Chapter One

The three teens sat on the end of the rickety wooden dock at the pond.

“Today’s my thirteenth birthday,” Daphne Petty told the boy at her side, giving him a coy look and winding a bright red lock of hair around her finger. “You know what that means, right?”

“That it’s Audrey’s birthday, too?” Cade glanced around Daphne’s shoulder to smile at the quieter twin.

Audrey gave him a shy smile, flustered that he’d remembered her. She sat on the opposite side of her vivacious, flirty twin, saying nothing. That was usually how it went. Daphne commanded attention and Audrey just sort of stood by her side. Not that she minded much. Daphne was also the bad twin, and Audrey liked being the good twin. You got into trouble a lot less when you were the good twin, and if there was one thing Audrey hated, it was being in trouble.

“That’s not it,” Daphne said with a pout. She nudged his shoulder. “Pay attention to me.”

Instantly, Cade’s amused gaze went back to Daphne. “I am paying attention to you.”

“No, you’re paying attention to Audrey. Don’t you like me, Cade?” She continued to twist that lock of hair around her finger, imitating a move they’d seen their older sister Gretchen pull, to great effect. Gretchen always had interest from boys, and Daphne wanted to learn everything she knew.

“I like both of you,” Cade said in a cheerful voice, then ruffled Daphne’s hair like she was a child. “You two are my friends.”

“Best friends,” Audrey said shyly, swinging her legs.

Daphne rolled her eyes at her twin. “We can’t be best friends with a guy. Guys can only be boyfriends.”

Cade choked on a laugh. “You two are too young for me. I’m fifteen now. You just turned thirteen.”

“Well, it’s my—” she turned to look at her twin “—our birthday and you need to give us a present.”

Cade tugged on the frayed collar of his shirt. It was faded and worn, much like everything he owned. No one talked about it, but the Archers were the poorest family on a rather low-end block of the neighborhood, poorer even than Audrey and Daphne’s parents, who worked long hours for little pay. “I don’t have money, Daphne. I can’t get a job until next year, remember?”

“It’s okay,” Audrey said. “You can give us something that doesn’t cost anything.”

“Like?”

A kiss, Audrey thought dreamily, staring at Cade’s handsome blue eyes and blond hair.

“You could teach us how to make out with a boy,” Daphne said slyly, that wicked tone in her voice. “I need to practice so I’m ready for my first boyfriend.”

Cade sputtered. “Make out? I don’t think so. You two are like my little sisters.”

That was not the first time he’d referred to them as his little sisters. It crushed Audrey’s heart a bit, but she could tell her twin was undeterred. Daphne usually didn’t take no for an answer.

“Maybe just a hug, then?” Daphne asked sweetly.

“Of course,” Cade told her, leaning in and reaching an arm around Daphne.

Daphne immediately wrapped her arms around Cade and thrust her mouth against his, trapping him into a surprise kiss. Audrey’s jaw dropped in shock as her twin kissed—no, mauled—the boy she knew that Audrey had a crush on. Their friend.

Cade made a noise of surprise and tried to pull away, but Daphne clung to him like a leech.

“Daph, stop it,” Audrey hissed. Anger began to bubble inside her. How dare Daphne make a scene with Cade. It was bad enough that she monopolized him constantly. “Just stop it!”

But Daphne didn’t stop. She made a loud mmmmm in the back of her throat, just to goad Audrey.

So Audrey shoved her twin into the pond.

Daphne fell with a splash and a yell, and Cade barely managed to scramble backward onto the dock. He stared at Audrey in surprise.

That was okay, because Audrey was pretty surprised at her actions, too.

Dang it. There went her impulsive temper. Audrey tried to keep it under control, she really did, but sometimes it got the better of her.

Like right now.

Daphne surfaced in the pond’s scummy water, screeching as she flailed. “Audrey, you suck!” she yelled. “Cade, help me out!”

“That was not cool, Audrey,” Cade told her, leaning over the side of the dock and extending a hand to Daphne. When she continued to flounder in the water, he sighed and looked over at Audrey, who stood on the dock, frozen in horror.

She tried so hard to be the good twin, she really did.

