by Debbie Mason
“This is the last time I’m doing this, Ty,” he mimicked her voice, then nudged her with his elbow. “You’re lucky I know you so well or I wouldn’t have brought extensions to match your hair color.”
“Extenuating circumstances. It doesn’t look like Chloe’s friend is going to live much longer. I couldn’t say no,” she lied. She trusted Ty to have her back, but not her sister’s.
He rolled out of bed wearing Chloe’s pink satin pajamas and stretched. “Color me shocked. I didn’t know Chloe had any friends.”
She didn’t. Her sister was too busy clawing her way to the top to make time for anyone. Anyone other than Cat. Despite their problems of late, Cat had always known her sister was there for her. When the story about Michael broke, Chloe had immediately flown to Denver. She’d handled the press and the never-ending phone calls, making sure Cat got out of bed and ate when all she’d wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide under the covers.
“Don’t be bitchy,” Cat said to Ty and headed to the en-suite bathroom. “I’m going to grab a quick shower.”
“Your sister may not be my favorite person, but I will say one thing for her, she has exquisite taste in clothes.” He stood at Chloe’s closet, looking like he was having an orgasmic experience as he drew a silver lamé gown from its hangar.
“I’ll be checking your makeup bag before you leave, buddy.” It was the size of a suitcase.
“I’m a tactile gay man, not a cross-dresser.” He waggled his eyebrows and smoothed his hand down the pajama top. “But I may have to steal these. I never knew how divine it was to sleep in satin.”
Cat rolled her eyes, closing the bathroom door behind her. While she showered, Ty shoved outfits through the pink plastic curtain for her inspection. He’d taken it upon himself to dress her for the Christmas bazaar today. She’d tried to get out of attending, but the publicist was adamant that Chloe and Harry make an appearance. Cat had a feeling she’d be developing another migraine before the end of the day. Fooling the cast and crew was one thing, fooling the people she knew and loved another.
Slipping on Chloe’s leopard-print robe, Cat tied the sash and stepped from the steam-filled bathroom. She frowned at the sight of Ty slumped in the pink slipper chair with a high school yearbook cradled in his hands. “What’s up?”
“Have you seen this?” He flipped to the autograph page and held it up. “Cruel little bastards. Tell me you beat them up.”
Cat walked over, took the book from him, and sat on the edge of the bed. It was Chloe’s tenth-grade yearbook. “Where did you get this? I was sure I threw it out.”
Ty jerked his thumb to the hundreds of books lining the white shelves behind him. “Top shelf. I feel sorry for her now. I know what it’s like to have kids make fun of you. It hurts. You lose your self-respect and sense of self-worth. Takes a long time to get it back. Some of us never do.” He took off his glasses, wiping the lenses with a corner of the pajama top.
Cat could tell he was embarrassed. And while she gave him a moment, her eyes went back to the yearbook. Chloe must have taken it out of the trash the day Cat had thrown it away. She didn’t understand why Chloe would do that, because Ty was right. The kids had been cruel, taunting Chloe about her weight, her glasses, her headgear and braces.
Cat ran her finger over the hurtful comments as though she could erase them. “I didn’t beat anyone up. Easton McBride did. He ended up being suspended for a week.” And becoming Chloe’s hero. “I found more creative ways to get back at the girls.” She smiled at the memory of her payback, then raised her gaze to Ty. “I hope someone stuck up for you.”
“No, they would have been beaten up if they did. You don’t stick up for the geeky gay guy unless you want everyone to think you’re gay, too.”
She nudged his foot with hers. “I would have.”
“I know you would.” He gave her a small smile that broadened as he motioned for the yearbook. When she handed it to him, he flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He pointed to a picture of Easton McBride. “And no offense, but if I had to pick a white knight, it would be him, not you. That boy is beautiful. Look at those shoulders and neck, that cleft chin, those eyes.”
“Can’t say I blame you.” Easton had been white knight material even back then.
Ty cast her a hopeful look. “He wouldn’t happen to be gay, would he?”
“Sorry, pal. Straight as they come. Ex–Special Forces and former CIA operative. He works for his brother Chance now. They have a security firm in Christmas.”
