He lingered in the hallway outside her converted-loft apartment until she unlocked the door. She suspected courtesy suggested that she invite him in for a drink, but she really just wanted to be alone for now.
He seemed to sense her feelings, “Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and turned her doorknob. That might have been the end of the evening had the door to the stairwell at the end of the hallway not opened at that moment, accompanied by a burst of voices and laughter. Brian seemed to react on sheer instinct, reaching out to pull her into his arms without any warning of his intentions. His mouth was on hers before she could ask what the heck he thought he was doing.
Maybe it was the element of surprise that kept her from resisting. Or maybe it was the awareness of those onlookers and the role she had agreed to play for the next few weeks. Telling herself this was only an act and Brian was merely playing to their audience, she forced herself to relax and appear cooperative.
The problem was that it was all too easy to forget this was only an act. Whatever other problems she might have with him, Brian certainly had a talent for clearing an otherwise intelligent woman’s mind of all coherent thought.
The sounds of voices faded away. Genae couldn’t have said whether it was because the newcomers had stopped talking or her ears had simply stopped working. It seemed all she could concentrate on was the way his lips felt against hers, and the warm strength of his arms around her. She found herself clutching his shirt, the fabric gathered tightly in her fingers as she steadied herself. For some annoying reasons, her legs were proving a bit unreliable at the moment.
She must be more tired than she had thought.
She pushed her heavy eyelids upward as Brian drew his lips from hers. His eyes were very close to hers, their expression intense but impossible to interpret. Blinking to clear her vision, she glanced around the hallway to find that it was empty now, her neighbors having discreetly entered their own apartments.
Brian’s arms were still around her. She took a half step backward, bumping against her door. “Well...” she murmured, irked when her voice came out a croak. She cleared it quickly, “I guess that capped the performance for today.”
Just a hint of a smile touched his face, “How about an encore?”
Groping behind her with one hand, she quickly turned the doorknob, pushed the door open and moved another step backward, “Final curtain.”
With a good-natured smile, he straightened, “Goodnight."
She let herself into her apartment and closed the door behind her. And then she sagged against it, listening until his footsteps faded away and the rumble of the elevator indicated he was gone.
Her lips were still tingling from his kiss, her stomach still fluttering like crazy. It had been a long time since she’d been involved with anyone--not since her engagement had ended a year ago, actually. Maybe when this was all over, she should consider getting out more.
“Stand still, Genae. You’re making it hard for Mrs. O’Neill to fit you.”
“There’s a straight pin sticking into my butt,” Genae complained, squirming again.
The exasperated-looking, grey-haired woman kneeling beside her made a hasty adjustment, “Is that better?”
“Some.”
“Then why are you still wiggling?”
Genae made an effort to be still, even though she felt very much like a voodoo fashion doll being poked and prodded and peered at.
“You still haven’t told me if you like the dress,” Raylene reminded her from a few feet away in the fitting room of O’Neill’s Bridal Shoppe.
Glancing at the full-length mirror, Genae shrugged, dislodging a tiny waterfall of silver pins. Mrs. O’Neill grumbled something beneath her breath and gathered them up again, “The dress is fine. It’s pretty.”
And it was--a tasteful column of lavender silk accented with a diagonal sweep of tiny rhinestones across the bodice. Pretty--but not a dress Genae would have chosen herself. But it was Raylene’s wedding, not hers, and the decisions were Raylene’s to make. Genae had no intention of arguing with any of them.
Which didn’t mean she couldn’t complain about a few other things, “Ouch!” she said as another sharp tip pricked her skin, this time at her waist.
Mrs. O’Neill finally scowled, the first time she had let her determinedly polite smile fade, “I never stick any of my clients with pins. But I rarely deal with anyone as wiggly and fidgety as you, either.”
“Genae, please be still.”
Genae exhaled gustily, then made a quick grab for the slipping strapless bodice of the still-unfitted gown.
“Doesn’t anyone wear sleeves anymore?”
With a show of severely strained patience, Mrs. O’Neill stuck another pin into the bodice to hold it in place. Genae had the feeling she’d just barely missed being stuck again--this time on purpose.
“I’m still, okay?” She struck a pose, facing the mirror, “I won’t move a muscle.”
Though she looked doubtful, Mrs. O’Neill went back to work quickly, perhaps trying to get as much accomplished as possible before Genae changed her mind.
