Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1)

by Mary Crawford

  Tristan smiles kindly at me as he responds, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you will. I think the upside will far outweigh any turmoil this might cause. There’s no easy way to start this conversation, so I’ll just start explaining to you what I found, if that’s all right.”

  I nod in agreement as I confirm, “Yes, I want you to tell me the truth. Don’t sugarcoat stuff for me because you don’t think I can handle it. I’m tougher than I look.”

  “I’ll be as straightforward as I can,” Tristan assures me. “If I know something, I’ll tell you. If I don’t know something, I’ll tell you that too.”

  I breathe a small sigh of relief. I’m so used to people trying to overprotect me that it’s refreshing to have someone not treat me with kid gloves.

  “Great! Now that we’ve established the ground rules, what did you actually find?” I ask, feeling impatient now that I’ve finally made the decision to move forward.

  Tristan pulls a picture out of the file. Before he hands it to me he states, “I can say with almost one hundred percent certainty that this is not a case of cat-fishing.”

  A wave of relief washes over me. I’ve just seen so many stories on the news recently that the whole idea of it just completely creeps me out. “That’s a major relief,” I confess.

  “I actually don’t think there’s any identity fraud involved at all. I think it just involves a computer glitch at BrainsRSexy.com,” Tristan explains.

  “They accidentally created two profiles for me?” I ask, confused. “But how did they come up with this Rogue person?”

  Tristan rakes his fingers through his short cropped wavy hair as he says in a halting voice, “I apologize, Ivy, I’m doing a really bad job of explaining this. Let me back up.”

  Tristan hands me a glossy picture. With the exception that her clothes, which are edgier than what I typically wear, it’s like looking in a mirror. I pull the picture closer and focus in on her face. For some reason, I still feel the need to rule out that it’s not some bizarre Photoshopped image of me, yet the small scar that I received in youth soccer camp in the sixth grade is not there. Most people don’t even know where to look for it. It’s not an obvious scar, it just makes my eyebrows grow in a slightly different pattern. As my brain processes this new information, my hands start to shake and I start to hyperventilate.

  The guy sitting at the next table jumps up and grabs a bag of prepackaged croissants. He dumps them out on his table and folds the top down a couple of turns. He gently holds it to my face. “That’s it Sugar. Take a deep breath in through your nose and blow it out. You can do it,” he urges.

  Wow. I could listen to that voice all day. It’s deep, rough, and wildly hypnotic. “Okay,” I wheeze.

  “Slower,” he softly commands as he demonstrates how he wants me to breathe. As I subconsciously follow his lead, his lips curl up in a sexy smile. “Much better. How are you feeling?” he asks.

  I perform a brief self-inventory. I’m not feeling as lightheaded and my lips are no longer numb. I blush when I realize other people in the restaurant are watching our table with rapt attention. The cute rock-star dude looks around to see why I’m blushing. “Oh, don’t worry about them. It’s a slow news day on Twitter. I’m more worried about you.”

  I laugh at his attempt to get my mind off of my situation. I really appreciate him trying to make it less awkward for me. “I’m feeling better — thanks to you.”

  He gives a self-deprecating shrug and says, “I’m just glad I could help. Have a nice day.”

  I watch wistfully as he walks away, his tight jeans showcasing a very fine backside.

  Jessica kicks me under the table as she asks, “Are you just going to let him walk away?”

  I shrug and roll my eyes as I reply, “Well, yeah. What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey Dude! Thanks for saving my life. Oh by the way, I think you’re really cute. Here are my digits in case you need ‘em.’ Besides, I’ve got bigger issues to deal with right now.”

  Jessica just shakes her head in disbelief. “No wonder you’re still single. You’ve literally got cute guys falling out of the sky into your lap and you keep throwing them away,” she muses. “Can I have your leftovers?”

  “Whatever!” I scoff. “Knock yourself out. Of course for that to work I’d actually have to have leftovers….”

  Tristan shuffles some papers and I remember the real reason we’re here. The five thousand pound elephant in the room. Who in the world is Rogue? I look at Tristan and hand him the picture. “This isn’t me,” I declare.

