“Okay, well, what about when he runs into someone else from high school, someone who knows Jadyn’s dead? What happens when he Googles her and finds news articles from the accident? Or her obituary? It’s kind of strange he hasn’t heard already.”
It was strange. And if she didn’t tell him, someone else would. Why did Summer have to be so freaking right? Stupid Pop Rocks in my stomach, clouding my judgment. She should’ve told him about Jadyn at the grocery store. Now things were going to be incredibly awkward. “You’ve made your point,” Keslee said. “This sucks.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“Yeah, and now he’s going to think I’m some weird, creepy girl who gets her jollies from stealing the identities of the dead.” Keslee pulled the throw pillow from behind her back and buried her face in it. “I’m such an idiot. He’s going to hate me.”
“He won’t hate you.” Summer patted Keslee’s back. “Most likely.”
“How do you even deliver that kind of news?” Keslee tossed the pillow aside and grabbed her phone, scrolling through the contacts to Bryce. “I guess I can text him.” At least then she wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness face to face. Texting would be much less embarrassing.
Summer’s hand clamped over Keslee’s. “You can’t text him this kind of news.”
Keslee’s finger hovered over Bryce’s name. Dang. Summer was right. Again. A “hey, by the way I’m Keslee and Jadyn’s been dead for two years” text probably wasn’t the kindest way to inform Bryce his missed chance was gone forever. Hey, Bryce. Lol, just kidding. I’m Keslee, not Jadyn. And Jadyn’s dead. :( But I have a crush on you so let’s still go out Friday! TTYL! What a nightmare. She couldn’t text him.
“Should I call him?” Keslee asked. She stared at Summer, willing her to catch the please don’t make me call him vibes. “That doesn’t really feel right either.”
“Yeah, I don’t think you should call him.”
“Okay, then that leaves telling him in person.”
“Ding-ding-ding.”
The Pop Rocks were back in Keslee’s stomach, only this time they were angry. “Oh my gosh, I have to tell him on our date. Why did I let this happen?”
“Tell him at the beginning, not the end, so he can leave if he wants to. And so he doesn’t waste his money on your meal under false pretenses.”
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Keslee flopped back against the couch. “This is going to be the most uncomfortable date in the history of the universe.”
“Is it really a date anymore?”
Keslee scowled. “Thanks.”
“Sorry. But you got yourself into this mess. Now it’s time for you to get yourself out.”
CHAPTER THREE
Jadyn had always been the type of girl who chose the perfect outfit for every event. She’d never stressed over what to wear on dates, because she knew what to wear before her date even finished the invitation.
Keslee was not that type of girl. While everyone else was complaining over the uniforms they were forced to wear throughout their school years, Keslee secretly loved them. Because fashion? Not her thing. Not that it had mattered. One of the perks of being Jadyn’s twin was access to her vast wardrobe, and she knew which of her outfits would look perfect on you. And she was always right.
Since Jadyn’s death, Keslee kind of wished she could go back to uniforms.
Keslee threw a blouse and a pair of dress slacks aside in disgust. What exactly did someone wear on a date where they’d assumed the identity of their deceased identical twin? She flipped through her closet for the thousandth time. Nothing but power suits in varying shades of brown, blue, and beige. Well, and her Doctor Who and Batman pajamas. And a few t-shirts emblazoned with her favorite Marvel characters. Wedding planners were supposed to look professional, not alluring. Especially young ones. Brides tended to frown on overly attractive wedding planners.
Keslee walked across the hallway in her bathrobe and knocked on Summer’s door. “Sum, I need to raid your closet.”
Summer opened the door and looked Keslee up and down. “I don’t know. I think the robe and turban look works for you. Rock it. He liked the Batman jammies.”
Keslee rolled her eyes. “This is serious!”
Summer ushered Keslee inside. “I don’t know if my wardrobe is any better than yours.”
“At least kindergarten teachers have flowy skirts in fun colors.”
Summer opened her closet door. “Laundry is on the to-do list for tonight so the pickings are slim.”
