Romancing the Wrong Twin

by Clare London

  “Ade. The thing is—” Zeb took a careful breath. And when had he moved out of Aidan’s brother-thumping range? “—I need you to go out with him.”

  “I—Sorry?” Aidan shook his head, trying to clear what he’d obviously misheard. “He doesn’t even know me. Why would he want to date me?”

  “He doesn’t. Want to date you, that is.”

  Aidan blinked at Zeb’s casual dismissal. “Thanks. I think?”

  “No, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Jesus, Ade, cut me some slack here.” Another careful breath from Zeb. “He wants to date me.”

  “Does he know you?”

  “No, of course not. You’re the one who said we hardly move in the same circles.”

  Aidan stared at his twin. “Okay, so I’m now officially confused.”

  Zeb gave an exaggerated sigh and flopped back on the sofa. “It’s a job. I do some work for his agency, and they need a gay date for Hairy Guy at a movie premiere next week. They’ve booked me.”

  Good God, am I on a completely different planet? He couldn’t understand a word of it. “Why would they do that?”

  For the first time, Zeb looked uncomfortable. “I do that sometimes. Go on a date with someone when the agency wants some publicity. They pay me a fee for it.”

  The paparazzi followed Zeb like faithful, lusty puppies when he went out in his full social regalia. But Aidan wasn’t sure how to take this particular snippet of news. He knew Zeb went on dates enthusiastically and often—he’d just never imagined that anyone had hired him to do it.

  Zeb went on grumpily. “Take that bloody look off your face. It’s usually fun. It’s just that this time….”

  “Is going out with H-G so hideous a thought you want to pass him off onto me?” Aidan said icily.

  Zeb rolled his eyes. “Please, bro. It’s not like that. I’d do the gig, no problem. It’s just I have to be somewhere else that night. But I’m under contract for the date as well.”

  “So you want me to date a complete stranger—and as you, not myself?” Aidan scoffed. “And what part of that do you think sounds likely?”

  “Oh Ade, please.” Zeb looked genuinely miserable. There was no sign of the wheedling look he’d had in the past when he tried to persuade Aidan to cover up some indiscretion.

  “What aren’t you telling me? I’m sure you’ve never passed up the chance of a date before. At least if you thought there might be a contract in it for you.”

  “Ouch.” Zeb looked genuinely offended.

  “And you’ve never been upset at comments like that before either,” Aidan said slowly. What had changed with Zeb? “I reckon you’ve had a better offer and I’m getting your castoffs. Am I right?”

  But Zeb didn’t rise to the bait. He just looked more miserable. “I can’t tell you any more. Not yet. But it’ll really help me out. Really. I promise you this is genuine. It’s no joke.”

  “But… a blind date?” Aidan couldn’t get his head around it. “You know how I feel about those.”

  “Every date is blind until you get to know them.”

  “Don’t quote platitudes at me, bro. This is ridiculous.” Aidan had been on a totally blind date twice. Once he’d been abandoned in the middle of a town in Essex where the guy had received a call from his ex and rushed straight home—oh, and mistakenly took Aidan’s wallet with him—and the second time, Aidan had narrowly missed being beaten up by a man who turned ugly after a few too many scotches. “And it’s not because it’s a blind date. It’s because it’s me.”

  “Ade.” Zeb looked genuinely distressed. “I wouldn’t even consider it if I thought you’d get into any trouble, honestly. Do you believe me?”

  Unfortunately Aidan did.

  “And it’s just one evening. You probably won’t even have to talk to him much. There’ll be things going on—”

  “Things going on?”

  Zeb winced at Aidan’s tone. “Just the premiere. And dinner. And then a couple of clubs, that’s all.”

  Words failed Aidan. “All.”

  “You’re not dating at the moment, are you? I mean, you haven’t got any commitments?”

  It was Aidan’s turn to wince. “Nice of you to ask first.”

  “Oh fuck it. I just make things worse and worse, don’t I?”