  Tristan maintains my gaze as he responds, “I know. That’s what my investigation uncovered. The person in that picture is a woman named Rogue Medea Cisneros Betancourt. She’s a part-time college student here in Florida and she’s an apprentice at a tattoo shop where she’s learning to become a tattoo artist. We have every reason to believe that she might actually be your twin.”

  “My what?” I sputter. “How is that possible? I was in the hospital for months when I was born. There wasn’t another baby there; they would’ve told my mom.”

  “I don’t know how it happened exactly. There are some details that don’t quite match up. For instance, your birthdate doesn’t match Rogue’s. I don’t know if that’s just a record-keeping snafu or what, but there are other coincidences that are just too overwhelming to overlook.”

  I’m completely blown away. I’ve always wanted a sister. I used to spend hours pretending that I was talking to her—even years after it was cool or socially acceptable for me to continue to do so. It got to the point where my mom considered getting me professional help, so I stopped telling her about it. I just internalized the conversations in my head. I just accepted that maybe I was a little shy of crazy. Sometimes I would experience unexplained feelings of loneliness or fear even when I was with a group of friends, doing things that I liked to do. When I got old enough to go to the library on my own, I did research and figured that perhaps I was having premonitions. Like all kids who are adopted, I used to dream that I had another family out there somewhere. I even went as far as naming them. But never in a million years did I even imagine that I might have a twin. If it’s true, it would explain so much.

  Still, I’m afraid to hope just yet. “Could she just be somebody who looks like me?” I inquire, desperate to remove any doubt. “You know how they say that everybody has a doppelgänger?”

  “There’s an outside possibility of that I suppose,” Tristan admits. “But in your case, there are too many other collateral things which match up. For example, Rogue independently, before ever meeting you, chose the same user name and password as you did to sign up for the dating site. That’s what caused your dating profiles to be merged. This is a weird glitch in the dating site’s software that they need to address, but that’s not your problem.”

  Jessica and I suck in our breaths as the information sinks in.

  “There are other similarities as well. You both listed the same hometown and hospital as your place of birth. That’s why the different birthdates threw me off. Don’t ask me how, but Rogue seems to empathically know about all of your struggles with your lungs as a child. It’s almost as if she felt them herself. I never breathed a word.”

  I bury my face in my hands as I start to cry. This is what I’ve always dreamed of but never thought I could have. I wonder what Lenore is going to think of this. When I can collect myself I whisper to Tristan, “Does she want to meet me?”

  I grip the edge of the table and close my eyes as I steel myself against rejection. What if she has no intention of ever meeting me? Maybe she doesn’t want to have a sister. I wonder if she was adopted too. This whole scenario is so surreal. People write soap operas about this kind of stuff, and now it’s my life.

  Tristan touches my hand as he says, “I don’t know if you’re ready for this today, but Rogue is here if you’d like to meet her,” he offers.

  I look around the restaurant. Hot Rock Dude Guy is studying me intently with a worried loo
k on his face, but I don’t see Rogue anywhere. I glance back at Tristan with a confused expression on my face. “Here…today…now?” I wheeze as my ability to speak seems to have abandoned me.

  Tristan nods as he responds, “Yes, she’s been waiting in my rig. Marcus can go get her. She’s probably as tied up in knots as you are right now.”

  I’m completely befuddled. My brain feels like it’s made from Jello. I’ve got thoughts attacking me from every angle, so I decide to work backwards. “Who’s Marcus? Why has Rogue been sitting in the car this whole time? It’s like a thousand degrees outside. Do you know what weather like this does to our hair when we’re all sweaty?” I ask, immediately regretting my stupid observation.

  Over at the next table, the guy who helped me with my meltdown earlier lets out a bark of laughter as he says, “If I had any doubt before, I don’t now. You are so Rogue’s sister. I would bet you that Ro’s in the car griping about the same thing. She hates her hair with a passion.”

  I arch an eyebrow at him as I say, “I’m sorry but I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Ivy Montclair.”

