by Liz Fenton
“He’s a great catch,” John says with a twinkle in his eye. “They say he’s going to make the All-CIF team this year. And that he’s being scouted by USC and Michigan.”
“I know!” I feign excitement before carefully adding, “I just hope Audrey’s not so awestruck by him that she makes bad decisions.” I look at him hard, trying to snap him out of his man crush.
He holds my gaze. “I thought you were the one who was pushing this whole dating thing. Now you’re against it all of a sudden?”
“No! Not at all,” I backtrack. “I still agree that Audrey should be dating. But I’m just questioning whether Chris is the guy she should be dating,” I say, thinking back to the queasy feeling I had in my stomach when he smirked at me, hoping I’m just being paranoid.
“He gave me his word as a man that he would treat her with respect. And I believe him.”
I had forgotten how seriously John considered someone’s promise. Never one for contracts, he was always a let’s shake on it kind of guy. Not exactly popular in today’s overly litigious society, he believed that a person’s word was the most important promise he could give. It was something that had always infuriated Rachel but that I found endearing, and I caught myself smiling at his faith in Chris. Maybe I should have some too.
“Okay,” I concede. “I’m just excited to take her shopping for her formal dress!”
John frowns. “Just promise me you’ll stay off Robertson Boulevard this time?” he asks, referring to the area famous for its designer brands and ridiculous prices.
Even though he’d explained his concerns, it still felt odd to have to answer to anyone about how I spent money. I’d done well for myself, especially since getting my hosting gig on Gossip TV, and I made sure to put enough away so I could live comfortably when they decided I was too old to be in front of the camera.
“Casey offered to pay for it when I told her Audrey was going,” I say, deciding that’s easier than dealing with John’s rage when I bring home a thousand-dollar dress. Because you only get one first formal dance, and I am determined to be the fairy godmother to Audrey’s Cinderella.
“Where has Little C been anyway? Out of town?” John asks.
“She’s been in New York,” I say, not wanting to talk about Rachel. Not wanting to think about our fight, the harsh words we both said. How this body-swapping thing has only driven us further apart. Wondering again what the point of it all has been. And if we ever switch back, will we be able to stay friends?
“New York! Wow, that girl, she really gets to live the life.”
“I don’t think her life is all it’s cracked up to be,” I respond lightly and turn to stare at the view.
“Hey, are you feeling jealous again? Is this because she finally beat Access L.A.?” He laughs sheepishly, and then catching the confused expression on my face, adding, “I do read the entertainment section occasionally.”
Jealous? Again? Was Rachel jealous of me?
“I’m not jealous,” I say defensively. “Why in the world would I be jealous? I’ve got a husband, a family. I’ve never even had to hold down a real job!” I regret the words the minute they leave my mouth. I know now that being home with three kids is probably the hardest job I’ll ever have.
“Hold on.” John puts his hands up. “Don’t be like that. We’re having such a nice time.” He reaches over and strokes my arm. “It just seems like Casey’s really hitting her stride at work lately, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I say quietly and lean into the curve of his arm despite myself.
“Hey,” John says gently. “It’s not too late for you to live out your dreams too. I know you’ve been dead set against going back to work, but if Casey’s success is getting to you, then maybe it’s time for you to get back out there. Didn’t you just say it’s never too late to reinvent yourself ?”
“I don’t know,” I say, wondering what the real Rachel would do. Most people in TV are over the hill at forty, not just getting their feet wet. And what else is she qualified for?
“It’s just that, there’s definitely something different about you ever since we went to the reunion.”
I take a huge gulp of my drink. “I can explain . . .” I start to mumble.
“Shhh . . .” He puts a finger to my lips and I’m terrified he’s going to kiss me. “I don’t really care what happened. I just thought you wanting to go back to work might be the reason behind it. All I know is that the woman I fell in love with is back. We’re back.” He signals the server for another round. “I was starting to think we might have lost us forever.”
I gaze back at him, humbled by his kind words. This was the John I had known for years, the one who would walk over hot coals for Rachel. The one who would borrow a hundred-thousand-dollar car from God-knows-who and drive over an hour to have a drink and watch the sunset with her. I only wish she was here to see it instead of gallivanting all over New York with the one man I’ve ever cared about. “I thought we had too. It’s nice to see us again.”
John leans in to kiss me and I turn my cheek at the last second. “What?” he says, looking hurt, and I’m worried I’ve ruined the moment.
I point to my throat. “I think I’m getting sick. I don’t want you to catch it.”
He looks relieved. “Well, we can do other things later that don’t require kissing.”
I put what I hope looks like a smile on my face and whisper in his ear, “I’ve got my period, honey. Sorry.”
CHAPTER 24
* * *
rachel
I hit delete, erasing the email to Casey I spent the last hour writing and rewriting. It doesn’t matter how I arrange the words, when I read them back, they sound hollow and fake. And maybe they are. Maybe I’m trying too hard. We haven’t spoken since our fight a few days ago (the longest I can remember being mad at each other since I talked her into that spiral perm in junior high). And even though we’ve literally never been closer—I’m inside her body!—we’ve never been further apart. Of all the times to be in an argument. My phone beeps and I grab it.