  And then Aidan just had to smile. “You look like a kicked puppy. No, I’m not dating anyone. But you do see how lunatic the idea is, don’t you? I couldn’t pretend to be you for an hour, let alone a whole evening. I mean, for a start, what would I wear? I don’t have anything like a supermodel’s wardrobe.”

  Damn it. He should never have started to talk logistics; he could see from Zeb’s smirk that Zeb thought he’d won. As, of course, he probably had, but Aidan would make him work for it.

  “I’d sort that out for you, you know I would. I can bring around a whole pile of outfits for you to choose from. And you wouldn’t have to dye your hair or shave your eyebrows or anything—”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Aidan murmured sarcastically.

  “—for just one night. We can make you look enough like me to get away with it.”

  Aidan shook his head. What more could he do? The plea in Zeb’s eyes had been unmistakable.

  “There’s one bit of good news,” Zeb added slyly. “You can have the fee.”

  Aidan felt a shameful mix of emotions. On the one hand, he really needed the money, and Zeb’s fees always seemed obscenely huge for just standing around in ludicrous clothes all day. On the other hand, dating someone for money… didn’t that make him some kind of a tart?

  “I know,” Zeb said in that fascinating way he had of knowing exactly what Aidan was thinking, “but I’m not asking you to put out. There’s definitely no expectation of that. In fact, Hairy Guy—”

  Zeb stopped suddenly as if realizing he was heading into more trouble.

  Because, of course, Aidan had the same talent for knowing what his twin was thinking too. “He doesn’t want to go on this date either, does he?”

  Zeb sighed and struck what he called his Les Miz pose—a sad, plaintive look on his face and his hands lifted in front of him in supplication. “It’s just a job for both of us, you know? Neither of us would have chosen it left to ourselves, would we? It’s a necessary evil.”

  Way to make us all feel bargain basement. But that’s what Aidan was nowadays, wasn’t he? “What the hell would I talk about?”

  “Honey, there’s hardly any chance to talk at premieres anyway. It’s just a matter of smiling and holding his arm. You know.”

  Aidan didn’t, but he stayed silent.

  “You did all those years at drama school, right? You move well from all the dancing you do with those hyperactive kids. And, let’s face it, you know enough about my life to make small talk.”

  It was true. One thing Zeb loved to do when he was off duty was to talk. On many late nights, he’d come to visit Aidan and talk for hours about the people on the shoot, the director’s instructions, the clothes, the client’s instructions….

  But I’m never the one in the spotlight. Aidan had realized early on in his acting studies that although he adored the theater, he was never going to make it as an actor. He couldn’t lose his inhibitions convincingly enough. His stuttering and clumsiness onstage became legendary until no one in his class would cast him except in “stand at the back and don’t speak” parts. And yet he was popular and had a beautiful speaking voice coupled with a deep love of language. Finally Aidan had found his niche in writing and directing and the occasional voiceover jobs—anything where he didn’t have to be in front of an audience.

  “And you do those commentaries and adverts, don’t you?” Zeb was still rambling, his tone increasingly more panicked. “You can sound like me, no problem. You’ve always been the clever one, Ade. I need you to make this work for me. You never know, you might even enjoy it!”

  Aidan thought that was about as likely as him joining the Royal Shakespeare Company, but one look at his di
stressed twin, and Aidan knew what answer he’d give.

  Chapter Six

  “DOM, stand still! I’m only going to trim this bit at the side, but if you keep wriggling I’m likely to stab you in the jaw.”

  Tanya stood on her tiptoes in the middle of Dominic Hartington-George’s living room and snipped at the edges of his beard with nail scissors, fussing way too much in his opinion. At the same time, Eric hovered behind him, brushing the little ends of hair off the shoulders of his brand-new shirt—which was too tight, too bright, too stiff, too… new. Dom couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a smart shirt, let alone the whole new outfit that Tanya had bullied him into buying. He huffed out his frustration and Tanya leaned away from him with a frown.

  “What’s up, big man?” Eric kept up his usual teasing. “Nervous of a blind date?”