  Hot Rock Star Dude grasps my hand and shakes it as he says, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Marcus Brolen. I’m the BFF. I’m also technically Rogue’s boss, but mostly I’m her BFF.”

  I’m surprised at how disappointed I am to find out that Rogue has already staked a claim on Marcus. I was feeling mad chemistry with him which is kind of unusual for me. My aloofness with guys was the impetus for the misadventure that started this whole thing, but I don’t poach anyone else’s guy.

  I politely shake his hand and say, “I look forward to getting to know both you and Rogue better.”

  “Awesome! Let me go get her before she goes any more stir crazy waiting,” Marcus says as he winks at me.

  That’s really odd. Why would he be flirting with me when his girlfriend is sitting out in the car? Men are so weird.

  As I watch him leave, Tristan asks me how I feel about all of this. Since his question is so off-the-cuff, I don’t really take the time to filter my thoughts and I say the first thing that enters my mind, “I guess it explains a lot of stuff about my childhood. I’m really relieved that I’m not as crazy as I thought I was.”

  Tristan is watching me carefully like he’s afraid I’m going to have another episode.

  “I’m not sure how much my mom knew about all of this, but it might explain why she never encouraged me to look for my birth parents. I always felt like there should’ve been somebody by my side and there wasn’t. I always felt this profound sense of loneliness. My mom said it was because I was an only child, but I had other friends who were only children and they didn’t seem to feel the same sense of loss as me, so I decided I must be nuts. I guess what I feel is a mixture of fear and relief.”

  Tristan’s smile grows wider the longer I continue to talk. When I finish, he comments, “Would it make you feel any better if I told you that Rogue said almost the exact same thing?”

  In a strange way, it really does make me feel better, but conversely, it also makes me feel worse because I remember those feelings of isolation like it was yesterday. I hope that Rogue had a supportive family around her to help her through the rough years.

  Through the window, I catch a glimpse of Rogue coming into the restaurant. Marcus has his arm around her in a protective manner. A feeling of envy hits me like a sledgehammer. I’d like to be sheltered in his arms. I mentally shake myself. What a ludicrous thought! I barely know the man. I watch in total fascination as another version of me walks into the restaurant and up to the table.

  It’s the singularly most bizarre thing I’ve experienced in my entire life. Rogue is like a shinier, new and improved version of me. Her hair is bouncier, her complexion is clearer, and her smile is brighter. She moves with confidence and her fashion sense is impeccable. I am beyond intimidated.

  It’s like watching a mythical character. When she gets close to our table, Tristan reaches out his hands. Rogue grasps both of them with hers. Tristan kisses her knuckles and whispers, “Are you ready for this?”

  Rogue nods as she murmurs, “I hope so. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.”

  Tristan nods as he replies, “Just remember, I’m here if you need me.”

  Marcus exhales loudly as he teases, “Is it just me, or do these two need to get a room or something?”

  Tristan playfully cuffs Marcus upside the head as he chides him, “I thought we already established that I do not need your help. I’ve got this. Go find your own girl.”

  Jessica and I look at each other. At least she’s as confused as I am. It’s kind of like watching a weird sporting event at the Olympics where you think you know the rules but they turn out to be something else entirely.

  Rogue turns her attention to me.

  “Wow! This is totally freaky. It’s like meeting the classy, refined version of me,” she gushes. “You’re everything I wish that I could be. You’re like the new and improved version of me. How spooky is that?”

  I snort as I break out into peals of laughter, “Are you kidding me?” I ask. “I was just thinking how much prettier you are than me. You’re everything I’m not. You’re bold, sassy and confident with a sense of style.”

  Marcus turns to Tristan and comments dryly, “Well, these two are going to be fun on a double date; they even laugh the same. I wonder if Ivy can sing as well as Rogue. Rogue likes to pretend that she can’t sing, but secretly she’s got mad skills.”

  At that moment, Jessica chooses to pipe up, “Oh my gosh! So does Ivy, but she won’t sing in front of anybody. She does this amazing Pink song.”

  “I don’t know but the researchers will have fun studying it and everything else,” Tristan remarks.