“Be still my heart. You mean there’s a chance I will see this man in the flesh?”
“Yep, and you should prepare yourself because all the McBride men are hot.”
“I think I may just move here.”
“And straight.” She laughed when he threw up his arms with a dramatic sigh. “Come on.” She took his hand, pulling him from the chair. “If I’m supposed to be ready by one, we better get started.”
She sat on the pink-cushioned stool while Ty unloaded the contents of his bag onto the small antique table in front of her. “Too bad you cut your hair. All we’d have to do is your makeup. And I have to tell you, after seeing your class photo, I don’t understand how you could cut those gorgeous, long locks. Your hair was even more beautiful than your sister’s with that loose, natural curl. Poor Chloe, it must have been horrible growing up with you as a sister.”
“Hey, I was a great sister. And we’re identical twins, so…” She trailed off at his arched eyebrow.
“Your sister didn’t keep only her tenth-grade yearbook. She has yours, too.” He nodded at a second blue book by the chair. “Head cheerleader, top in your class, voted most beautiful and most likely to succeed. And from the number of people who signed your yearbook, most popular, too. You were a tough act to follow.”
“What can I say, I peaked early.” Wasn’t that the truth, and a depressing one at that. “Chloe was a late bloomer. She came into her own in twelfth grade.” And pretty much ruined Cat’s life. Maybe she was being overly dramatic, but that’s how it felt to her eighteen-year-old self.
There was a polite rap on the bedroom door. “Chloe, is everything all right in there?”
Cat’s startled gaze met Ty’s in the mirror. She couldn’t risk Harry seeing her without the extensions in and makeup on. More importantly, he couldn’t know Ty was here. Harry wouldn’t buy that he’d arrived this morning without him seeing him. “Yes.” She cleared her throat, and mimicked her sister’s voice, “Everything’s fine, Harry.”
Ty covered his mouth with both hands, hair blower in one, his eyes filling with laughter. She lightly swatted his arm.
“You’re positive, are you? Because I could have sworn I heard a man’s voice.”
She scowled at Ty, then forced a tinkling laugh from her lips. “That was just me going over an upcoming scene. I like to do both parts. It helps me get into character.”
“Oh, I see.”
She could tell from his skeptical tone that he didn’t. Which wasn’t a surprise because it was a lame excuse. “You should try it—”
“—sometime, it’s quite effective,” Ty finished for her in a disturbing voice. He shrugged when she gave him a what-the-hell look.
“It’s an… interesting idea. I’ll let you get back to it.” She heard the sound of his retreating footsteps, then, “I’m about to make breakfast if you’d care for something to eat.”
“Yes—” Ty began, and Cat reached up to cover his mouth while giving him a shut-it glare. “On second thought, I’m running late. I’ll grab something at the church bazaar,” she said as the beginnings of a tension headache blossomed behind her eyes.
There were a few beats of silence before Harry said, “All right, then. I’ll see you in an hour.”
“Yes, I’ll—”
Ty cut her off. “Two. I’ll see you in two hours.”
As Harry’s footsteps faded down the hall, Cat turned on Ty. “What was that? One minute
you sounded like Pee-wee Herman, and the next Linda Blair in The Exorcist. And there’s no way it’s going to take two hours to—”
With an offended look, Ty turned on the hair dryer, blowing hot air in her face.
And he was right, it took two excruciatingly long hours to transform her into Chloe. She didn’t know how her sister stood it. Cat was practically jumping out of her skin when Ty finally proclaimed his work there was done. Then again, Chloe had fake nails, didn’t have extensions to put in, and, as Ty repeatedly informed Cat, her sister knew better than to go without sunscreen.
Cat tugged at the low neckline of the red cashmere sweater Ty had paired with a black pencil skirt that had a thigh-high slit. “Maybe I should wear a scarf.”
“For the tenth time, Chloe likes to flaunt her girls. And you’re supposed to be practicing your walk.” Looking up from packing away his supplies, he wiggled his finger. “Let me see.”
“Despite what you think, I’m perfectly capable of walking in high heels.”
He snorted as he zipped his bag. “Right, that’s why you nearly fell on your face two minutes ago. I hate to tell you this, but you drew the short stick when it comes to coordination. You’re a klutz.”