Keslee riffled through the clothes, causing the hangers to slide on the rod. “Is this the type of date I should wear black for? I’m worried that if I wear black, it’ll seem too funeral-like. But if I wear bright colors, will he think I’m callous about Jadyn’s death? I mean, it’s been two years. But I still miss her.”
“You’re overthinking this.”
Keslee sucked on a lock of hair, then realized what she was doing and quickly pulled it out of her mouth. “I’m telling Bryce I lied to him about my dead sister. I don’t think it’s possible to overthink this.”
Keslee chose one of Summer’s flowy skirts in a deep turquoise and paired it with one of her own white fitted tops. She decided she looked okay—dressy while still being casual, and subdued while still managing to show personality.
Not that Bryce would notice or care. Not after she told him she wasn’t Jadyn.
“Jadyn would never have worn this,” Keslee said, picking an invisible piece of lint off her blouse. “And she probably wouldn’t have chosen it for me to wear either.”
“What would she have worn?” Summer asked.
“Something much more daring. Stilettos and a tight party dress with a crisscross back. Something sexy without crossing over to slutty.”
“I wish I could’ve met her,” Summer said. It wasn’t the first time she’d uttered the sentiment.
“Me too. You would’ve loved her.”
The doorbell rang. Keslee’s breathing quickened. Her chest constricted as though a python were wrapped around her.
Summer gave Keslee a quick hug. “Tell him immediately. It’s only going to get more awkward as the night goes on. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay by your side for support?”
“No, that’ll make me even more nervous. I’m a big girl; I can do this.”
“Okay, I’ll hide in my bedroom until you leave. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I’m going to need a lot more than luck, though. Like a giant hole in the earth to swallow me up. She would open the door and say it before they ever walked to the car. Give him an out right from the get-go.
Keslee took a deep breath at the front door, then opened it. Her breath stuttered, and all words left her mind. Bryce looked fantastic in a sport coat and a blue button-up shirt that matched his eyes. He smiled, and the dimple popped in his cheek.
“Wow,” he said. “You look amazing.” He wrapped her in a hug. Keslee could barely contain the shiver his touch evoked. It was all she could do to focus on what he was saying.
“So do you,” Keslee said. Don’t stroke his dimple. Or his hair. If double fudge brownie ice cream was a person, it’d be Bryce.
She had imagined this moment—this first date—a hundred times in high school. Keslee shut the front door and followed Bryce to his car. He’d upgraded from the beat-up Oldsmobile he’d driven back then to a dark blue Mazda that looked fairly new. It was nice without being ostentatious, with leather seats and a backup camera. Bryce turned on the car and soft jazz music filled the vehicle.
“Nice,” Keslee said.
Bryce blushed, switching to a station playing Top 40. “Sorry, I meant to change that. Now you’re going to think I’m an old man.”
Keslee laughed. She definitely wasn’t thinking that.
Crap. She wasn’t thinking at all. This wasn’t a real date. How had she gotten into his car without telling him about Jadyn? Her plan had been solid. Why hadn’t she thought to account for the fact that she could
barely form a sentence around Bryce, especially when his dimple appeared?
She should tell him now. No, this wasn’t the kind of news you delivered while someone was driving. The date was likely to be a train wreck. She didn’t need to add an actual wreck to that. She’d have to wait until the restaurant now.
She should make small talk. Maybe ask him about his job. In high school, when he hadn’t been holding his trombone, he’d been carrying a camera around. Had he gone into photography? Did he teach music? Was he something completely different, like a data analyst or an accountant? She should ask about where he lived. What he did for fun on the weekends. She definitely should tell him Jadyn was dead before they got out of the car, but after he’d come to a complete stop.
The sick feeling in her gut grew. He was going to hate her after tonight.
“So, have you kept in touch with anyone from high school?” Bryce asked.
“Not really.” Obviously he hadn’t either, or he would’ve heard about Jadyn’s death.
“Me neither. I did hear Mr. Thompson passed away.”
“That’s too bad.” Tell him now!
