by Ana Sparks
As I felt the aircraft swing down from the sky, I wondered what the hell I'd been thinking. The last thing I needed was to get caught up in stupid, girlish fantasies about Dr. Joel Lockhart. Had I forgotten why I was here in the first place?
My sister's future was on the line. My future was on the line. I couldn't afford to make anything more complicated by getting involved with Joel—in my imagination, or otherwise.
Joel landed the plane on a stretch of water on the far side of the island, and pulled the plane alongside a long, wooden dock. Once he killed the engine, he tossed a line to a young man waiting on the dock, took off his headset, and hit me with another one of those intoxicating smiles.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
He offered me his hand. “Then let's go.”
I looked at it for just a second before taking it, unsure that I'd be able to maintain a clear thought process afterward. Luckily, I did, and soon we were heading up through a small copse of trees towards his clinic.
There was nobody else around, which I suppose I should have expected. The gentle morning sun filtered down through the canopy, bathing us in a warm, green-tinged glow.
“So, you have a twin sister,” Joel said, just as the small parking lot of the clinic came into view. “Is she an actress as well?”
He cast a look back at me that could only be interpreted as mischievous. I had a feeling he'd seen through my excuse for the consultation the moment he spied Chelsea on the dock, if not sooner. The only question now was why he was still entertaining me, if that was the case.
“No, she's not an actress,” I admitted. Better to let some of the truth out now. “I wasn't totally honest with you yesterday.”
We stepped up to the front doors of the clinic, and Joel began jangling some keys as he searched for the right one to unlock the door. He glanced back at me and grinned.
“You don't say?”
He had such a playful demeanor about him. It was different than what I'd expected—a cold, clinical doctor who operated at the epitome of professionalism. Not that I minded this side of Joel. It made me feel more at ease in his presence, even if my heart started to race every time he looked at me.
Joel opened the door and held it for me. The building was simple but elegant: white walls decorated with various pieces of art that probably cost more than I made in a month. The small waiting area was furnished with designer leather sofas, and the mahogany coffee table—which looked pristine and untouched—had a selection of magazines on it. I felt like I couldn't even afford to be standing in the waiting room, never mind seeing the doctor.
After turning off the alarm system, Joel turned to face me, and gestured toward the door to the clinic offices. “Shall we?”
I followed him through the door and down a hallway with other doors branching off it. He opened one at the end of the hall and we entered his office. It was just as clean and tasteful as the waiting room; his desk was uncluttered and free from even a speck of dust.
“Take a seat,” Joel said, gesturing to a chair while he sat in the office chair opposite. “I'd love to hear why you're really here.”
I winced before I could stop myself. I couldn't tell him why I was here. Not the whole reason, anyway. All Joel could know was that my sister and I wanted some changes made to our faces, and that was all he needed to know, wasn't it?
“Well, I'm not an actress.”
Joel leaned back in his chair and evaluated me with his glinting green eyes. “If you were, I'm sure I would have believed you the first time.”
My face heated, heart hammering away at the back of my ribcage.
“It's a bit embarrassing, okay?” I didn't need to pretend to be embarrassed, because I truly was. Just not for the reason he said. “My sister and I have gotten confused as each other our whole lives. We both just want a little bit of identity that is our own. Getting surgery to change the way we look is the best way to do that.”
It was a blatant lie. While the part about us getting confused was true, I would never alter my face just to stand apart from my sister. Sure, there were times growing up that it frustrated the hell out of me that we looked alike, especially since I always seemed to get in trouble for things she had done, but that was an issue I'd long since gotten over. Now, I loved that we shared the same DNA. I was still unique in my own way, and so was Chelsea, but we shared something that nobody could ever take from us. I just hoped surgically altering our faces wouldn't change that.
Joel was watching me, the fingertips of both his hands pressed together in front of his face like he was about to offer me a deal on a reality TV show. It made me nervous. I could feel sweat tickling the back of my neck, and wished I'd put my hair up this morning before I left the house.
“I know that you probably have an extensive waiting list, but we can pay cash to skip it.” I was blabbering now, trying to fill the silence between us with something. Anything. “But if you don't want to do it, then that's okay. I'm sure I can find someone else.”
I wasn't sure I could find someone else. In fact, I had an inkling he was the only plastic surgeon in the Bahamas. At least, the only one I knew of. But Chelsea and I would find another way. We always did.
“No, no,” said Joel, easing himself back to an upright position in his chair. “That won't be necessary. I can do the procedure.” He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “I still don't believe your motivation, though. Looking too much like your sister is a pretty flimsy reason to change something as important as your face.”
“Isn't it for me to say if it's reason enough?” I asked, acting haughty to deflect from him hitting so close to the truth. “With all due respect, it shouldn't matter why we want the surgery.”
“Of course it matters.” His voice had lost all trace of suspicion. It was soft and honey-like again now, with a subtle intensity that made me shiver. “It's your face, Megan. A beautiful face, no less. You can't blame me for being curious as to why someone as stunning as you would want to change a single thing.”