  Jessica and Marcus don’t seem to notice his offhand comment as they yell, “Karaoke night!” in unison.

  I look over at Rogue and ask her, “Are your friends as disloyal as mine? This one seems to have made a sport out of throwing me under the bus,” I observe as I point to Jessica.

  “Hey is it my fault that someone has to tell the truth in your life? I just happen to be that person. Don’t kill the messenger just because you don’t like the message. Besides, karaoke night sounds like a blast, except who would I go with since everyone here is paired off?”

  “Excuse me? Exactly who am I paired off with? Did I miss something?” I protest.

  Jessica rolls her eyes at me as she replies, “Remember that whole discussion about hot guys falling in your lap? Marcus is exhibit A. He’s been drooling over you since he walked in the room. How do you not notice this stuff?” Jessica turns her attention to the other people at the table. “Would you believe that she’s a near genius in some areas of her brain? But for some reason, she can’t seem to read the signals that for others are abundantly clear.”

  I’m starting to feel really embarrassed and defensive as I argue, “I don’t know that it’s all that obvious. Marcus shouldn’t be trying to date me if he’s already dating Rogue.”

  Marcus touches my shoulder as he somberly states, “Ivy, I thought I made it clear when I introduced myself that I’m Rogue’s best friend and her boss. We are nothing more. We haven’t ever been anything more and never plan to be anything more. We just don’t have that kind of relationship.”

  I look to Rogue for confirmation. She shrugs as she says, “It’s true. He is a great guy and totally hot, but it would be like sleeping with my brother.”

  I try to process this new piece of information. “Wow…umm…Okay…” I stammer. “That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. You’ll have to give me a minute to process all of it.”

  Jessica interrupts my thought process as she says, “While you’re thinking on that, who should I take to this little shindig?”

  Rogue and I look at each other and immediately say, “Mitch."

  Tristan and Marcus look very confused.

  “Mitch is the business major who does search and rescue on the sid
e,” I explain to the guys.

  Rogue turns to Jessica and starts to dish more details, “I have to tell you, I was on a Skype chat with this guy. His profile pictures don’t do him justice. The man has muscles on his muscles—but only in the best way. You can tell he got them by working every day. His dog is amazing and he trained her from the time he rescued her as a puppy from the shelter. I think you guys will probably hit it off.”

  Jessica grins as she replies, “Shoot, I saw the man’s profile pictures. If he’s better than that in real life, I might turn into a charcoal briquette when I see him in person. But if you guys are willing to risk that, I’m game.”

  Tristan claps his hands together as he says, “Wonderful, now that we’ve got everybody’s dating life straight, I think Ivy and Rogue should talk. Maybe the rest of us can grab a bite to eat and make ourselves scarce.”

  “I appreciate the offer Tristan, but you don’t have to leave on my account. My life is so boring that no one will be interested in the dark, gory details,” I answer with a chuckle.

  Rogue abruptly says, “Show me your left ankle.”

  I shrug in confusion but comply. My sundress is pretty long so I pull it up a little to give her a clear view of my ankle.

  Marcus notices that my thin sandal straps cross my ankle twice. He gestures toward my foot and asks me, “Do you mind?”

  Mutely I shake my head, suddenly powerless to speak. What is it about this man that I find so arresting?

  Marcus kneels down to unbuckle my shoe. When he sees my toenails, he voices his approval, “Very nice—sexy and classy all at once.” I had completely forgotten that I’m wearing bright red toenail polish with a crystal embellishment on each big toe.

  “Thanks,” I say as I blush as bright as my nail polish.

  I freeze in place when his fingers brush my ankle as he carefully unbuckles the dainty straps. An unexpected tingle surges up my leg when he touches me. I wonder if it’s just a fanciful figment of my imagination until I muster up the nerve to glance at Marcus.

  He looks as stunned as I feel. I watch with fascination as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in seemingly slow motion. I notice that his hands have started to tremble. But, the moment is over quite literally in the blink of an eye. As Marcus takes a deep breath and blinks, his whole expression changes. He turns to Rogue and asks her, “ Hey, I wonder if Ivy is as ticklish as you are?”