“Yeah, and so young, too. Not even sixty.” He shook his head. “He was a great teacher.”
Keslee had never been his student. He’d been Jadyn’s algebra teacher, not hers.
Bryce continued to chat as they drove downtown. Keslee tried to keep up her end of the conversation, but knew she failed abysmally. Bryce started shooting her strange glances the closer they got to the restaurant. Italian. Jadyn had hated Italian, but it was Keslee’s favorite. Bryce pulled up to the front and handed his keys to the valet. A valet? Keslee had imagined sitting in his car in the parking lot to tell him. Now she’d have to wait until they were in the restaurant.
Bryce gently rested a hand at Keslee’s back as he guided her through the front doors. Her stomach spasmed at his touch and her palms felt damp. She willed her mind to stay clear. This had gone on long enough. She had to tell Bryce. Before they ordered dinner.
They followed the hostess to a table. Keslee winced when she saw a candle flickering as the centerpiece. Bryce must’ve really liked Jadyn. He’d gone all out. This restaurant was posh.
Bryce helped Keslee into her chair, then sat down across from her.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem a little distracted.”
Keslee set her menu down, her hand trembling. She was going to tell him. Now. “I have been. I’m sorry.”
“Hard day at work?”
She’d spent most of the afternoon trying to calm down a freaked out bride. But that was easy compared to this. It was time to come clean. Now.
“There’s actually something I have to tell you,” Keslee said. Please don’t hate me.
Bryce raised his eyebrow and took a sip of water. “Okay.”
“Bryce …” She took a deep breath. There was no easy way to say this. Best to let it out, before she got lost in his eyes and forgot her purpose. “Jadyn died two years ago.” She twisted her hair around her finger. Two years. She held her breath against the sudden wave of grief.
Keslee watched Bryce’s Adam’s apple bob as he continued to drink. Saw his eyes widen. And then he choked, jerking his hand so that the water splashed down his front. He set the glass down quickly. Keslee grabbed the cloth napkin off her lap and handed it to him.
“Jadyn’s dead? But then, that means …” His eyes met hers.
She nodded. “I’m Keslee.” She waited for a reaction, an explosion, something.
He blinked, breaking eye contact.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you at the grocery store.” Keslee stumbled over her words as she rushed to get the explanation out. “I tried, but then you were so happy that I couldn’t tell you.” She closed her eyes against the moisture, the corners of her heart still raw. She missed Jadyn so much.
“How?”
Keslee took a deep breath. Relating the story never got easier. “A trip to Hawaii. She went cliff diving and got caught in a riptide. By the time we reached her, she was already gone.”
Bryce leaned away from Keslee, as though trying to escape. She tried to catch his eye, but he looked away. His fingers shook as he fiddled with the soggy napkin. “I … I don’t know what to say.”
The waitress appeared, notepad in hand. “Are you ready to order?”
“Give us a few minutes,” Bryce said.
The waitress glanced between them, as though just sensing the discomfort. “Of course, sir.” She quickly walked away.
“We don’t have to eat dinner,” Keslee said. “My roommate can pick me up, and you can go home.”
“No, let’s eat.” Bryce cleared his throat, pulling at the collar of his shirt. He stared steadfast at a point just beyond her left ear. “I asked you on a date.”
“You asked Jadyn.” And you can’t even look at me.
The tips of his ears turned red. “I guess I shouldn’t have assumed you were her. But you have her tattoo.” His voice shook. Keslee wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t listening closely.
“Yeah.” Keslee realized she was fiddling with her hair, and quickly dropped it. “I got that a few weeks after she died. Red balloons were kind of our thing.”
“You should’ve told me. About Jadyn, I mean.”
Well, sure. But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of this humiliating evening. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you she was gone.” She looked away. “Not a very good excuse, I know.” And your stupid eyes and stupid dimple kind of ruined my ability to reason.
Bryce cleared his throat. Nodded. “I didn’t give you much of a chance to correct me. I’m excited to see you again, too. I feel like I know you almost as well as I know Jadyn—knew Jadyn. She couldn’t stop talking about you.”