I opened my mouth to fire back a retort, but found that it had gone completely dry. It didn’t help that I didn’t know what to say, anyway. Instead, I sat in silence as a burning blush overtook my cheeks.
As it turned out, Joel was no star interrogator.
“Alright, alright, no need to get stressed out.” He released a long sigh. “You’re entitled to your secrets, as everyone is. As long as your motivation for seeking out my services won't interfere with my practice, I certainly won't send you packing.”
This little spark of kindness meant the world to me. I'd never been good at keeping secrets, and Chelsea had used this to her advantage when we had been growing up. She hadn’t been cruel about it, but getting me to admit to having a secret stash of chocolate under my bed, or tell her about the gossip I'd picked up from one of our classmates was her favorite thing to do. I appreciated that Joel was being considerate and didn’t push the topic, because he could see how uncomfortable I was.
The only problem was that my motivation for wanting surgery might actually interfere with his practice. I couldn't say for sure, of course, because I really had no idea what the law said in this kind of scenario. All the same, I felt the urge to share. If only a little.
“My sister and I are...for lack of a better term...on the run,” I revealed. “Or we will be at least, when we look a little different. I can't tell you who from.”
Joel sat back in surprise. “I wasn't expecting that.”
“Is that a problem?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he fixed me with a warm, understanding smile. “It's not ideal, but I'll see what I can do.”
He opened the laptop in front of him and started clicking and scrolling while I waited, quietly worrying myself to death. I couldn't believe I was actually in a doctor's office right now, talking about getting my face permanently changed. It was surreal. And nauseating.
A couple of minutes later, Joel looked up at me over the edge of his
laptop. “Normally, I have a six month waiting list, but there was a cancellation early next week that my receptionist hasn't filled yet. Would that be too soon?”
Yes, I wanted to say. Ten years from now would be too soon.
But I thought about my sister, and about how much trouble she would be in if anybody ever caught her. And, hell, I thought about me too. I certainly didn't want to end up in jail because of something stupid my sister had done, even if it was only temporary. Not to mention that if I didn't disappear with Chelsea, I didn’t know if I’d ever see her again. I didn't want that, and I know she didn't either.
Joel explained his fee system to me, and I balked at the price range our procedures would most likely fall into. It would be a significant portion of the money Chelsea stole, so I knew she wouldn't be happy with it, either. But that was the price you had to pay when you embezzled money from your employer and ran away to the tropics to involve your sister in your crimes.
“Now, why don't we move to one of the examination rooms so I can get a better look at you,” Joel said.
I gulped and nodded, momentarily speechless again. This time, it was because the intensity of his gaze made me wonder if, when he looked at me in the investigation room, he would see everything I had to hide.
We moved to the new, more brightly-lit room, and I sat with my legs dangling off the side of the examination table while Joel stood in front of a set of cabinets, pulling out various bits and pieces. All at once, I realized the heaviness of what I was asking Joel to do. The room's cold, fluorescent glare made me uneasy, as if he was about to put the scalpel to my skin right here and now.
Joel turned back to me with surgical gloves on. “Don’t look so terrified. I'm just going to get a feel of your face's underlying structure to see what we can do.”
He approached me and my heart skipped a beat. I pictured him standing between my thighs, clasping my face in his hands, and looking deeply into my eyes. And while the reality of the situation was not quite as intense, it still made me burn. He stood just off to the side of me, his leg brushing against the side of my thigh. His touch was gentle but firm, and the look in his eyes was hypnotic. I felt my insides melt into a puddle of mush, and wondered if this was how all his patients reacted to him.
“I still don't know if I could forgive myself for ruining such a pretty face,” he murmured, more to himself than to me.
Our eyes met as his hand cupped my cheek, and electricity sizzled in the air between us. He was so close. So warm. I could smell the mint of his breath, and wondered what his mouth would taste like.
Ugh. Not this again.
I needed to get my head in the game here; otherwise, I'd end up in some dank cell next to my sister while we waited for our public defender to show up. It wasn't a fate I was particularly looking forward to.
“Okay,” Joel said finally, stepping back.
I felt like I could breathe again, and sucked in a big gulp of air, immediately feeling silly for doing so.
“So what's the word, Doc?” I asked jokingly.
Joel peeled off his gloves one at a time, brow furrowed. “I think that I've got my work cut out for me.”
Chapter Five
I inhaled the salt of the air and let out a great, melancholy sigh.
My last day on set.
At least it was a good day for it. The last scene we needed to film was set in a little cabin that the Locations crew had found out by Coral Harbor.
The owner of the cabin rented it out exclusively to people looking to get away from reality, and—luckily for us—film crews looking to simulate reality. There was no one around for miles, and I'd gotten a ride in with Allison and her team.
I set the cabin up with rustic, beachy decor, with loose fishing nets and strings of sea glass hanging from the front porch. They were filming the movie's love scene inside, and I couldn't think of a more romantic location for it. The film had so much promise, especially considering how much care and detail went into it, and I couldn't wait to see how it turned out. I might not be able to see it at the cast premiere in L.A., but I’d see it somewhere…with my new face.
