Silhouette - Dynasties - The Elliotts 04 -The Forbidden Twin

by Susan Crosby

  Her apartment seemed cavernous. She looked into Summer’s room, saw her luggage still unpacked.

  She sat on her sister’s bed, brushed her hands back and forth over the spread, then dragged a pillow into her arms and squeezed.

  Everything hurt—her head, her eyes, her throat. A cannonball had made a target of her stomach. Her heart pounded a painful rhythm that she could hear in her ears and feel everywhere else.

  All these years—all these damned years—they’d never let a man come between them. Some had tried to play games with them, but they’d been open and honest with each other, had avoided misunderstandings and arguments because of that directness.

  As soon as she’d realized John was interested in Summer, Scarlet had avoided him, so much so that Summer had asked if she even liked him. At least she had been able to answer honestly that she liked him just fine but that three was a crowd. Still, Scarlet had fallen in love even though she’d fought it every step of the way. Shoved it into a box until that night at his apartment—that amazing night that she’d never dared to hope would happen.

  She pushed Summer’s pillow against her face and screamed into it. Why had she gone to see him that night? Why had she let herself believe it would be okay to console him, to offer a friendly face? She’d known. In her heart, she’d known nothing good would come of her seeing him alone.

  And then she’d convinced herself she only wanted some good memories. Instead she’d hurt the person she loved most in the world, the one who loved her the most, too. Her sister, her best friend.

  And it all could’ve been avoided if she hadn’t been so selfish.

  Scarlet looked around the bedroom, decorated so differently from her own. Summer’s stamp was here—more feminine than Scarlet’s. More homey. Her love of antiques reflected their grandmother’s.

  Will you ever be back?

  Will you ever forgive me?

  She swiped her wet cheeks with her hands then picked up Summer’s bedside phone and dialed her cell number, knowing her sister wouldn’t answer it. She waited for the beep.

  “Summer—” her throat closed up for a couple of seconds “—there’s more to this situation than what you’re thinking. I’m not trying to excuse what I did, only to tell you why it happened. Please, I beg of you. If you won’t see me in person, at least call me. I…I love you.”

  She cradled the phone carefully, tossed back her hair and went to her own bedroom, closing the door on the empty room. She wouldn’t sleep, she already knew that, so she grabbed her sketch pad and curled up in her armchair, but it was as if the creative forces in her body had imploded, leaving only rubble.

  She tossed aside the pad, dragged her hands down her face and leaned her head against the back of her chair. The phone rang. She jumped up, answered it in the middle of the second ring.

  “Summer?”

  “No, it’s me.” John.

  Scarlet sank onto her bed.

  “I figured you’d still be up,” he said. “Want to talk?”

  “What is there to say?”

  “You need to give her time to adjust to the idea.”

  “If the situation was reversed, I wouldn’t adjust.”

  “Summer will.”

  “Meaning Summer is a better person than I am.” Like she hadn’t always known that.

  “I didn’t say that. You would adjust, too, but it might take you longer.”

  Scarlet thought she heard a smile in his voice. How could he be smiling?

  “But she’s in love and happy,” he continued. “And she loves you. It’s going to be fine. No one else knows, and she won’t tell anyone. Except Zeke, probably. You’ll get past it.”

  “How can you be so sure? Why are you so calm about this?” Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “I don’t think it’s worth getting worked up about.”

  “Not worth—” Scarlet couldn’t finish the sentence. “Well, that’s easy for you to say, John.” Not worth it? “I can’t talk to you anymore.”

  She hung up then curled into a ball on the bed. She’d regretted some of her actions before—small regrets, like immature choices she’d made or her constant attempts to annoy her grandfather.

  But all of them together didn’t add up to this.

  “Are you in mourning?” Jessie asked Scarlet the next day at work. “I’ve never seen you wear all black to work before.”

  Without having slept, Scarlet had gone into the office early, straight into her cubicle, and hadn’t emerged.