Staying as motionless as she could, Genae studied the reflection of the slender woman in the sophisticated lavender dress. To keep it out of the way, she had twisted her hair up in the back, making her neck look longer and emphasizing her bare shoulders.
The woman in the mirror didn’t look like Genae.
She looked like Raylene.
“Are you almost finished?” She asked the seamstress. Her voice was strained with the effort of being still when what she really wanted to do was rip the lovely dress off and run naked for refuge.
“Yes.” Mrs. O’Neill sounded almost as relieved as Genae felt, “You can change into your own clothes now. I’ll leave your sister to help you. I, uh, have things to do in the other room."
Raylene stepped behind her twin to ease down the zipper hidden at the back of the dress. “I think you tried Mrs. O’Neill’s patience.”
“She certainly tried mine. Those damn pins--I’m probably going to spring leaks next time I drink a glass of water.”
“Oh, stop complaining. It’s over now. And you looked gorgeous in the dress, by the way.”
Genae tugged on the t-shirt and jeans she’d worn to the fitting then pulled the clip from her hair. She had to glance toward the mirror one more time just to make sure she was back to normal.
Raylene turned to hang the dress on a hook, close to the lacy white dress that hung nearby. Raylene had been fitted into that dress just prior to Genae’s fitting. It was the dress their mother had worn in her wedding thirty-two years earlier. At 5”5, Raylene and Genae were a couple of inches taller than their mother, which had necessitated the addition of a row of lace at the hem of the dress, taken from the mantilla-style veil their mother had worn. Other than that, Raylene wanted no changes made to the pretty, but very simple gown.
It was going to be a sweet, unpretentious, lovely wedding, Genae mused. It suited Raylene perfectly.
Raylene sat on a tiny, padded chair to put on her shoes. Genae flopped on the floor to slide into her sneakers, “So how’s it going with Brian?” Raylene asked, keeping her voice casual.
With a quick glance toward the closed door, Genae shrugged, “He’s playing his part to the hilt,” she murmured, mentally reliving that mind-scrambling goodnight kiss.
“I’m still not entirely convinced this is necessary. It seems like you and Brian are being terribly inconvenienced by...well, you know.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Genae bluffed, “Brian seems to be getting a kick out of it all.”
“He does have a rather odd sense of humor.”
“No kidding. Anyway--it’s been days since I’ve heard any speculation that Jonathan heartlessly stole you away from his best friend.”
Raylene nodded to concede the point, “It has helped. Even the ones who are suspicious about what really happened between Brian and I are hesitant to openly talk about it now because they look foolish when we continue to deny it and refuse to be drawn into further discussion about it. And the society articles about your trip to New York referred to you repeatedly as Brian’s ‘frequent companion,’ which makes it sound like you’ve been seen together often.”
“I can handle being wined and dined for another few weeks. After that, life can get back to normal--for me, anyway.” Even as she made the airy assertion, Genae knew life wouldn’t be the same for either of them, really. Raylene would be married to a man whose career involved a lot of travel and perfunctory social obligations, though not as much of either as she would have faced had she married Brian. Genae expected to find herself dealing with much more responsibility at the shop. She would be the one with no other obligations to interfere with the job.
Tugging at the neckline of her t-shirt, she asked, “Is it hot in here to you? I can hardly breathe.”
“I’m almost ready.” After checking her watch, Raylene stood in front of the mirror and ran her fingers through her just-off-the-shoulder, tousled hair. In her khaki flood pants and fitted red cardigan, she looked neat and refreshed as if she’d just stepped out of the shower. Her own hair still disheveled from the clip, Genae felt rumpled and grubby next to her sister--as she often did.
She sighed impatiently when Raylene lingered to apply lipstick, “We’re going to your apartment, not to the theatre. Would you c’mon already?”
Raylene smiled as she put the lipstick away, “Okay, so I’m primping because Jonathan’s picking us up. I know it doesn’t matter to him if I’m wearing lipstick, considering he fell in love with me while we were lost in a forest, all torn and scraped and covered in mud. But I still like to look nice.”
Genae tried to smile, but it still angered her to think about the ordeal Raylene and Jonathan had endured at the hands of their kidnappers. Genae had tried to talk Raylene out of leaving home that week; she’d had a bad feeling about it all along. Raylene had agreed to spend a week with Brian at his vacation lodge in southern Missouri, with the specific intention of discussing the possibility of an old-fashioned marriage-of-convenience between them. Genae had been adamantly opposed to that plan, believing her sister deserved more than a calculated merger.