  “Eric,” Tanya warned.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Dom snapped. But he was nervous. What the hell was that all about? He couldn’t remember being nervous about anything since that time on K2 when a snowstorm blew up and he couldn’t see six inches in front of his face. Even then, they’d all just hunkered down and dug in until the weather cleared. Could that strategy apply here as well? He was pretty sure dating wasn’t comparable with mountaineering. Then he thought about the anticipation of this date and how it was causing adrenaline to spike through his body, and he wasn’t so sure.

  Dom had looked up this Zeb Z person online. Well, it’d been bloody hard to avoid him. Even as Dom typed in “Zeb,” hundreds of searches and images sprang up. It had felt like a visual mugging. Dom didn’t follow any particular magazines or TV channels, but even he recognized some of the campaigns Zeb had been featured in. In fact, he’d never realized how many of them were the same guy. Zeb Z had been the face of chewing gum, designer sunglasses, and diet soda, all within the same six-month period, though Dom found a glamorous swimwear campaign rather more fascinating. Zeb Z was one of those “pale and interesting chaps,” as Dom’s aristocratic mother was wont to call the more effete of Dom’s friends. But Zeb had a finely developed set of muscles, a body that twisted both athletically and elegantly, and the most mischievous grin Dom had seen for a long time.

  Well, even if they had nothing to say to each other, Dom thought he wouldn’t mind a friendly grope of that body. He was mildly surprised to find his heartbeat had increased and his trousers tightened across his lap, just from admiring Zeb’s half-naked body. A little too skinny for Dom’s usual taste, but the chap’s expression hinted he wasn’t averse to some slap and tickle. Just for fun, of course. God forbid Dom would have anything more in common with such a media grabber. He’d found the occasional online interview with Zeb Z, and they seemed to be full of the clubs and parties he went to, the celebrities he’d met, and the stars he’d dated.

  Slap and tickle? As if that were likely! Dom smiled ruefully at his own arrogance. Zeb Z was probably thinking the same thing at the moment, wondering what the hell he’d let himself in for, but without any desire to grope a grumpy, approaching forty-year-old in return. The kid looked all of twenty in most of his photos, even if Wikipedia insisted Zeb Z was twenty-eight.

  “How’s that?” Tanya waved a hand mirror in front of his face. She seemed to expect his feedback.

  Dom didn’t check himself out in mirrors as a matter of course, and it was a bit of a shock to see the smart man reflected back at him, with tidy hair, an ironed shirt collar, and his broad shoulders being eased into a new linen jacket by a smirking Eric.

  Tanya sighed. “And there. You’ve just spoiled it with another scowl.”

  “Don’t fuss, for God’s sake.” He tried to force a more relaxed look. “I’m fine. Honestly.”

  Tanya glanced at her watch. “He’ll be here to meet you soon.”

  “The pair of you don’t want us gooseberries lurking around,” Eric said, following his words with a wicked little laugh.

  Dom tried to grab him, but Eric had too many years’ practice of keeping out of reach. “One day…,” Dom threatened instead, “when you least expect it.”

  “Stop bickering, you two. But Eric’s right, we’d better be off.” Tanya picked up her bag and coat to leave the house.

  “Tanya?”

  She turned back to Dom, smiling distractedly. “What can I do for you?”

  “I just want you to….”

  “To…?” Tanya waved her hands helplessly as if trying to grasp an ending to that sentence from thin air.

  “To come with me? To go on the date for me?” Dom only meant it as a joke, but Tanya flushed.

  “I would if I could, Dom. He’s really… you know.”

  No, Dom thought, I don’t. Or maybe he did, but didn’t want to admit it.

  “He’s very attractive. Bold.” Tanya looked quite flushed. “And I believe he dates both men and women.”

  “An equal-opportunities man. Very modern.” Dom’s forehead crinkled as he tried to recall what he knew of Tanya outside work. “I thought you had a boyfriend?”

  Tanya rolled her eyes, her usual practical attitude returning. “I have a husband and eight children, Dom. Thanks for remembering.”

  “God. You do? I mean, sorry I forg—”

  Eric snorted.

  “It’s okay,” Tanya said with a fonder smile. “I’m just teasing you, Dom. I only have a boyfriend, and no kids, though that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate good-looking men, does it? But this is something you have to do for yourself.”

