“How’s my baby girl? Have you filled up your digital card already?” Dad asks, chuckling.
“Hey, Dad. I’ve been working, but I also realized what time of year it is. Isn’t this your proposal time? I know you were thinking of skipping it this year, but I have a feeling this will be your year. And this time around, I’ll be here to celebrate with you.”
“Okay, I’ve locked the door. Now strip,” Celeste says as she turns away from The Grinder’s bathroom door and quickly steps out of her red-bottomed heels, then unzips her designer dove grey slacks. Lifting the bottom of her light blue cashmere sweater, she pauses and eyes me with an expectant look.
This is for Dad, I tell myself as I follow Celeste’s instructions and tug off my cable knit cream-colored sweater. While Celeste spins her hand to move me along, I step out of my moto boots and quickly follow it up with my black leggings and miniskirt.
Holding her sweater in front of her, Celeste gestures to my bra.
I groan. “Is that really necessary?”
“Do you shop at Belle Femme?” She tilts her head impatiently.
I scowl. “I prefer not to spend a half a month’s salary on matching underwear.”
Huffing, she points to my nude bra. “The lace on that will be bulky through the sweater. Switch with me. Oh, by the way, I bought you a set that should work with the dress I’m supposed to wear tonight. You’ll find the dress on the far left in my closet and the bra and panty set in the very top of my underwear drawer.”
I don’t even know how to respond to that. Saying “thank you” for buying me underwear just seems beyond weird—not that this scenario is normal at all—so I just put my back to her and unhook my bra, muttering, “At least I’ll match.” Handing my bra back to her, I say, “I draw the line at underwear.”
“Ew, me too,” she says as she replaces her bra with the one in my hand.
Once I hook her bra on, I sigh that the cups are a half size larger and slip the sweater over it. “You’re um, a bit bigger than me.” Bet Calder loves that. Bleh.
Celeste makes a pained sound behind me. “Your bra is killing me. I’ll have to stop and get one that fits. I figured you might be a little bit smaller than me. The set I bought should fit you.”
Once we’re dressed, Celeste turns me toward her and starts to mess with my hair. I tried to style it like hers before I left the house to meet her this morning, but my mom distracted me by asking what spurred me into encouraging my father to get his pitch ready to go.
The memory of hugging my dad and wishing him luck as he practiced his pitch for the committee just a couple hours ago flickers through my mind as I stand still for Celeste. My emotions swing wildly, making me feel lightheaded. Or maybe it’s Celeste’s high-end perfume tickling my nose and the fact I’m wearing clothes that cost more than my car that are adding to my angst. I still don’t like her, but she’s a means to an end. How does this make you any better than her, Cass?
I ignore the flush that tightens my skin as I stare into “my face” up close.
Many mythologies have a spirit-double story, but considering my past interactions with Celeste, the one legend that keeps playing over-and-over in my mind is the German doppelgänger one. The myth foretells of an ill omen of impending death if you ever lay eyes on your “twin.” So what happens when you actually become her? As tension ratchets within me, I push my sleeves up to help ward off the unsettled feeling and remind myself once more that I’m only here to make sure Dad fulfills his dream. I refuse to let Sophie’s sacrifice be for nothing. Not if I can do something about it.
Sliding her hands down my arms, Celeste clasps my wrists and lifts my arms away from my body, announcing, “Let’s have a look at you.”
Her smile fades as her perusal halts on the Never tattoo on my arm. When she starts to pull my wrists together, so she can stare at the raven sitting on the branch on one wrist and the continuing branch and vines on the other, my back stiffens.
Before I can pull away, she rubs her thumbs over the ink and obviously feels the scars hidden beneath. “Is this why you always wore bracelets in high school?” Deeper questions swirl among the surprise and sympathy in her eyes.
Jerking my arms free, I quickly pull my sweater’s sleeves down. I refuse to be pitied. “Do I pass inspection?”
