to a sports bar to watch UFC. It’ll be fine; it’s only a few days. I’m not that needy.”
“You aren’t?” she teased, smiling.
“Well…maybe I am, but still…I’ll manage.”
Chapter Seven
(Jaynee)
A couple of weeks after her discovery, Jaynee was packed and ready to go. It was only for a few days, as she’d promised Jordan she would return in time for her fortieth birthday, actually, a week before to be exact.
She and Caycee had chatted daily since the day they’d met on the Internet. Both of them were certain that the other was scamming them. But for what reason, she couldn’t possibly imagine. And if Caycee was trying to pull something on her, she was very convincing. They’d discussed numerous aspects of their life up to Jordan’s proposal, which they both realized was the day of this supposed phenomenon.
It’d be nice if she got to New York, though, and there was no one to meet her at the restaurant that Caycee had chosen. How far will my mind venture on this excursion from reality? she wondered. Would she actually conjure up an image to go along with this ridiculous situation? As much as she should feel insane by the circumstances, she couldn’t help but feel excited. At least ideas for a new book were sparking at a rapid pace. She’d already filled pages of blurbs in her iPhone of scenes for her new novel. She never drew up an outline; she preferred to just jot down thoughts and what ifs, and then she’d just start typing.
The last items she packed in her carry-on were a couple of her favorite baseball caps. Caycee had suggested she do something to disguise herself so that they didn’t look like twins. Not that that would be a bad thing, but how would they explain twins with the identical name and social-security number?
Although she’d repeatedly begged him to drop her off at departures, Jordan insisted on parking and walking her to the terminal.
At the security check, he drew her into his arms. “I’m gonna miss you,” he purred, burying his face between her jaw and shoulder, inhaling deeply.
She squirmed as his breath tickled the sensitive spot below her ear, the place that drove her wild. “It’s only a few days. I’ve been gone for two weeks before and you were never concerned.”
He leaned back to look at her. “I just have a funny feeling, but I understand you have to go for your book.” He ran his hands down her back. “I love you, Jaynee, more than anything. You know that, don’t you?”
She shook her head, releasing a huff. “Of course I know that, and I love you too. I’ll be back before you even miss me.”
Her husband enfolded her in a vice-like embrace. “Impossible, I miss you already.” He pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her a little too passionately for public, but it had served its purpose. She would think of nothing but his kiss until she returned. She really hated leaving him for even a short absence. And although she was going to New York to do PR for her book, she felt as though she hadn’t been entirely forthright.
She stepped back from his embrace and took the handle of her rolling suitcase with one hand, while he held onto her other hand. “I’ll miss you too, Jordan. I’ll call you when I land and when I reach the hotel, as always.” She squeezed his hand, then let it gently fall away as she made her way through security. He offered her one final wave as she rounded the corner, and she waved back as cheerfully as she could muster to ease his concerned expression.
She’d chosen a direct flight to New York, always worth the few extra bucks. And before she could type a few thousand words, the flight attendants were insisting passengers stow their personal belongings and return seat backs and tray tables to their full, upright positions.
She did as instructed, eagerly awaiting landing. She would take a taxi to her hotel, and then she’d have dinner with her sister, as she’d come to think of Caycee. The terminology alter ego sounded too hokey and of course, impossible. A long lost twin sister who’d stolen her identity, who also happened to be a real-life fortuneteller based on the personal experiences she knew about her life seemed much more plausible.
Whatever the story, she wanted to explore the possibilities. So, she’d agreed to meet Caycee in a busy public restaurant. Jordan would have objected, of course, and that is why she couldn’t tell him. Jaynee had also made plans this afternoon to see her literary agent, so at least she was following through with her reason for coming to New York.
She’d visited New York enough times not to be intimidated, but still felt uncomfortable. Over the last eighteen years, she’d gotten accustomed to the peace and tranquility of Stanfield and the total darkness that came with nightfall. Her hotel had to have room-darkening curtains, and even then, she’d have to stuff towels into the cracks to keep the city lights at bay, so she could sleep.
The ride to the hotel was uneventful other than the normal crazy driving she’d experienced. When Jordan had come with her, he’d rented a vehicle. He didn’t care that everyone took taxis in New York. He didn’t like anyone to drive.
She remembered to keep her hat and sunglasses on at all times, in the event someone recognized her. Now that she knew there were two of them, she was on edge, assuming everyone who saw her would recognize her as Caycee Jayne. It wasn’t that she didn’t have fans, but she doubted any of her avid-readers would recognize her from the miniature black-and-white photo on the back flap of her novels.
After unpacking her suitcase, she called Crystal, requesting they meet for coffee before her dinner assignation. She’d done a search on her iPhone, and a promising looking café with excellent reviews sat only a few blocks away from her hotel. Then…just a couple more blocks, was the restaurant where she would meet Caycee. Crystal agreed, and they arranged a meeting for four o’clock.