  “Did you need something?” Scarlet asked.

  “Touchy,” Jessie said, her brows raised. “This came for you. You’ve sure made somebody happy, to get so many presents.” She set a Tiffany’s box on Scarlet’s desk then strolled off.

  Scarlet had no interest in opening a gift from John. She set the box in her desk drawer and went back to work, wishing the time would fly and the lunch hour would come.

  At some point during the night she’d realized there was someone she could talk to—her cousin Bryan, the only person she was certain could take secrets to his grave. He’d had plenty of opportunities as they grew up to tell on her for things she’d done, misadventures he’d somehow ferreted out, but he never had.

  She planned to head to Une Nuit at lunchtime and talk to him, had already called to make sure he would be there. Not only would he keep her confidences, she could count on him for good advice.

  All morning long she reached for the desk-drawer handle then jerked her hand away and focused on work again. Every time footsteps approached her cubicle she hoped it was Summer. Scarlet had called her office, thinking maybe she’d come back to work today, but her voice-mail message still said she was out of town.

  Finally it was time to leave for Une Nuit. Gray skies and a cool spring shower dampened her hair and matched her mood as she grabbed a cab. When she walked into the restaurant her cell phone rang. She didn’t want to step back out into the rain to talk, but she didn’t want to miss a call from Summer, either, so she answered it.

  “Hey. I hope I caught you in time.” Not Summer but Bryan. It could only be bad news.

  “In time for what?” She looked around, saw Stash, who headed toward her. “I’m standing inside Une Nuit.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry, Scarlet. I had to leave. I’m on my way to the airport.”

  “Something that couldn’t have waited until after you saw me?” She was on the verge of panic. She’d needed to talk to someone, and Bryan was her only hope. “What could be so important it can’t wait for an hour?”

  A few beats passed, then he said, “I got a good line on a saffron plantation in Turkey.”

  Scarlet sighed. “Okay, I got it. It’s none of my business.”

  “I’ll call as soon as I get home, I promise. Or talk to me now, while I’m driving.”

  Stash stood patiently in front of her.

  “I can’t. It’s too complicated. And too personal.”

  “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll call you from the road, if I have time. In the meantime, have lunch on me.”

  Like she could eat. “Sure. Thanks.”

  “Later, Scar.” He hung up.

  She tucked the phone in her pocket, exchanged greetings with Stash, then looked around blindly, wondering what to do next.

  “You do not look well,” Stash said, concern in his eyes.

  “I’m okay. Just not sure what to do, since Bryan’s gone.” Eating alone was not an option. Eating wasn’t even an option this time.

  “Your cousin Cullen is in the Elliott booth. You could join him.” He touched her arm. “At least have some soup. Ginger carrot, one of your favorites.”

  She nodded, too tired to make conversation. She hoped Cullen was in a talkative mood. She wouldn’t mind just listening, being distracted.

  “Can I join you?” she asked Cullen, forcing a smile.

  “Um.” He looked past her, then at her again. “I’m expecting—”

  “Me.”

  From behind her, Scarlet hea
rd John’s voice, even imagined that she could feel his body heat.

  “So? Three for lunch, eh?” Stash asked cheerfully.

  “No.” Scarlet stumbled back a step, bumped into John.

  Cullen’s cell phone rang. He opened the phone then frowned at whatever number was displayed on the screen. He said hello tentatively.

  “I…I won’t interrupt your plans,” she said over her shoulder, feeling John’s hand on her back, keeping her steady. She just wanted to fall into his arms. She wanted to be held, and comforted and taken care of and soothed. She’d never wanted that before, never needed to be treated like such a…girl. She even forgot Summer for a moment. She wanted John.

  “What?” Cullen asked, his voice rising. “How is she?”

  Scarlet focused on Cullen, on the alarm in his voice.

  “Where’d they take her?…I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He snapped his phone shut and stood. “I can’t stay.”