She’d been aware that Raylene felt her biological clock had been ticking away, as crazy as it sounded, and apparently Brian had, too--or whatever the male equivalent could be called. But she hadn’t agreed that compatible goals and dreams were enough to sustain a life long commitment. Besides which, she simply hadn’t considered Brian a good match for Raylene. She didn’t know why--but every time she saw them together...well, she simply hadn’t liked it.
When Brian had been delayed by business problems in New York, he had asked his trusted second-in-command, Jonathan Lawver, to escort Raylene to the lodge, where Brian had hoped to join her quickly. Before he could do so, Raylene and Jonathan had been snatched by three kidnappers, taken to an isolated forest hideaway and held for ransom until Jonathan had orchestrated an escape into a million-acre forest. Several days of stormy weather and other daunting obstacles has slowed their rescue. For four days, Genae hadn’t known where her sister was--or if she was even alive.
She shuddered with the memory of that horror. And she acknowledged--if only to herself--that Brian had helped her through that time. He’d allowed her to vent her fear, impatience, and her anger--and he’d given her strength by being calm, steady and ferocious in his determination to find his friends and the people who had taken them. When he’d uncovered evidence that one of his business competitors, Charles Donovan, had been the mastermind of the scheme, he’d personally confronted him.
Watching the encounter, Genae had seen exactly how intimidating Brian could be when he dropped the affable façade he wore in social situations. Donovan had literally been in fear of his life when he’d been pinned to the wall by the neck, and had reluctantly confessed everything--and Genae hadn’t blamed the man for being concerned for his own safety.
But Raylene was safe, she reminded herself with a glance at her twin’s happy face. She had abandoned the foolish idea of a convenient marriage in favor of a match based on true love. And Genae was doing her part to facilitate a happily-ever-after ending--for her sister, if not for herself.
Following Raylene out of the fitting room, she slung her oversized leather bag over her shoulder and muttered, “I still don’t think it was necessary for Jonathan to drive us here and pick us up. We’re perfectly capable of getting around on our own.”
“He wanted to,” Raylene answered with a shrug, “He’s still being a little overprotective, but that will change after the wedding. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on it.”
Genae knew she would quickly grow tired of being coddled and protected. She felt stifled enough now; being hovered over the way Jonathan did Raylene would drive her nuts.
Which was why it was just as well she was single and unattached, she assured herself. She needed to be free. She wasn’t the type to be tied down to any man. She’d learned that fact the hard way--with a wannabe cowboy named Kalob.
The sidewalks of Little Rock were crowded late Tuesday evening as Brian strolled toward Mirror Images. Tuesdays and Saturdays were the area’s busiest days during the summer. On those days, vendors gathered beneath the River Market pavilions to sell fresh produce, herbs, breads, flowers and other wares. Serving as a backdrop for the activities, the Arkansas River glittered with reflections of the bright July sun overhead. Locals and tourists in shorts and sandals ambled along the sidewalks, some carrying bulging bags of fresh fruits and veggies, others just window-shopping and enjoying the summer day.
A group of children in matching orange shirts emblazoned with the name of a local daycare center dashed toward him, most likely headed toward the Museum of Discovery at the end of the block. Brian sidestepped the chattering herd adroitly, nodding sympathetically to the adults trying to keep them under control.
He paused to study a grouping of paintings displayed on the sidewalk next to the River Market building, which housed several food stands and restaurants and gift shops. The artist, a striking black woman in a flowing dress and a big straw hat, had chosen vivid colors for her scenes of tropical marketplaces and fishing villages. One canvas in particular caught his attention. He stood in front of it for several minutes, enjoying the colors and the overall impression of cheery, bustling activity. It reminded him of a marketplace he’d visited in Jamaica; he could almost hear the lilting voices and the street musicians in the background.
Ten minutes later, he was on his way again, having left directions with the artist to have his newly purchased painting delivered to his Little Rock office. Brian wasn’t usually an impulse buyer, but he knew what he liked when he saw it, and he was fortunate enough to be able to afford what he liked.
Yet all that money hadn’t helped him find anyone with whom to share his interests. In fact, it had proven a definite hindrance, drawing too much attention to his tentative relationships, and raising doubts about the true motives of the women who had shown an interest in him.