Before she left, though, she called Jordan to inform him she’d be in meetings the rest of the evening, which was true.
He picked up on the first ring. “Hey, babe, you made it safe and sound, I take it?”
“Yes.” She chuckled. “I’m getting ready to meet Crystal at a yummy-sounding café. If the coffee’s good, I’ll bring some home. And then I’m off to dinner at some steakhouse that’s supposed to be the best in the city.”
Jordan let out something between a laugh and a burst of air. “That doesn’t sound like you, the queen of chicken breast, who refuses to let me eat a steak more than once a month.”
He would catch that. At least he hadn’t recognized that she’d left out a prono
un as she announced, off to dinner. She hoped he wouldn’t push the issue of who suggested the restaurant. She really didn’t want to lie to him.
“Well, it’s supposed to be the best,” she said quickly, hoping to drop the subject.
“Since you’re not here, I’ll be eating fried chicken wings with the boys tonight,” he teased.
“Then you should enjoy,” she said, knowing he’d rather stay in with her than go out with John and Bobby, but they loved to get out of the house. “I have to get cleaned up so I make it on time. I’ll call you before I go to bed, okay?”
“Okay…” It didn’t sound as if it was okay, but she decided not to dwell on his tone.
“I love you, Jordan. Don’t go to sleep before I call. I’ll try to be back as early as possible. Love you.”
“Love you too.” And he hung up.
She dressed as casually as possible, determined not to stand out in any way. She twisted her hair up in a chignon, an attempt to change her style, knowing she couldn’t wear a hat inside the restaurant. She also wore her glasses, which she usually only wore if she was driving, since she couldn’t see across the room without them. She hated wearing them, but they did change her appearance.
She glared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a librarian and suddenly felt all her thirty-nine—she refused to be forty even a day early—years. Jordan wouldn’t have objected. He would have made some feral growling sound and said that she was sexy. He loved her glasses, which only made her assume he had some fetish for teachers or librarians.
***
Coffee with Crystal was a short engagement. Her agent was a spitfire, always off to the next appointment. Jaynee was surprised she’d even allotted time to see her on such short notice, but she was thankful because she’d needed the excuse.
They spent several minutes going over her itinerary, and then Crystal kissed her lightly on the cheek as she stood up to leave. “By the way, Jaynee,” she stopped and stared at her for a second before speaking again, “what’s with the new look? It makes you look old.”
Crystal had never been one for subtlety. She spoke her mind. Something Jaynee had always appreciated about her. “Oh, it’s nothing. I was simply hot and didn’t feel like wearing my contacts.”
“Oh…well…you won’t dress like that tomorrow, will you?” she asked with childlike honesty.
Jaynee couldn’t contain her laugh. “No, Crystal. I’ll do my best to look voguish and vibrant.”
“Good! See you tomorrow.” She turned on her heel and strode briskly out the door without even a glance backward.
Jaynee remained seated, deciding to do a little more research on her novel, since she still had an hour before her rendezvous with Caycee.
Her mind scattered, and she found it difficult to concentrate. In a short time, she would be meeting a potential stalker, possibly a deranged twin sister, or herself. She wasn’t sure which possibility made her more uncomfortable. She had her police-issued pepper spray, compliments of Jordan, if she was a stalker, and they would be in a public place, so not too much apprehension there.
If Caycee really was her twin sister, that would actually be awesome. Although, the deranged part scared her. But what if Caycee and she were the same person? What would she have to come to grips with, then? She had one more challenge before she made any assumptions. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, if she passed this test, there would be no question of her identity, and Jaynee would know for sure that Caycee was somehow…her. The thought was mind-boggling.
She cleared the table, packed everything into her satchel, and then headed toward the steakhouse, keeping a watchful eye for danger. If this were a setup, now would be the opportune time, as she was approaching the restaurant. One of the reasons she’d requested that Caycee meet her at six. She didn’t want to arrive at their meeting after dark.
Chapter Eight
(Caycee)
Caycee had spent her day pretty much the way she spent every day of her life.
She woke up, made coffee, gobbled down a muffin, and then swallowed a handful of vitamins. Other than additional supplements, it’d been the same routine since her college days. She wondered if Jaynee was the same.
A creature of habit, she tended to do the same thing every day. Something Ben, her manager and friend, had requested she not do. He constantly complained that she frequented the same locations on a daily basis, insisting it would be too easy for a stalker to trace her patterns.
But it’d been forever since she’d had any significant trouble. A few ex-boyfriends and a couple of admirers wrote letters requesting God-only-knows what. Ben tended to field those letters. She was sure if she’d insisted, he would let her read them, but she was content with their current arrangement. He kept the real weirdos away.