Keslee’s heart fluttered. Jadyn had talked about her, and Bryce remembered.
What was she doing? Stop it, Keslee. If there’d ever been a chance Bryce would like her, she’d ruined it.
“Two years.” Bryce ran his fingers through his hair. “I had no idea she was gone.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it.”
“I was in Uganda on a humanitarian mission right around that time. I got home a year ago.” He ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “I’m not great at keeping in touch with people, anyway. I wish I’d known. I would’ve liked to attend her funeral.”
Keslee opened her mouth to respond, but the waitress reappeared. Neither of them had looked over the menu, but Bryce ordered and so did Keslee. She picked the cheapest item, even though it wasn’t something she particularly liked. Bryce shouldn’t have to pay for this date, but she knew he would. He was that kind of guy.
She should’ve told him about Jadyn over the phone.
“Wow. Gone.” Bryce shook his head.
The awkwardness overwhelmed Keslee, like too much salt in a cookie. “I know.”
“Not that I’m disappointed to be out with you,” he quickly said. “If I’d known you were Keslee and not Jadyn, I still would’ve asked you out.”
Right. And now Bryce’s eyes were suspiciously red. Was he going to cry? Fantastic.
“So … tell me about your life,” Bryce said.
“Oh.” Keslee blinked. She really hadn’t planned for conversation after she dropped the bomb. “Uh … there’s not much to tell.”
“When did you move back to town?”
“About two years ago.”
“Did Jadyn move with you, or was it after she died?”
So that’s how the night was going to go—fielding painful questions about Jadyn. “After,” Keslee said, her words clipped.
“What was she doing before she passed away?” The words were nearly a whisper. “Did she get to model like she wanted to?”
“A little.” Where was the food? Keslee had never wanted a date to end so badly.
From there, the date went downhill fast. Keslee tried to be friendly and polite, and Bryce seemed to try, too, but the stiff awkwardness hung in th
e air. Bryce kept asking questions about Jadyn, sending daggers through Keslee’s heart—because it hurt to think of her, but also because it was obvious who Bryce preferred. He drove Keslee home immediately after the date. She wished he’d stay in the car, but wasn’t surprised when he got out to walk her to the door.
“Thanks for dinner,” Keslee said.
“Sure.” He didn’t move in for the token end-of-date hug. Keslee couldn’t blame him. Bryce gave an awkward wave. “Well, have a good night.”
“You, too,” Keslee murmured. But Bryce was already walking away. It didn’t escape her notice that he hadn’t promised to call. She couldn’t blame him. That had, hands down, been the most uncomfortable date of her life.
At least the date accomplished one thing. It was definitely over with Bryce.
CHAPTER FOUR
By Monday morning, Keslee had resolved to forget her date with Bryce had ever happened. She’d learned her lesson. Never again would she impersonate her sister. Two years without Jadyn, and a lifetime left. The thought hurt more than almonds in ice cream.
Summer, sympathetic, spent Saturday at the mall with her in an attempt to cheer Keslee up. Now it was time to put Bryce behind her—all the way behind, way back where she wouldn’t accidentally have to remember the humiliating date.
Keslee rode up the elevator to the fifth floor. She loved everything about her job—the romanticism, the coordinating of events, making brides’ dreams come true. She walked into her office and set her purse on the desk. She’d barely turned on her computer when there was a knock at the door. Keslee’s boss entered, an absent smile on her face. Candice was an older woman with gray hair and a no nonsense attitude. “Hey, Keslee. Have a good weekend?” she asked.
Not really. “Sure. And you?”
There was a muffled voice from the hallway. Candice leaned out the door, answering a question, then turning back to Keslee. “What? Oh, my weekend was fine. I need a favor.”
“Of course.”
“There’s a new event center opening on 53rd. Magnolia Gardens. They’re having a preview tonight for all the event planners in the area. Liz was supposed to go, but she called in sick. Can you go instead?”
First Love Second Choice Page 2