Nodding, she clears her throat. “You’ll have to keep your tattoos covered. Thankfully my dress for the event is long-sleeved.” She touches my hair, a slight smirk tilting her lips. “I have it on good authority that the deep ruby color will go well with your coloring.”
I wrap my hands around my upper arms, suddenly chilled. “I know we’ve gone over everyone’s names and such, but I’m worried I’m going to slip up. Do I really need to talk to your dad about Calder before the party?”
She quickly nods. “Father will be too distracted at the party to give the subject the attention it needs. It’s important for you to prepare him to meet Calder.”
When I blow out a steadying breath, she folds her hands over mine around my arms. “You’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re not alone with anyone else prior to the party. That should lessen the chance you’ll say something that sounds off. Hang out in my bedroom or go for a walk in the gardens; they’re quiet and secluded. At the party, no one should ask you anything too personal or detailed. And if someone asks you something you don’t know, just pretend you have a sudden tickle in your throat. They’ll be too busy asking if you want something to drink to realize that you didn’t answer.”
Taking a smaller zip-up bag out of her purse, she hands the empty purse to me. “My wallet with my ID is in there, and I’ve put a phone in the inside pocket for you. It’s a clone of my phone. Keep it on vibrate and ignore texts and social media stuff. I’ll respond to anything that needs to be answered immediately, and I’ll send you a text if you need to know about it. Otherwise just text me if you need to get in touch.”
She pulls off her gold bangle bracelets and slips them on my wrist. When she starts to take off the gold necklace around her neck, I shake my head. “The bracelets should be enough.”
Ignoring me, she hooks the necklace around my neck. “I never go anywhere without this. It will definitely be noticed if I’m suddenly not wearing it.”
A knock sounds at the door, making me jump. “Is anyone in there?” a woman calls through the thick wood.
“One second,” Celeste says in a perky tone.
When she suddenly turns and hugs me, whispering in my ear, “Thank you, Cass. You have no idea how much this means to me,” I stiffen. She actually seems a bit nice, which raises my suspicious hackles. Old habits are hard to break.
I awkwardly reply, “A deal’s a deal. My father is working all weekend to be ready to deliver his proposal next week.”
I can only drive around aimlessly for so long before I have to head to the Carver’s estate. If nothing else, I need to get acquainted with the place and practice pretending I belong there before I have to meet with her dad. The idea of talking to Gregory Carver one-on-one is freaking me the hell out. I’m going to screw this up. I won’t be able to do it. He’ll see right through me. God help me.
My hands start shaking, the closer I get to the house. It might be true that I’ve successfully impersonated Celeste before, but that was at a party. This is different. It’s in her home and far more personal. I must be perfect because my success has consequences that reach beyond me.
I tighten my hands on the steering wheel and quickly pull off the road to take several deep breaths. What if the moment I walk in, they see through the façade and know I’m an imposter. I can’t pull this off. I’m not their caliber. I’m not Celeste. I don’t have her poise, her snobbery…her overall I’m-better-than-the-rest attitude. I need someone to talk me down from my fears, so I reach out to the one person who has always had my back.
“Hey, you’re calling me.” Talia sounds surprised. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course, silly,” I say in an upbeat tone.
I chuckle. “No, I have plans, but I would like your advice.”
“Ask away. I’m just unloading groceries.”
The rustling of bags being set on a counter sounds in the background, along with cabinet doors opening and closing. I roll my head from one shoulder to the other, unsure how to phrase what I want to ask, so I just blurt it out. “I thought I was over my past, but I’m suddenly having to face it again. Well, in a different sort of way. I thought I could do it, but now I don’t know if I can.”
“Oh man, Cass. Are you sure you can’t come see me? Or I could come to you. Where are you? It sounds like you could use some face-to-face time.”
“No, it’s okay, Talia. This is something I need to do. I guess…I’d like to know if you ever had to go back to your past and how you handled it?”