Ben had been her only friend in the past fifteen years. They’d had an intimate relationship for a couple of months, but she’d called it off when she realized he was never going to leave his wife. She’d felt horrible about the affair; she’d never meant for it to happen. He wasn’t even her type. She’d just been lonely, and Ben had been there. She’d consumed too much wine one night and had woken up with him in her bed.
Ben hadn’t been happy about her breaking off their relationship, and for a few hours, she’d genuinely felt frightened. He’d started by begging her to reconsider, but then had turned angry. He’d never hit her, but he’d held her forcibly and hadn’t released her until she’d begun to cry.
By the end of the evening, he’d admitted that he couldn’t leave his wife, but had never elaborated why. She’d remained adamant that they couldn’t continue the way they were. They’d agreed to remain friends, but she still noticed the way he ogled her sometimes.
She would have found a new manager, but he’d pleaded with her not to take that away in addition to her love. Love…she’d scoffed at the word internally. He hadn’t loved her, and she certainly hadn’t loved him; she’d simply been lonely.
Caycee finished her workout, another daily ritual. At least nobody bothered her there anymore. She wondered what Jaynee would look like after having four children. She’d considered having children without a husband, but then decided against it.
What kind of mother would she be? She cringed at the possibility that she might turn out like her mother; though, she doubted it was possible. Her grandmother had practically raised her, and she’d been the best mother any girl could want. She would never forgive herself for the years she’d never called or seen her. But at least she now knew Gram had never missed her; she’d had Jaynee.
Jaynee had said she would drive or fly to Florida twice a year to spend a week with Gram and the family. As much as it comforted her to know that Gram had never been alone, it also made her feel worse. No one had ever missed her; no one had ever known what she’d made of herself. How was it possible they’d never recognized her? Even her mother, who was also a singer, though she sang country and wasn’t even close to her popularity, she would have thought their paths would have crossed somewhere along the line.
But then, she remembered her mother was completely narcissistic and wouldn’t care about a singer who looked and sounded like her only daughter.
She showered, dressed, and applied her makeup. In less than an hour, she’d be standing in front of herself. It was an outlandish notion, but she’d accepted it. Jaynee doubted they were the same person, but she saw no other rational explanation. Jaynee didn’t seem like a person capable of pulling off this magnitude of a hoax, and after all, Caycee was the one who’d contacted Jaynee.
She had no logical explanation of her memories of Jordan if she hadn’t actually experienced them, and Jaynee’s idea of twin sisters separated at birth hadn’t explained their identical childhood memories.
She had never breathed a word about the degenerate who’d raped her when she was seventeen. And he hadn’t known anything but her first name before he’d hightailed out of her house, directly after he’d violated her, leaving behind an expensive Ro
lex watch.
She’d met him at a party. He’d been five years older than she was, a baseball player in town for Spring Training. He’d seemed like such a nice guy, so she hadn’t been concerned when he asked if they could go back to her place. Her dad hadn’t been home, as usual, and she’d seen no reason why they couldn’t. She’d just been ecstatic this older, attractive, and successful man was interested in her.
The evening had been going fine until he’d started getting aggressive. She’d told him no repeatedly, but he forced himself on her. She implored him to stop, explaining that she was a virgin. He’d sneered at first, but then had been thrilled when he realized she’d told the truth. She could have fought to the death, but she figured that if he got what he wanted, he would leave her in one piece.
But he hadn’t. She’d lost more than her virginity that day; she’d lost her faith in humanity, men especially. And in herself for letting him get away with assaulting her, just as she’d let her uncle get away with molesting her as a child. She’d always been afraid that no one would have believed her. Since no one had ever loved her, why would anyone have cared? And if she’d told the only person who’d loved her—her grandmother—about her uncle, it would have devastated her.
So instead, she’d lived with the secrets, and since it’d been so long, she could never have revealed them later in life. It would have looked as though she were another celebrity vying for attention.
The rape had been one of the reasons she hadn’t accepted Jordan’s proposal. She hadn’t wanted to admit that someone had raped her, nor had she wanted him to have that mental picture. The other reason was what she’d done a year before meeting Jordan. She’d been in a horrible relationship for around three years. He’d been a drug addict and an alcoholic, both of which she hadn’t learned until they’d been together for about six months.
The last time they’d had sex was directly after he’d started using again. When she found out, she left him. She’d stood by him through several drug rehabs, and she couldn’t take anymore. She wanted to return to college and do something with her life, become a teacher and writer. Within weeks of breaking it off, she found out she was pregnant, even though they’d always used protection. She was so sick. She’d thrown up so much and so violently in one week, blood vessels had broken in her eyes. Her grandmother had taken her to her doctor, who’d performed a blood test and informed them together. She hadn’t even been far enough along to miss a period.
Split Decisions: A Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel - Charlotte - Book Two Page 5