by Sarah Morgan
“I believe you. Now tell me why Seth thinks you’re Harriet.” Matilda put her mug down. “You were married. He can’t tell the difference?”
“Apparently not.” And yes, that rankled. If real life was like a movie he would have looked into her eyes and known her instantly. “That’s the downside of having a clone.”
“But there must be a million upsides. I often thought about doing a twin story, but I assumed that in real life people would probably be able to tell twins apart.” She studied Fliss. “But you two really are identical.”
“Only on the outside.”
“It’s uncanny. But you’re right, apart from looks, you don’t seem to be much like each other.”
“Even in looks, we have our differences. Harriet smiles. I scowl.” Fliss reached across and closed the box of cookies. “You might want to move that to a locked cupboard. And don’t let me see which one because I’ve been known to break into locked cupboards in my time.”
“So do you do this a lot?”
“Eat cookies? It happens occasionally, especially when someone leaves an entire box out on the countertop.” She took a bite. “Weird, when you think about it.”
“I meant, do you pretend to be your sister?”
“Last time was when we were kids. Someone was bullying her.” Remembering still had the power to make her angry. “They needed a little education on how to treat people.”
Matilda’s eyes gleamed. “And no doubt you educated them in style.”
“I think my solution had certain elements of style.” She waved the cookie, scattering crumbs. “Would have done it anyway, but I decided it would have more impact if they thought it was her.”
“And she pretended to be you?”
“No. She wouldn’t have allowed it. Harriet is straight and honest. I’m the manipulative one who thrives on deception.”
Matilda raised her eyebrows. “What was the deception?”
“I arranged a diversion so she didn’t know what I had planned. She didn’t know until she found me trying to wash blood out of my hair in the girls’ bathroom.” Fliss put the cookie down and lifted her hair to reveal the evidence. “War wound.”
Matilda reached for a piece of paper and scribbled some notes. “Sorry, but this has to go in a book. So if you haven’t done it in a while, why now?”
She’d been asking herself the same question.
Impulse. Lack of judgment. None of the answers sounded impressive, even to her. “I came here to avoid Seth. And even saying that out loud makes me wince.” She drained her coffee. “What sort of person is too much of a coward to say ‘hi’ to a man she hasn’t seen in ten years?”
“One who still has complicated feelings. But I don’t understand why coming here would help you avoid him. Seth lives here.”
“That crucial piece of information happened to be missing when I made my decision. I saw him in Manhattan. He was working as a vet in the practice we use all the time. I assumed he’d moved there permanently.”
“So you decided you’d get out of town,” Matilda said slowly, “and then you bumped right into him.”
“Within an hour of arriving here.” She finished the cookie. “Which proves that karma is a bitch.”
“Or that fate can be kind.”
It was exactly the comment Harriet would have made.
“I can see why you and my sister are good friends. You’re both romantics. And much as I hate to burst that little pink fluffy cloud you see the world through, I can tell you there was nothing romantic about our meeting. First, I thought I’d run over his dog—”
“Oh, that’s Lulu. She likes to play dead.”
“I know that now, but at the time I thought I’d killed her. Which almost killed me. There are plenty of humans I’d be happy to hit with my car, but I’ve never met a dog who deserved that fate. So there I was, shaking, when Seth steps out of the bushes. Instead of doing the adult thing and saying ‘Hi, Seth, how are things with you?’ I pretended to be Harriet.”
Far from being shocked, Matilda looked delighted. “Oh, this would make the perfect meet-cute.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t you watch romantic comedies?”
“My favorite movie is The Shining, with Psycho a close second.”
Matilda shuddered. “You’re right. You really are different from Harriet. Anyway, if you thought you’d hit the dog, then you must have been feeling shaken and vulnerable.”
“That’s an explanation I can live with.”
“Or maybe you just saw him and panicked because you weren’t prepared.”
“That, I find harder to live with.”
“Why? If you haven’t seen him in that long, it’s an understandable reaction.”
“Not for most people, but for me, yes. I have a long history of acting on impulse.” If it hadn’t been for that annoying tendency she might not have got up close and personal with Seth in the first place. “I’m working on it, but so far I’m a work in progress. And I’m not making much progress.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” Matilda shot her a look. “I based my last hero on Seth.”
“You did?”
“Why not? He’s handsome. And hot. And he’s also a vet. That immediately elevates him to hero status for a lot of my readers.”
Fliss stared at her. “That’s all it takes? You can turn into a hero just by picking the right profession?”
“It’s a caring profession. A hero who works in a caring profession starts off with plus points.”
“Because you know he can de-worm your cat if the need arises?”
Matilda laughed. “You’ve changed the subject. I was saying that I totally understand why you would have pretended to be Harriet. We all do rash things when we’re threatened.”
“He didn’t threaten me.”
“No, but your emotions did.”
Fliss decided Matilda saw a little too much for comfort. “Whatever the reason, I’m basically a coward who avoids potentially uncomfortable situations.” She thought about Harriet, hiding under the table as a child. They’d each sought refuge in different ways.