  “Well. Yes. Of course I do.”

  “You’ve dated before, right?” Eric sounded genuinely curious.

  “God, yes. But… you know.”

  Apparently Tanya did. “With guys like yourself?” she asked shrewdly. “Strong, silent types who don’t talk about their feelings, who just get on with the job? No strings attached, just passing relief?”

  Dom winced. It sounded very grim, spoken aloud like that. “I’m not a complete tosser, Tanya. There have been men I’ve cared about.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “You didn’t.” Dom sighed and moved to run a hand through his hair, but he remembered at the last minute that he’d come away with a handful of gloop if he did. “In some ways you’re right.” Dom had dated men when he was younger and had hope, when it had been more than just relief and harmless fun. But nowadays? What time and emotional energy did he have for significant others?

  Yet he seemed to be wearying of quickie hookups, as the kids called them. Sometimes he even found himself wondering about companionship and longer-term commitment. He had no idea why that was happening, apart from the Big Forty milestone approaching him in the fast lane. Being alone had never been a problem—dammit, he spent many months of the year away on walking and climbing trips, with no emotional hardship at all—but when he came home, it was different. The house was chilly and too quiet, there was nothing decent on the TV, and no one to complain to about it. Meals for one looked increasingly sparse and unappetizing. Was that what loneliness meant? Dom had no idea if it was a sign of age or weariness. He still had the same hunger for adventure—he just wanted something else as well. But he had no idea how to change his “no strings and easy relief” approach to cope with that.

  Tanya still looked concerned. “I thought it’d be a good idea for you to meet Zeb here before the premiere.”

  Dom hated the thought of pity, but he would always respect Tanya’s intelligence. And to be honest, he found he suddenly welcomed her sympathy. “So we can vet each other? Check we don’t throw up on the spot?”

  Tanya started laughing, then bit it off. “You have an hour or so to chat before the event, and there’ll be dinner and a club visit afterward. You don’t want to arrive looking as if you’ve only just met, do you? Dom, please relax.”

  “I’m perfectly relaxed!”

  “Yeah, right,” Eric muttered from somewhere safe behind Tanya.

  She’s right about me, of course. Dom knew he was one of those men who didn’
t like to talk about their feelings. He relied on nature to provide the majesty and beauty in his life. What human could compete with that? “It means such a lot to me,” he said suddenly. “This expedition. My father took the same route, you know?”

  Tanya nodded, but she was obviously tactful enough to let him continue.

  “I want to follow that route. His route.”

  “And conquer it,” she said quietly. “I know.”

  He was silent for a moment. His father had been an amazing, charismatic, larger-than-life character, brimming with fierce energy and an iron will. And an appallingly negligent parent. Yet Dom had worshipped him as a kid, and he was still carrying that candle. Or was his determination to follow in his father’s footsteps—and yes, Tanya was right, to cover them with his own imprint—a sign of rebellion against that reputation?

  “We’ll get the money, Dom.” She took his arm gently. The touch broke him away from his memories. “Just play the game for a while, and then… well, then you can do whatever you wish. You’ll be left on your own again, just as you like it.”

  Just as you like it. Dom couldn’t blame anyone for thinking that was what he wanted. Meanwhile, he had a date to get through.

  It would be one of the most challenging expeditions he’d ever undertaken.

  Chapter Seven

  BY the time Aidan arrived at the Hartington-George house, he was a whole new person—at least on the outside.

  Zeb, of course, had loved rummaging through his own wardrobe to provide a whole set of alternative options for Aidan to wear. A few days after Zeb’s bombshell announcement, he’d arrived at Aidan’s flat with several cases of clothes, accessories, plus hair products to make Aidan’s hair match Zeb’s highlighted spikes. Aidan barely escaped wearing full makeup at the trying-on session; he refused anything beyond eyeliner and some tinted foundation. Although Zeb hated being out in the sun, Aidan was still naturally paler, but by the end of their time together, they looked extremely similar. To a cursory viewer, they could be the same person.