The scrape of a chair being pulled out precedes Talia’s sigh. “I did. And no I didn’t enjoy revisiting that part of my life, but in my case it was unavoidable. As painful as it was though, I learned that sometimes you have to go back so that you can move forward. That it’s the only way you can truly leave the past behind you. Does that make sense?”
I’m nodding and already feel the heaviness lifting in my chest. She’s right. I’m stronger now than I was back in high school. I’m every bit as good as the Carvers. I can fit in and handle this with flying colors. “Yes, it does. That helps.”
“I’m only a phone call away if you need some moral support.”
“Thanks for the advice and support, Talia.”
“Always. Keep in touch and let me know how it goes.”
“Will do. Have a good weekend.”
Once I hang up with Talia, I slip my phone in my purse, then move all of “my stuff” to the trunk of Celeste’s car before I get back in the car and head for Celeste’s home.
As soon as I drive up the massive circular drive at the Carver estate, I’m immediately bombarded by Celeste’s bodyguard, Marco. He’s no more than six feet, but he’s a brute of a man with dark wavy hair that he wears super short and a bullish face that says he’s one red flag away from charging. “Where the hell have you been?” he snaps as he pulls my car door open.
Celeste had told me how she ditched him while he was off sneaking a smoke. The guy really is clueless that she knows how to use his habits to her own advantage. What she didn’t warn me to expect is the way he addresses her.
“Excuse me?” I adopt an attitude I’ve seen Celeste use several times with guys at school who thought they could even try to talk to her. Climbing out of my car, I meet his angry gaze. “You’d better button it, Marco, or you’ll find yourself out of a job.”
He stiffens and puffs his chest up. “Your father is my employer, not you. You will never leave this estate again without me. Got it?”
I rage inside. In my mind I tell him where he can shove his self-important attitude, but the words lodge in my throat. Instead, I raise my eyebrows. “We’ll see about that.”
Turning, I walk away and head straight inside only pausing to speak to a tall woman wearing a black skirt and starched white blouse, her dark hair in a French twist. “Can you tell me where my father is, Beatrice?”
When she pauses to stare at me while arranging the tall flowers in a vase on the console near the library, a moment of panic squeezes my chest. Does she realize I’m not Celeste? I tell myself it’s all in how confident you act, but the truth is…my anger at Marco is the only thing that’s going to get me through this meeting with Gregory that Celeste insisted on. I keep my features composed, but my stomach is knotting tight. “I need to speak with him about something.”
“He’s in his office, Celeste. If you want, I’ll knock and see if he’s off the phone yet.”
Exhaling my relief that I passed her scrutiny, I wave as I breeze past her. “That’s not necessary. I’ll just wait for him to finish.”
Marco is right behind me, his shoes slapping the wood floor leading to Celeste’s father’s office. Just as I reach for the knob, he says quickly, “You can’t just walk in there.”
“Watch me,” I say, clinging to my anger as I open the door and step into the room with a confident attitude. I try my best to ignore my pounding heart and the absolute knee-knocking fear I’m about to get caught.
Celeste’s father turns his leather chair away from the window, his silver head swiveling around to face us, his thick brows raised in question.
God, I can’t believe I’m pretending to be his daughter. This is so fucked up!
I immediately take one of the cushioned seats in front of his desk. If I hadn’t my legs might’ve just given out on me. When Marco sits in the chair next to me, his face reflecting an apologetic look toward Celeste’s father, I straighten my spine and pin a patient smile on my face.
“I understand your position, Jonas. There’s still a lot of work to be done in that area,” Celeste’s father says. “I can’t really discuss the details at this time. I just wanted you to know we’re working on it.” He nods. “Yes, I’ll see you tonight.”
As soon as he hangs up, I open my mouth to speak, but he overrides me. “Celeste Ann Carver. You know better than to walk into my office while I’m on a business call.”