Chiding himself for letting such maudlin thoughts shadow his enjoyment of the nice day, he crossed the street toward the entrance of Mirror Images. Big windows on either side of the door were artfully arranged with uniquely shaped mirrors, framed prints, unusual candlesticks and other decorative wares. The display had drawn its share of attention; several potential customers were milling in the shop when Brian entered. In response to the chime of the bell above the door, Raylene approached with a polite smile that warmed him when she recognized him, “Morning, Brian!”
It was easier to tell the twins apart now that Raylene had cut her hair differently--not that Brian had ever had much trouble recognizing them. Their personalities were so different that he had usually been able to distinguish them by their expressions alone. He took Raylene’s hand, planting a dramatic kiss on it, “Morning. You look beautiful, as always.”
“And you’re full of flattery...as always.” She retorted, though she looked pleased by the compliment, “What’s up?”
“I had a rare couple of hours free...thought I’d pop in to visit. If I’m not interfering with your work, of course.”
“'Course not. Justin can handle the sales floor for a few minutes,” Raylene replied with a nod toward her salesclerk, “He’ll call for me if he needs any help. Come have some coffee with me.”
Aware of the attention they were receiving from her customers, he accepted promptly, “Sure.”
The small office Raylene shared with her sister never failed to elicit a grin from Brian. Raylene’s side of the room was neat, organized, not a sheet of paper out of place; Genae’s desk was so cluttered it was a wonder she could find her chair. Above Raylene’s desk hung a framed museum print of a Monet water lilies painting. Genae’s poster depicted a shiny ebony Thunderbird convertible. She’d told him once that she’d love to own one, someday. Brian had impulsively offered to buy her one as compensation for her inconveniences because of his scheme to take media attention from Raylene and Jonathan. Genae had let him know in clear and concise terms that she’d fulfill her own dreams, thank you very much.
His amusement turning wry with the memory, he asked casually, “Where’s Genae?”
“It was her turn to run errands--the bank, the post office, the office supplies store.”
Brian wouldn’t admit to Raylene, of course, that he’d been disappointed that Genae wasn’t there when he arrived. It was disconcerting enough to acknowledge to himself that it was Genae who had drawn him here today, “How’s she holding up?” he asked, “With the scam we’re pulling off, I mean.”
Raylene wrinkled her nose as she removed two mugs from a small cabinet at one corner of the room, “She fusses about it, of course. But Genae does love to fuss.”
He chuckled, “I’ve noticed.”
“And she is not happy that one of your men is following at a discreet distance while she runs her errands.”
“Tough. Fussing won’t do her any good when it comes to her security--not while I have anything to say about it, anyway.”
Genae poured coffee into the two mugs, “Dad used to call us Sissy and Sassy. I was Sissy, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Anyway, he stopped calling us that when we were about twelve. Genae threatened to run away if he didn’t.”
“And, knowing her, she would have followed through on that threat.”
“Daddy must have thought so. He dropped the nicknames.”
There had been a time when Brian had considered Genae’s mercurial, temperamental tendencies annoying. Yet the better he got to know her, the more he enjoyed being with her. And the better he understood her. If from early childhood she had been known as the “difficult” twin, it was certainly understandable that she’d gotten into the habit of living up to the reputation.
There was something else, too. Some hidden part of her that he hadn’t quite figured out yet. He was becoming more determined all the time to try.
“What about you?” Raylene asked, handing him his coffee, “Are you growing tired of the charade yet? You know, of course, that you can stop anytime if it’s becoming too uncomfortable for you. You’ve already diffused a great deal of the gossip that was upsetting Jonathan so badly a few weeks ago.”
“True--but there’s no need to risk having it resurface before your wedding. Besides, I’m rather enjoying keeping the tattle mongers guessing.”
“I know you love playing practical jokes, especially on the tabloid writers, but you’re spending a lot of time with my sister--who, you have to admit, has not been your biggest fan in the past and isn’t shy about expressing her feelings.”
He sipped his drink, then spoke lightly, “I don’t minding spending time with her. She’s certainly...challenging.”
Raylene laughed, “She is that. Gen is rarely boring, you have to give her that.”
“She’s never boring,” he corrected with a smile.
Studying him speculatively over the rim of her mug, she muttered, “You sound as though you’re starting to like my sister.”
“Of course I like her. I’ve always liked her--even when she fantasized about hiring some big beefy guy named Bubba to make me conveniently disappear from your life.”