Downstairs. Can’t wait to see you.
A text message from Charlie. Here to take me to the black-tie party for GossipTV’s five-hundredth episode. Since the McKnight interview aired, it’s become Hollywood’s hottest ticket (the McKnights are even rumored to be dropping in). I take a last look in the full-length mirror, amazed at how beautiful Casey Lee looks in the short, sassy strapless gown picked out by Rachel Zoe, celebrity stylist. The one whose show I used to watch late at night on Bravo while wearing John’s sweat pants and breast-feeding Charlotte. The same one who hand-selected this gorgeous silk dress I’m wearing.
“Wow.” Charlie kisses me on the cheek and helps me into the limo.
“You clean up nice too,” I say with a laugh, instantly relaxing. “And you shaved.” I touch my hand to his smooth cheek.
He gives me a shy smile. “You like?”
I imagine kissing him. “Very much.”
“So about the other night . . .” I start to explain that I’m sorry for rushing him out of the apartment, for not opening up to him about what was wrong.
He puts his finger up to my lips. “Let’s just enjoy this evening.”
Relieved, I take his hand in mine. As we ride in silence to the party, I think about how great it was to see Audrey, Sophie, and Charlotte yesterday—even though they didn’t see me.
To say I stalked them is fair. I’d swiped a pair of Jackie O–like sunglasses from the wardrobe department and headed down to my house, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girls as they arrived home from school. Sure, it probably would’ve been easier to swallow my pride and just face Casey. But I wasn’t ready. And I also wasn’t sure I was prepared to be so close to my own life again. Spying on my family from a production assistant’s car I borrowed, parked slightly down the block, was as close as I was willing to get. Even though I missed them terribly, I had compartmentalized those feelings, finding them as hard to f
ace as Casey. I wasn’t sure what was happening with Charlie, but I was having feelings for him that a wife shouldn’t be having for a man other than her husband. That much I knew for sure.
What I didn’t bank on was also seeing John and Casey. I’d done a double take when John stepped out of the car and grabbed Charlotte from her car seat. It was only four o’clock. What was he doing home? I couldn’t remember the last time he’d left work that early. Audrey and Sophie pulled up behind them with Casey. I watched as the family united and John handed Casey the baby—my baby. As they walked into the house, John put his hand on her ass (well, my ass) and Casey put her hand over it for a few seconds before flirtatiously swatting it away as John kissed her head. What was going on? I didn’t want to think about it. Casey would never betray me like that, would she? If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, I would have said, Never. Now, especially after the way I had acted in New York, I wasn’t so sure.
What I did know for sure was that after seeing that public display of affection between my best friend and my husband, it would be easier to hold Charlie’s hand. Who cares if John didn’t actually know that Casey wasn’t his real wife? Casey sure as hell did.
• • •
But I push the image of John’s hand on Casey’s ass out of my head as Charlie and I pull up to the party. If there was ever a time I needed a game face, it was now. The entrance to the building is lined with photographers and camera crews and I feel my heart start to beat faster. I exit the limo very carefully, having seen way too many inappropriate pictures of Britney Spears’ hoo-ha in the tabloids.
The night is a whirlwind of ass kissing and painful small talk. At least there are some major celebrity sightings. Everyone from Heidi Klum to Victoria Beckham is there. Finally, Charlie and I steal away for some fresh air. As we head out onto the patio, I inhale deeply and take a drink of my champagne.
“Socializing is hard work.” I rest my head on his shoulder and look up at the lights scattered across the Hollywood hills.
“I’d think you’d be used to it by now.” Charlie laughs, loosening his bow tie.
“I’ll never be used to it.” I sigh, thinking again of how much work Casey’s seemingly all-glamorous life is turning out to be. The hours spent in hair and makeup, the endless production meetings, the pettiness.
“Well, if you keep kicking butt at work, I think there might only be more of this kind of thing, not less.” He turns serious for a moment. “Thought any more about what you’re going to say to the executives?”
“About New York?”
“No, about your hair—of course, New York.”
“I think I’m just going to wait and see what they say. I’m trying to live in the moment.”
“Like this moment?” Charlie brushes my hair away from my face. Is this it? Is he going to kiss me? Am I going to stop him?
He leans in and I don’t feel myself moving away. I don’t want to move away.
“There you are!” I spin around and nearly run into a woman with fiery red hair coming at me like a rocket. She’s followed by two men I recognize from New York.
“Speak of the devil!” Charlie says a little too loudly, nervously tightening his bow tie, getting back to business. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh, you were, were you?” The redhead extends her hand and I notice that her nail polish is the exact same color as her hair. “I’m Ava Greenwood, president of programming for Gossip Network. And you already know Mark and Jenson.”
I nod accordingly and air kisses circulate. I want to gag, but quickly pull it together.
“So we’d planned to talk to you tomorrow, Casey Lee, but this party is just buzzing about you.” She puts her hand on my arm, leans in a little too close, nearly spilling her champagne on me. “And did you see the McKnights? They just arrived and I heard they were asking for you. And we realized we’d better remind you that you’re very valued here. And we wouldn’t want to see you go.”