Apparently Celeste’s relationship with her father is far more formal than mine is with my dad. It didn’t matter if he was on a business call negotiating the most important contract of the year, my father’s eyes would light up the moment he saw my face. He’d silently beckon me in, then meet me halfway across the room to give me a hug. Yes, I’d be quiet and sit down to wait for him to finish, but this man’s response is so alien to me, I just blink at him for a second before I can collect myself.
“I’m sorry, Father.” The fact Celeste uses the formal term to address her dad should’ve clued me in. Did my voice just shake? Ugh, clearing my throat, I clench my hands together on my lap. “Marco claims that since you’re his employer, he can talk to me any way he wants.”
When the Senator instantly frowns at my bodyguard and demands, “Is this true?” I take a steadying breath.
“That-that’s not what I said,” Marco stutters, jerking upright to a more formal position in the chair.
I’m so relieved that I seemed to have passed her father’s initial inspection that I answer as if I was the one Marco offended. “Did you not curse at me the moment I drove up?”
Marco’s face reddens. “That’s only because you took off without me.”
“Celeste,” Gregory warns, frowning at me. “That’s entirely unacceptable. You know you’re not to leave the house without your bodyguard.”
Right now I’m totally on Celeste’s side about canning this asshole. “What good does having a bodyguard do if he can’t even tell that someone is following me?”
“No one is following you!” Marco raises his voice, clearly agitated as he pulls on his tie to loosen it. “And if that were really true, why would you take off without me?”
“To prove how easily I can, which means you’re not doing your job,” I say, refusing to back down from his resentful gaze.
Marco starts to speak when Gregory cuts in, “Enough!” Pointing to Marco, he narrows his gaze. “Do your job, Marco. Now get the hell out!”
“But—” he cuts himself off at Gregory’s hard stare, then glares at me before leaving.
Once the door shuts behind him, I say, “Thank you for—”
“Silence. We need to talk,” the Senator barks.
Oh God…does he know I’m not Celeste? I’m shaking on the inside so hard, I curl my hands into fists beside my thighs.
Gregory scowls. “I have a lot on my plate right now. I don’t have time to deal with petty stuff like this, Celeste. Stop playing games with Marco. You will wait for him to follow before you leave here. Not only is your safety at risk, but that of our family. I shouldn’t have to remind you that the Carver business is in your name.”
It is? What the hell? Celeste didn’t mention it. I’m just so relieved he’s calling me Celeste that I don’t immediately respond. But that does makes sense that the Carver business would be in Celeste’s name now. According to the info Celeste gave me on her family, her mother has lupus. She’s too ill to take on much responsibility. They must’ve made the change of leadership of the family business to Celeste when her father accepted the Senate appointment. In his new role, he would need to avoid a conflict of interest with the private business sector.
“There is no one stalking you. No one is watching you. I refuse to have this discussion again, Celeste. Is that understood?” The finality in her father’s tone draws me out of my thoughts.
Shocked by his seeming indifference for his daughter’s wishes, I tilt my chin higher. If there’s even a chance that Celeste is right and her bodyguard is a total idiot—the asshole part has already been established—then she needs to be protected by someone she trusts to have her back.
I reach for my earlier anger to get me through this. “Since I’m the head of Carver Enterprises, that means that technically I’m Marco’s employer.”
When the Senator’s expression hardens, I hold up my hand. “Calder Blake is coming to the event today. You know his qualifications.”
“I can’t find anything on him since he left the military nine months ago, Celeste.” Gregory pulls out a folder from a drawer, opening it on his desk. “Honestly, his Blake family connection has more appeal to me than his qualifications as a personal guard.”
I mask my annoyance at how easily he brushes his daughter’s concerns off. “Consider it a double win, then. When you meet him today, please listen to what he has to say. I think you’ll be impressed by him.”
The Senator snorts and stands to his wiry six-foot height, buttoning his suit jacket. “We shall see. For now let’s table the subject. I need to leave for a meeting in five minutes.”
After being summarily dismissed, I head upstairs. I text Celeste as I walk down the hall, heading for her room.
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