Raylene laughed, “Now you’re exaggerating. She was simply concerned that we were acting impulsively when we discussed the possibility of marriage--and it turned out she was right. You know full well that you would have changed your mind, but you were polite enough to let me be the one to put it into words.”
Brian had asked himself several times if he would have actually married Raylene had she not fallen in love with Jonathan. It had seemed like a good idea; they had both been eager to be married and have families. He had finally convinced himself that a marriage of minds, rather than emotions, was the only solution. Maybe his background had left him unprepared for anything else.
His own parents’ marriage had been a profitable merger between two business dynasties. Once they’d done their duty and produced an heir to the “throne”, they’d been more than happy to pretty much go their own ways. Divorce had never been an option; since neither interfered with the other, there’d been no need to put an end to their partnership. The marriage had actually been a convenient excuse for both of them, since neither had been interested in marrying again. Brian had grown up knowing that his parents loved him, in their own busy, distracted ways, and tolerated each other when it was socially necessary, though they got along just fine.
The telephone on Raylene’s desk rang suddenly, interrupting his reminiscences. She answered with her professional voice, but then her tone warmed. Brian knew immediately who was on the other end of the line. He’d never seen Raylene react this way to anyone but Jonathan.
She’d never felt even remotely the same way about him.
“I can leave as soon as Genae comes back,” he heard her say into the phone, “It should be no more than half an hour.”
Brian stood, intending to leave her to finish her call in privacy, but she stopped him with a motion of her hand, “I’ll see you in half an hour.” she told her fiancé, then disconnected the call.
“Jonathan just called to see if I’m free for lunch,” she explained to Brian after returning the receiver to its cradle, “You don’t have to rush off.”
He remained on his feet, “I’ve kept you from your work long enough. I just wanted to say hello...” he motioned to his mug as he sat it down in the mini sink along the wall, “Thanks for the coffee.”
She rose and moved closer, smiling, “I enjoyed the visit. You’ve always been a good friend...I’m glad we’ve been able to maintain that relationship after all...this.”
“So am I.” He replied immediately, “And since the man you’re marrying is like a brother to me, we’re almost family anyway.” He allowed a smile.
Her own smile deepened, “I like that.”
“So do I.” Feeling rather as if he was officially sealing the new status of their friendship, he leaned over to brush a kiss against her cheek.
“Sorry. Am I interrupting?”
Genae’s dry question drew their attention toward the doorway. Raylene had left the door partially ajar, so neither she nor Brian had heard Genae open it. She stood in the doorway now with her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed as she looked from him to Raylene and back again.
Moving a step away from Raylene, Brian nodded, “Hey, Genae, how’s it going?”
“Fine. Raylene, Justin needs you at the counter. Something about a special order for someone...”
“Oh, right. I’ll go take care of that before Jonathan comes to take me to lunch.”
Still giving Brian a look that made him feel as though he should shuffle his feet and apologize for something--anything--Genae moved out of her sister’s way. She stepped back into the doorway before Brian could follow Raylene out, “What are you doing here?”
“It’s nice to see you, too. You look great, by the way. I’ve always liked you in blue.”
Genae’s reaction to his flattery was just the opposite of her sister’s. She seemed to grow even more suspicious of him, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Why am I here? I had a couple free hours--okay, actually I ducked a meeting that seemed both pointless and boring. I took a walk through the market district and ended up here. Raylene poured some coffee for me and we had a nice chat. Would you like a transcript of our conversation?”
She didn’t respond to the lame jest except to glare even harder, “It doesn’t look right--you kissing my sister when she’s engaged to someone else.”
“Jealous?” He shot back, holding on to his patience with an effort.
Her cheeks flamed--a response he found quite interesting, “Don’t be an asshole. I’m just thinking about what the gossip columnists would write if someone reported to them that you were kissing Raylene in her office. The whole point of this game we’re all playing is to defuse any talk about you and my sister, remember?”
“It was a friendly peck on the cheek, nothing more. No one saw us except you--and I doubt you’re going to alert the media. And I’m tired of standing here defending my actions to you. So, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.”
She moved slowly out of his way as he approached, “I simply...”
He didn’t want to hear any more lecturing from her at the moment, “See you around.” He muttered.
On an impulse, he stopped in front of her and reached out to thread his fingers into her hair, pulling her to him. He crushed his lips to hers before she could guess his intentions, “Report that to the media,” he murmured after he released her, then turned and made a hasty exit.