“I don’t think it’s cowardice. It’s because you still have feelings.”
“I hate to disappoint you, Miss Romance Novelist, but until that encounter on the roadside, I hadn’t seen Seth in a decade. Feelings are like plants. They need nurturing. And that’s not me, by the way. I’m not a nurturer. I kill plants. Not intentionally, you understand. It just happens. Things that live around me need to be able to care for themselves.” She glanced at Hero. “Apart from dogs. Dogs, I can handle.”
“And why is that?”
“Dogs only ever expect you to be who you are. They never want more from you. Unconditional love.”
“But you felt something when you saw Seth.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because if you hadn’t,” Matilda said slowly, “you wouldn’t have pretended to be your twin. I think the reason you ran is not because you didn’t want to see him, but because you did.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SETH WALKED LULU on the beach, keeping her on the leash as they were past the time when dogs were allowed to run loose.
From the other direction, racing toward them was a Doberman.
Hero.
He glanced beyond him, expecting to see Matilda, but instead he saw Fliss.
Harriet, he reminded himself. Until she decided to end this charade, he had to remember to call her Harriet.
It rankled that she didn’t trust him enough to reveal the truth, but that had always been the problem. Fliss kept her emotions behind barriers. He understood why, but that didn’t make it any easier to handle.
In the meantime he was going to turn her subterfuge to his advantage.
Hero and Lulu greeted each other ecstatically, a whirl of fur, barks and wagging tails. Moments later Fliss arrived, breathless.
She was wearing running shorts, and her hair was caught in a sleek po
nytail.
“Sorry.” She looked annoyed that the dog had led her to him. “He slipped his leash. I called and he ignored me. I can see why Matilda struggles with him.”
“No problem. These two know each other.”
“Maybe, but a Doberman should be better trained than this one.” She clipped the lead onto Hero, who looked at her reproachfully. “Yeah, that’s right. This is not how I expected our first proper date to go. I’m the one in charge here, remember? I’m the boss.”
Plenty of people would have been wary of a Doberman the size of Hero, but Fliss seemed completely at ease. It didn’t surprise him.
He’d only ever seen Fliss scared of one thing, and that had been her father.
It had made him sick to the stomach to witness it.
He wondered whether she still saw him. Whether the man still had that much power over her.
“It’s kind of you to walk him. I know Chase appreciates it.”
“I can understand why he asked. This dog is too strong for Matilda. Sit.” She spoke sternly, and Hero eyed her, weighing up his odds of getting away with ignoring her. Deciding they weren’t good, he sat.
Fliss nodded. “That’s better. I am going to teach you to listen because once that baby arrives, you’re going to need to be more in control. It’s a big responsibility being a family dog. Are you paying attention?”
Lulu, who was good at sensing atmospheres, whined and slunk behind Seth’s legs.
Hero watched Fliss with big soulful eyes.
Seth watched her, too. He knew that at that moment she’d forgotten that she was pretending to be Harriet. In front of him was Fliss. The Fliss he’d known and remembered.
Their affair had been crazy, wild and hot. So hot that he’d often wondered if that had been part of the problem. If they’d spent less time having sex and more time talking, would they have weathered those traumatic early months?
Probably not, because that would have required her to open up. And she never opened up. She’d built defenses to keep her father out and in the process had kept everyone else out, too.
He’d grown up in a loving family, with parents who supported, encouraged but never interfered. They’d raised him to understand the importance of hard work. Of loyalty. Of love.
Everything he’d wanted had been at his fingertips.
And then he’d met Fliss.
“How’s your grandmother?”
“Bruised. And a little frightened, I think. It’s been a blow to her independence, and I hate to see that. I’m trying to rebuild her confidence.” She lowered her hand to the dog’s head. “She’s talking about making changes around the house.”
“What sort of changes?”
“Bed on the ground floor, that kind of thing. She’s wondering whether to have the apple tree taken down.” Her face was free of makeup, but the breeze and the sun had whipped pink into her cheeks. She was subtly feminine, with a narrowed tapered chin and defined cheekbones. He’d always loved the way she looked, but most of all he loved that she was strong, intelligent and outspoken. Standing this close to her, there was no doubt in his mind that this was Fliss. He’d long since given up asking himself how he could feel sparks of chemistry with one twin but not the other.
“She tripped in the garden, so I guess it makes sense. As for the house, if you need any remodeling, Chase might be able to help with that.”
“Yes, I heard he was building you a house.” She shielded her eyes and glanced at the ocean.
Did she think that not looking at him would make it less likely that he’d recognize her?
“I used to come to this beach with Fliss.” He saw her shoulders tense. “It was one of her favorite places.”
Eventually she turned, but only to make a fuss of Hero. “There are some great beaches around here. So do you have an ocean view?”
“Yes. You should come and take a look sometime. We could share a beer and watch the sunset.” They’d done that many times, the two of them, sitting on the sand, wrapped up in each other. She’d crept out of her grandmother’s cottage and he’d been waiting for her the other side of the rusty gate.