  “What’s wrong?” Scarlet asked. Cullen was always in a good mood. Nothing ever seemed to faze him—until now. “Who’s hurt?”

  “No one you know.” He dropped his napkin onto the table. His gaze sought John. “Sorry. I appreciate you coming, but I need to get to Las Vegas.”

  “No problem. Anything I can do?”

  “I’ll let you know. Thanks.”

  He didn’t even say goodbye.

  John, Scarlet and Stash watched Cullen jog out of the restaurant.

  “I wonder if he and Bryan will run into each other at the airport,” Scarlet said, feeling sorry for Cullen without knowing why. She’d just never seen him as upset as that.

  “Join me for lunch,” John said to Scarlet.

  She shook her head.

  Stash made a quiet retreat.

  “We need to talk,” John said.

  “I can’t.” She took a few steps, then returned, getting close enough so that others around them couldn’t hear her. “And don’t send me any more presents.”

  He looked surprised. “I didn’t send you a present.”

  Then who had? Summer? Scarlet needed to get back to the office. Open the box.

  “Goodbye, John,” she said, hoping he heard the finality in her voice.

  If he said anything, she didn’t hear it. She made her way back to her office, pulled out the box, yanked off the ribbon, lifted the lid. Nestled inside was a hinged jeweler’s box, which creaked a little as she opened it. Inside was a beautiful gold choker in a modern serpentine design with red enamel accents.

  She scrambled to find the card, found it tucked underneath the necklace.

  Just a little something to show you how proud I am for what you’re doing—with your life and your work.

  Love, Granddad

  Scarlet put her head on her desk and cried.

  Fourteen

  S ummer stood framed in the hotel doorway, looking only slightly more rested than Scarlet had two days ago at Une Nuit. John was prepared to prevent Summer from shutting the door in his face, but she crossed her arms instead and glared at him.

  “How did you find me?” she asked, belligerence coating her words.

  It was the first time John thought the sisters seemed alike, the first time he’d seen real fire in Summer.

  “May I come in?” he said, not answering her question. He’d pulled strings and greased palms to track down Zeke’s Waldorf-Astoria suite.

  “I don’t think we have anything to say to one another,” she said.

  “Yeah, we do. It’s not like you to jump to conclusions.”

  “Oh? I have concluded that you and my sister slept together the night we broke our engagement, and have continued a relationship ever since. Is there some other conclusion?”

  “The night you broke our engagement,” he said quietly.

  Her face flushed. She started to close the door.

  He stopped it. “Look, Summer, I didn’t come here to rehash the past—our past—but because I’m worried about Scarlet. I would prefer not to have this conversation in the hall, but if I need to yell it through your closed door, I will. I figure if there were security people in your suite, they would’ve been all over me by now, so let’s just be civilized and talk in private.”

  After a few moments she stepped back in silent invitation. The enormous suite provided an unparalleled view. He waited for her to be seated, then sat across from her. “Where’s Zeke?”

  “Out.”

  “You know, you’re acting pretty self-righteous for someone who slept with another man while you were engaged.”

  “It isn’t anything I’m proud of, and you know it. And I also didn’t carry on for two months in secret. I told you right away. I also tried to explain. As soon as I met Zeke…You know all this, John.”

  “You know why Scarlet couldn’t tell you about us.”

  “And you’re looking for what from me? Acceptance? Approval?”

  “I don’t give a damn how you feel about me. I don’t want anything for myself.” He leaned toward her. “But you need to talk to your sister. She’s falling apart. She’s not sleeping. She looks…haunted.”

  Summer pushed herself out of her chair and walked stiffly to the window, but not before he saw concern in her eyes.

  “Do you plan to continue your relationship with her?” she asked.

  “All I want is for you to reconcile with her.”

  “Do you love her or were you using her to get back at me?”