“I am not. A klutz wouldn’t be able to dive, flip on their back, and take down a shooter at twenty yards, now would they?”
His mouth twitched. “Okay, let me rephrase. You lack womanly grace.”
She sighed. He was right. If she wasn’t determined to discover who wanted her sister dead before she returned from London, Cat would pretend she had the flu and hole up in Chloe’s bedroom. “I’ll sit as much as possible.”
“Probably a good idea.” He dragged his bag toward the window. “Let’s hope Tall, Dark, and Fifty Shades of Gorgeous isn’t out for a stroll.”
Cat opened the window and stuck out her head, surveying the snow-covered grounds. Ty was going to sneak around to the front door on the pretext he’d come to do Chloe’s hair. He’d put the extensions in, but left them uncurled. “I’ll give you five minutes to make your way around the house.” Since he’d taken a cab last night, Cat had to be the one to answer the door, or Harry would wonder how Ty had gotten there.
Ty handed her his bag. She tossed it out the window. He stared at her, his mouth forming a horrified oh before he started yelling, “Are you crazy? That bag—”
She quickly covered his mouth. “Be quiet! He’ll hear—”
Ty ripped her hand away. “Do you know how expensive—”
There was an insistent knock on the door. “Chloe, what’s going on in there?”
“Nothing,” she and Ty said at almost the same time. She glared at him, then made a zip-it motion with her fingers and shoved him toward the window. “Just give me a minute, Harry. I’m not decent.”
Ty, shimmying out the window, hit his knee on the ledge and swore loudly. Cat put a hand over her face, then banged on the wall in hopes of covering the noise, releasing a dramatic “Ouch.” At the sound of the doorknob jiggling, she whispered “Hurry up” to Ty, the top half of his body hanging out the window.
Her eyes widened when the door started to open. She turned back to Ty and pushed him the rest of the way out the window. Rolling onto his back in the snow, he stared up at her with a shocked expression on his face. “Pu…” His gaze moved to the man now standing beside her, and he covered his almost-slip by yelling, “Puta! You puta! I came to do your hair and this is how you treat me?”
Harry’s eyebrows drew together as he looked from Ty to Cat. “What’s going—”
She channeled her sister, throwing herself in his arms. “Oh, Harry, thank goodness you’re here. I was so scared. I thought he was a stalker.” She added a tremble to her voice, stroking the corded muscles of Harry’s back through his white dress shirt because that’s what Chloe would do, or so she told herself. And her sister would probably take advantage of the two open buttons at his neck to rest her cheek against his warm skin. He smelled of fresh linen and expensive cologne, and Cat thought how pretending to be her sister might not be so bad after all.
* * *
As Cat walked into the church hall with Dame Alexander’s arm looped through hers, she knew without a doubt that agreeing to trade places with Chloe had been a bad idea. Friends and neighbors looked up at their entrance, smiling and waving hello. Evelyn and Stella, wearing festive red aprons, stopped with white carafes in hand to curtsey. “Welcome, your ladyship. We’re honored you have graced us with your presence,” Stella said in a stilted voice.
“Yes, most honored. We have a special table set up for you.” Evelyn beamed, pointing out a white linen–draped table with a ceramic Santa centerpiece holding a British flag.
Dame Alexander looked down her aristocratic nose. If she said something snotty, Cat was going to step on her toe. “How thoughtful. Thank you for your hospitality. I’m sure Lord Harry will be as touched as I am.”
Cat would have relaxed if Estelle hadn’t thrown in the bit about Harry. His lordship had dropped them off at the church and was currently en route with Ty to the lodge. Her nerves returned at the thought of the two men alone in the SUV. Harry had seemed suspicious of her story earlier. As soon as he’d set Cat away from him, which he’d done rather too quickly for her liking, he’d peppered them with questions while reaching out a hand to Ty. Harry had hauled the other man through the window with an ease that left Cat admiring his strength and Ty panting. If Harry questioned Ty further, Cat was afraid he’d cave. But Ty didn’t seem concerned. Ignoring Cat’s silent messages of warning when they’d arrived at the church, he’d practically dragged her out of the Range Rover to take her place in the front seat beside Harry.