Did she ever think about it?
Was she thinking of it now?
“Maybe I will.” Her smile flashed, even as her eyes said never. “So you’re not living in your parents’ place?”
“For now, but it’s temporary.” And part of him wished he hadn’t opted to stay there. The place seemed suffused with sadness. Maybe it was the silence, after years of large noisy family gatherings, but these days the house felt like an empty, echoing void. “Chase reckons I’ll be able to move in next week. How long are you planning on staying?”
“I don’t know. Until I’m no longer useful.”
“Can Fliss manage without you?” He kept pushing, a little more each time, wanting her to trust him even though he knew she wouldn’t. Protecting herself was second nature to Fliss, the instinct so deeply ingrained that she protected herself even when she didn’t need to. She didn’t know any other way.
He searched for some sign that she was uncomfortable with the lie, but her expression didn’t change.
“Fliss will manage,” she said. “She always manages.”
How long did she intend to keep up the pretense?
He subdued that side of him that was tempted to confront her.
“I was going to grab a coffee and something to eat before going to the clinic. Will you join me?” He saw her hesitate as she searched for an excuse, and he wondered if her hesitation was because she didn’t want to spend time with him, or because she was afraid of giving herself away. He felt a rush of frustration. Finally face-to-face with her, alone, and still he wasn’t able to have the conversation that was so long overdue.
She looked away. “I have Hero—”
“It will be good for his training to sit patiently, and Lulu can teach him a few things.”
“Like how to play dead and frighten the crap out of people?”
“That, too.” He saw her fumble for an excuse, and give up.
“Sure, why not.”
They walked along the beach, and he thought about the number of times they’d done exactly this, walked shoulder to shoulder, close. This time she was careful to keep a good distance between them. Before his relationship with Fliss, he’d thought, with the lack of depth that came with youth, that intimacy was a physical thing. It was naked bodies and carnal discovery. It was only with Fliss that he’d discovered that intimacy, real intimacy, was emotional. It was a sharing of thoughts, beliefs and secrets that deepened a relationship in a way that hot sex alone couldn’t.
He’d thought he’d been on the way to having that with her, but there had always been a part of her he’d never been able to reach. Before he’d come close to doing that, everything had fractured. Like a vase dropped from a height onto concrete, it had seemed that there were too many pieces to put back together.
They found a table at the beach café, and the moment they sat down he realized his mistake. Here, in such a public place, there was no chance of privacy. Not that there was much chance of that anywhere in this community.
“Hi, Dr. Carlyle.” Megan Whitlow was the first to approach him, smoothing her gray hair back from her temples. “Rufus seems a little better, but I’m wondering if I should have him checked again, just to be sure.”
“Call Daisy,” Seth said easily. “She’ll make you an appointment.”
Megan leaned forward, lowered her voice. “We’re just all so happy you’re back, Dr. Carlyle. You’re an asset to this community.”
“That’s very kind of you, Megan.” It was impossible for him to be anonymous here. Impossible for him to ask the questions he’d intended to ask. Patient, he listened as four different people approached and updated him on the status of their pets’ health.
“You’re popular. You don’t even need to rent premises. You could run a clinic right here by the beach.” Fliss picked up the menu, amused. “Still, I guess we should be re
lieved you’re not a doctor. At least people aren’t removing their clothes and updating you on their intimate problems.”
“I should have picked somewhere else.”
“No. I like it.” Her admission surprised him.
“You do?”
“Yes.” She glanced at the menu briefly and put it down again before sliding sunglasses onto her nose. “That’s what being in this place means, isn’t it? Community. It’s the reason you chose to practice here and not somewhere like Manhattan. You used to talk about it. How ultimately this sort of practice was what you wanted.”
“I don’t remember ever discussing it with you.”
There was a pause. “Fliss must have mentioned it.” She’d made a swift rescue, and he decided not to press.
Not yet.
But soon. If she didn’t tell him herself, he was going to have to make the first move.
“So you built a good business in Manhattan.”
“It’s growing fast.” She talked about numbers, growth, strategy and plans for the future.
If she’d really been Harriet, she would have been telling him about the dogs, not their profit projections for the next quarter.
They ate a fragrant Thai salad, flavored with lemongrass and the tang of lime, and he watched as the sunlight played over her hair, picking out silver and gold.
They talked about neutral topics. Business—his and hers—life in Manhattan versus life in the Hamptons, dogs. Nothing personal.
“Dessert?”
She glanced at the menu and sighed. “Better not. I ate half a ton of cookies at Matilda’s a few days ago, and I’m still feeling guilty.” She put the menu down. “And you don’t have a sweet tooth, so I guess it’s just coffee.”
Another slip.
He was working out how he could turn that to his advantage when someone else approached the table. Only this time, he wasn’t the target.
“Harriet?” The woman wrapped Fliss in a tight hug, and Seth saw her face freeze in horror.
It was obvious to him she had no idea who was hugging her.
He came to her rescue.
“Hi, Linda. How are preparations for the bake sale?”