The excitement in the air was palpable all day. Everyone was gearing up for the wrap-up party at the hotel tonight, and I heard the production team had spared no expense. Unlimited champagne, gourmet hors d'oeuvres, and even a chocolate fountain. I'd never been personally fond of chocolate fountains, but even if I was, my excitement was dampened by the realization that the end of this movie was also the end of my life as Megan Redfield. By the time my name rolled on the credits, I'd be someone else. That thought was terrifying.
“Hey girl,” Allison said, strolling up beside me as I fixed the curtains inside the cabin. “Why so blue?”
“Huh?” I asked, pretending I had no idea what she was talking about. I kept rearranging the fabric even though it was good enough now, just so she wouldn't see my face.
“You've been dragging your feet around all day like a kid about to throw a tantrum.” She gently pulled my hands away from the curtains and turned me to face her. “Is everything okay?”
I wanted to tell her that ‘no, everything was most certainly not okay,’ but I couldn't. Not when there was so much at stake. I had to pretend as though I was looking forward to going back to L.A. with the rest of the crew, when really, I was planning to slip away unnoticed and disappear.
“Everything's fine.” I offered her a bright smile. “I guess I'm just a bit burnt out. It's been a long shoot.”
“Pfft, not really.” Allison held up her arm in front of my face for inspection. “I'm not nearly as tanned as I hoped I would get. If our schedule was a little less breakneck, I would have had time to get down to the beach and soak up some color. I've been thinking about staying here for a few more days after tomorrow. What do you think?”
I blanched. “Why are you asking what I think?”
Allison chuckled and smacked me on the arm. “Because you seem like you're having similar thoughts, silly. I'm asking if you want to take a little mini-vacation with me, once this is all wrapped up. We've got a break before we start shooting the next film. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.”
“Haven't you, you know, gotten a bit tired of the Bahamas?” I asked, feigning disinterest in her plan. “It's always so hot and humid here. You can just as easily get a tan back home. It's not like we live in the Arctic.”
“Ack, you've got me.” She let out a deflating sigh. “I just don't want to go back home. Can you blame me? It has been so peaceful these past six weeks. No smog. No traffic. No Hollywood drama or hustle and bustle. Can you honestly tell me you haven't thought about how nice it would be to stay?”
“No, I have.” I thought about it every day. I didn't love L.A. the way some people did. I'd thought about moving up to Vancouver to get involved in their film industry more than once, but I was also too scared to go out on such a limb for a place that I had no connections in.
“Then let's do it.” Allison grabbed me by the elbow and started dragging me toward the back door of the cabin. The director was shouting for people to clear the room. “Let's stay here for a little while longer. Drink mojitos, get a nice tan, maybe meet some cute guys to spend our days with.”
It sounded like a lot of fun, and I was incredibly tempted. Too bad I already had plans to wipe away my existence and start over with my criminal mastermind sister. Scratch that—just criminal. If Chelsea was a mastermind, she never would have ended up on my hotel room couch with a suitcase full of stolen money and no plans.
“I can't.” We emerged onto the sunny shore, where people had already begun packing up equipment in anticipation of finishing filming. “I've got stuff I have to do back home.”
“Stuff?” Allison gasped dramatically. “Not stuff! Anything but stuff.” I rolled my eyes and gave her a flat, unimpressed smirk.
Then again, if Allison decided to stay, what did that mean for the surgery? Was I going to have to pretend to leave, then hide from her the res
t of my time here? It was a big enough island to do so, but it would be a pain in the ass.
“I'm sorry, Allison. I really wish I could.” She would never know how much I wished that I could, how much I wished that my life were as simple as it had been only a few days ago.
“Fine.” She sighed. “I suppose I can accept that other people have plans in their lives that don't always match up with mine. You're going to the wrap party, right? It's going to be wild. I hear there's going to be a whole roasted pig.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. “That seems unnecessary.”
Allison shrugged and shot me a cheeky wink. “If you say so.”
The sun was just beginning to make its slow descent into the sea by the time the director called cut for the last time. I still wasn't ready to go yet, but I couldn't quite place why.
Then I saw him, chatting to one of the production assistants, who was halfway in one of the Jeeps and ready to go. Joel was looking especially handsome today in a crisp, white linen shirt and light gray shorts. The wind played with his chocolate waves, tossing them around his forehead.
Without meaning to, I'd been waiting for him. Why? Did I want to talk to him? Did I want to hang out with him? I didn't know. What I did know, was that there was something magnetic about the young doctor that had kept me in his orbit all day. Now, as the day was winding to a close, I wondered how much longer I could wait before the need to talk to him overwhelmed me.
“Hey, you,” Allison said, strolling up behind me and smacking me on the shoulder. “Whatcha lookin' at?”
I blinked and turned to face her so quickly I felt dizzy. “Nothing. Just spacing out.”
“Want to space out in the car instead? We're heading out now. Stay much longer and you’ll miss the start of the party.”
I glanced toward the line of cars parked down the drive and realized that half of them had left already. I knew I should go with Allison, but the desire to talk to Joel, alone, gave me pause. I had my own car, after all. I could be right behind her.