  He came up beside her. What he felt for Scarlet was more real and powerful than what he’d felt for Summer, but he wouldn’t tell her that. “I’ve learned a lot about myself recently,” he said instead, “and I’ve come to understand what must have happened to you when you met Zeke. I now know I wasn’t as engaged emotionally as I should have been or I probably wouldn’t have been content with your insistence on abstinence before the wedding.”

  “And my sister more than made up for that. A good substitute, was she?”

  “None of this had anything to do with you.” It ticked him off that Summer wasn’t seeing the whole picture, but he didn’t rise to the bait, knowing it was the only way for her to understand what was happening—that Scarlet needed her. “You learned a few truths yourself when you met Zeke. Do you regret anything?”

  She shook her head.

  “You caused a small scandal,” he reminded her. He didn’t need to detail what happened, but it sat there between them, still a little raw. She’d not only ended their engagement in less than three weeks, she’d taken up with a rock star, publicly, happily. It had been a lot for John to swallow.

  “You don’t think this would be scandalous, John? For you and my sister to be together? Don’t you know how that would look?”

  “I’m only interested in getting the two of you back on speaking terms. Nothing else.”

  “She has hurt our grandfather so many times with things she’s done. Not big hurts, mind you, but things done just to irritate him. This would be huge. He might not ever forgive her. And just when they’re finally starting to get along.”

  “There is no reason for Patrick to ever know.”

  She went completely still. “It’s over between you?”

  “Yes.” Scarlet would never have anything to do with him again. He knew that without a doubt.

  Summer was quiet for a long time. John had nothing more to say.

  “Does she love you?” she asked. “Does she know what you’re willing to sacrifice?”

  He slipped his hand in his pocket and fingered his house key, which she’d returned to him by messenger that morning. In the box was a tiny piece of paper. She’d written on it, “Goodbye.”

  “There’s no sacrifice,” he said. “It’s done. If I can look past what you did, surely you can look past what she did. We were going to end it that night, before you came home. You should’ve never found out. She was insistent, even though I wanted to continue. She was afraid that someone would catch us, and she would never do that to you.”

  “I’ll think about
it,” she said after a little while.

  But John knew she would go see Scarlet and they would make up. Maybe their relationship would change some, but it had been changing anyway since Summer’s engagement to Zeke. John hadn’t fully understood the bond between twins before, but he did now. That sibling relationship was like no other.

  The distinctive sound of a key card preceded the hotel door opening. Zeke Woodlow came in, saw them together and headed toward them. He put his arm around Summer then extended a hand to John.

  “I hope you had better luck than I did convincing her to see her sister,” Zeke said.

  Any small irritation he’d harbored for the man dissolved. John liked his directness, as well as his obvious love for Summer. “I tried.”

  “She can be stubborn.”

  John refrained from saying, “She can?” He’d never seen her stubborn, or pushy, or demanding—all those things he enjoyed about Scarlet. “Those Elliott women,” John said instead.

  Zeke smiled.

  John focused on Summer. “I wish you only the best.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “That means a lot.”

  John walked out the door and went home to his empty apartment, where every nook and cranny held a memory of Scarlet Elliott.

  Scarlet pushed her sewing machine foot pedal to full speed. She was making new drapes for her bedroom, something that would suit the house from the outside but blend with the contemporary interior. This was the fourth and final panel. In the past few days she’d worked at Charisma all day then sewed at night until she fell asleep with her head on the sewing machine table.

  As for food—what was that? Toast and tea was about all she could stomach.

  She came to the end of the eight-foot-long seam, shoved the pressure-foot lever into reverse, then stopped and snipped off the excess thread, the motion automatic, mindless.

  The ensuing silence was horrific. Her CDs must have played out. She rolled her head, trying to relieve the ache in her shoulders, then stood, intending to start up the music again.

  Summer was standing just inside the doorway.

  Hope gathered strength inside Scarlet, a whirlwind of optimism, a powerful need.