“Go?”
“Don’t play coy, my dear.” I think I smell garlic shrimp on her breath. “There have to be people calling trying to lure you away. I could name three people right now that I’m sure have contacted you.” She and the execs exchange a look.
Destiny had passed me several messages and forwarded emails saying as much, but I honestly hadn’t had the time to read them.
“And you may have heard rumblings about this.” She gives Charlie a look before continuing. “But we officially want to not only offer you your own show in New York City, but—and we can discuss this more later—we’re also prepared to give you a generous raise.”
“Very generous,” Jenson—or was that Mark?—chimes in.
“And if I didn’t want to relocate?” It’s not until all three executives stare at me like I have three heads that I remember I’m not Rachel Cole. I’m Casey Lee. And she would’ve never asked that question because she’s been killing herself for years to get an opportunity like this.
Ava leans in even closer. “Then I’d have to remind you about your contract. The one you signed that clearly states you’re willing to relocate at any time.”
“Of course.” I recover. “I’m fully aware of the details of my contract.” Ava and her minions breathe a collective sigh of relief. But I know I need to buy myself some time. Because as great an opportunity as this is for Casey, there is no way I could leave my family. “I’d just like to talk it over with my agent and have my attorney review the contract. Can I have two weeks?” I feel Charlie’s hand squeeze my arm and I hope I’ve said the right thing since I have no idea what I’m talking about.
The executives share a quick look before Ava gives a small nod. “Oh, yes, that should be fine.” She reaches her hand out to mine again. “But just two weeks, Casey. We need to strike while the iron’s hot.”
I take her hand and hope she doesn’t feel mine shaking. “Two weeks,” I repeat, realizing that the deadline is the same night as John’s surprise birthday party. And it looks like the surprise will be that his wife will be moving to New York City in her best friend’s body.
Ava starts back toward the party, but spins around. “Oh, and Casey dear?”
“Yeah?”
Ava walks closer to me and whispers, “I know you’ve obviously gotten pretty comfortable in your job.” She looks me up and down, her eyes resting on my middle section. “But we’ll need you back to your fighting weight when we head to the Big Apple.” She smiles tightly and I crumple into a chair the minute she’s gone.
Did she just call me fat? I mean, sure, Rachel Zoe seemed a bit surprised when she’d taken my measurements last week. And yes, I had to fight with the zipper on a pair of Casey’s jeans the other day, but still! I run my hand over Casey’s still very flat stomach despite all of my emotional eating. Sure, maybe I’d put on a couple of pounds, but she was still rail thin—too thin if you ask me. Is this what she goes through? A size zero told to shrink even more?
Charlie sits next to me, unaware of Ava’s comments, which I decide to keep to myself. “Isn’t this what you’ve been working for? Your own show?”
“Yes and no, but it’s complicated.”
“I’m hearing that a lot from you lately, but I don’t get it. Since when is this so complicated for you? Since I’ve known you, this is the kind of opportunity you’ve always wanted. But now that it’s actually here, you look about as excited as someone who’s about to get a root canal.”
I can’t meet his eyes. He’s right. Sitting through a time-share presentation sounds more appealing to me right now. I look back toward the party and notice Fiona watching us, having no doubt she took in the entire scene with the executives and put two and two together. If I’m not careful, she’ll pounce on this opportunity and try to sabotage it for Casey. “I shouldn’t be out here. I should be inside mingling—doing my job.” I start to make my way toward the door but Charlie steps in front of me.
“Hold it. You’re not going anywhere. Not until I do this.” Charlie leans in, presu
mably to kiss me just as flashbulbs go off, momentarily blinding me as I turn to my right and see a long-lens camera sticking out of the bushes. Still seeing spots, I grab Charlie’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“What’s the rush? Looks like you two were about to share something special out there. Maybe continue what you started on the ice,” Fiona says bitingly as she slinks over from behind the archway, where she must have been watching us.
I roll my eyes at Charlie. “Want a drink?”
“Are you sure that’s the best idea?” Fiona cackles. “This is an important juncture in your career. I’d hate to see you screw it up by being drunk.”
“Juncture: that’s a big word for you, Fiona. Are you sure you even know what it means?”
Charlie stifles a laugh. “C’mon, Case, let’s get that drink.”
“Make it a double!” I laugh. “I want to be extra wasted when I talk to the McKnights. Heard they were asking for me.”
Fiona ignores my dig. “Whatever, Casey. Everyone knows the executives are offering you your own show. The question is, when are they going to realize you have the shelf life of a carton of cottage cheese?”
“Speaking of cottage cheese, you should really hit the gym, Fiona. Your dress is so short, I can see yours on the back of your legs. So sad for such a young girl,” Destiny says as she grabs my arm and steers me away, leaving Fiona self-consciously tugging at her dress.
“Thanks.” I hug Destiny. “I’ve never been so happy to see you.”
“You know I’ve always got your back.” She leans in. “So, people are talking. Is it true? They officially offered it to you?”
“Yes.”
Destiny lets out a squeal. “Oh my God, this is it. Finally. We’re getting what we’ve always wanted!” She throws her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot where we were for a minute.”