Cat dug in the pocket of her sister’s floor-length fur coat for her cell to text Ty. It pinged at the same time Stella said, “As soon as we serve our tables, we’ll come and take your orders.”
“Thanks, Stella, but you and Evelyn are busy. I can…” Cat paused at the look the two older women shared. “Is something wrong?” She squinched her right eye to see if the stupid fake eyelashes she wore had come unglued.
“No, we’re just surprised you know our names,” Stella said, and Evelyn nodded.
“Of course I do. I…” She trailed off, reminding herself she was Chloe, who could be as stuck-up as Dame Alexander. “We should probably take our seats. Fred and Ted are trying to get your attention.” The two older men reminded Cat of Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in Grumpy Old Men. Today they both had on red shirts and black bow ties. From the ticked-off looks they were giving each other, they hadn’t coordinated their attire on purpose.
“I think they’re trying to get mine.” Estelle preened, giving the men a royal wave. “I’ll just go over and say hello. I’ll meet you at the table, my dear.”
Evelyn and Stella shared another look, one Cat had no trouble reading. They might be thrilled to have royalty in their midst, but they weren’t thrilled that said royal was encroaching on their men. Out of the corner of her eye, Cat caught movement. Nell scooted from behind the table she manned, making her way toward them.
Wearing a red Rudolph sweater and antlers, she had a Santa hat and an apron in her hand. “Where’s Lord Harry?”
Cat relaxed. She’d been worried Nell was going to ask her to man her gingerbread table while wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron. Something she’d made Madison McBride do two years earlier in a bid to sell more cookies than Stella. The two friends had a long-standing competition, and Nell was a sore loser.
“Why do you want to know where his lordship is?” Stella asked with a suspicious look in her eyes.
Nell put her hands behind her back. “No reason.” She nodded at a table in the opposite corner of the room with an elaborate gingerbread house on display. “I hear you asked Dr. McSexy to work your table.”
“Yes, but he had an emergency. He’ll be here soon,” Stella said.
Nell grinned. Cat wouldn’t put it past her to have staged the emergency. And before either of them set their com
petitive little eyes on her, Cat decided to head for the table. “Well, ladies, I should probably take a seat before someone steals the table you kindly provided for us. The hall looks great, by the way.”
It did. They’d obviously put more effort than usual into the decorations. A large white tree wrapped in strands of blue lights stood on the stage, and silver snowflakes hung from the ceiling. The Christmas scenes decorating the walls were framed with cotton batten to look like snow while giant blow-up snowmen waved from the four corners of the hall.
The three older women stared at her. Nell was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. “We’ve asked you to attend three years in a row, and you always refuse.” An aha look broke across Nell’s face. “It’s because of Harry, isn’t it? You’re trying to put on a good show. Pretend you like your hometown. You’re a better actress than I gave you credit for. But even if you don’t like us, we appreciate what you’ve done for the town, don’t we, girls?”
What was wrong with her sister? How could she be so rude to the people she’d grown up around? Cat had her own aha moment. Obviously, Chloe was taking her past hurts out on the entire town. While Cat empathized with her sister, she didn’t like that people were thinking the worst of Chloe. “Don’t be silly, Nell. I love my hometown. I wouldn’t have suggested they film our holiday segments here if I didn’t, now would I? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to attend the Christmas bazaar. I’ll be sure to put it on my calendar for next year.” She smiled, furtively looking around the room for an excuse to make her escape. Her phone pinged again. “I better take this. Good luck to you both on the gingerbread sales.”
As she started to walk away, she heard Stella say, “It must be love. She’s never given us the time of day before.”
“Do you think so, Stella? I was so hoping it would be Cat and Harry. Oh well, it looks like you have the couple for your next book, Nell,” Evelyn said with a disappointed sigh.
“Time will tell, Evelyn. Time will tell.”
There was something in Nell’s voice that made Cat shoot a nervous glance over her shoulder. The older woman watched her with a speculative gleam in her eye, or was it a suspicious one? Cat didn’t have time to think about it. Phil had just entered the church hall with George and the publicity team.