“Here, hold this,” Cade told her, and pulled off his T-shirt. Then he jumped into the water and grabbed Daphne, who went into his arms, sobbing, and began to pull her to the nearby shore.

A moment later, both of them were dripping on the bank of the shore. Audrey still stood on the dock, clutching Cade’s shirt and mortified by what she’d done. She’d pushed her twin in, all because Daphne’d been kissing the boy Audrey wanted.

But it wasn’t just any boy. It was Cade. Audrey had adored him for what seemed like forever, and Daphne only wanted him because Audrey did. That was how it always went.

“You came for me,” Daphne sobbed, clinging to Cade.

“Of course,” he soothed. “I’ll always come for you, Daph. You know I will.”

It was true. Though two years separated them in age, the three of them had roamed their neighborhood for years, fishing for crawdads, playing in the pond, and riding bikes. It never failed that Daphne would get into some sort of scrape—like the time she’d pulled up a manhole and climbed down—and Cade would have to come after her.

Daphne caused trouble, and Cade rescued her. And Audrey stood by, because she was the good twin.

Until today, of course, when Audrey’s temper got the better of her, and she’d suddenly become the bad twin in a blink.

Daphne wiped streaming hair off her brow and scowled at Audrey. “I’m going to the house and telling Mom. You’ll be sorry, Audrey.” She turned and stomped off, heading back to the neighborhood.

Audrey sucked in a breath. She was totally going to be grounded.

“Looks like the birthday celebration’s going to end early,” Cade told her, heading down the dock and reaching for his shirt. He pulled it over his head and then ran his fingers through his wet hair.

“It’s okay,” Audrey said. “She’ll forgive me. We’re twins. We can’t stay mad at each other.”

Cade smiled, reaching out and ruffling Audrey’s hair. “Well, since you’re twins, I can’t give one a present and not the other, can I?”

And he leaned in and kissed her on her freckled cheek.

Audrey flushed bright red, her mouth gaping.

Cade pulled back, tousled her hair again, and grinned. “Happy birthday, Audrey.” When she continued to stand there, he added, “You should probably go home and check on Daph.”

Audrey nodded, then raced after Daphne. Her cheek throbbed in the perfect, perfect spot where he’d kissed her.

Sure enough, Audrey was grounded that day. Daphne had sobbed her story to their parents, who were appropriately horrified. Audrey was sent to bed early, without TV or computer while they let Daphne stay up late, feasting on birthday cake. Daphne was upset, and that was almost as bad as getting in trouble on its own.

As of that day, Audrey learned two things.

One, that she was never going to slip up and be the bad twin again.

And two, that she was absolutely, without a doubt, in love with Cade Archer.

***

Twelve years later

Audrey glanced in the bathroom mirror, smoothed a stray lock of hair into her tight bun, and then straightened her jacket for the eighth time that morning.

Time to approach the boss.

She left the bathroom, her nerves tingling with a mixture of dread and wariness. Not that her outward expression showed it. She was very good about remaining calm and in control in a stressful situation, and this was definitely a situation. Her low heels clicking on the marble floors of Hawkings Conglomerate’s headquarters, she swept the mail out of the delivery basket and returned to her desk. Once she’d sorted all the envelopes for Logan’s personal attention, she rubber-banded the rest and set them into her mailbox to attend to later.

Her hand paused over the tabloid on her desk. After a moment’s indecision, she folded the magazine in half lengthwise and tucked it under her arm. Then, with mail in hand, she headed to Logan Hawkings’s closed door and rapped twice.

“Enter,” he called.

She did, her stomach churning just a bit.

He didn’t look up as she approached, continuing to type on his laptop. As was their usual routine, Audrey moved to his outbox and picked up any outgoing memos or faxes that he needed her to handle. She slipped his personal mail into his inbox, picked up his faxes, and glanced over at him. But she couldn’t make her mouth form the request.

So she stalled. “Coffee, Mr. Hawkings?”

“Thank you.”

She moved to the Keurig machine in her adjoining office and brewed him a cup, waiting impatiently for the machine to finish. Once it was done, she sweetened it, added creamer, and stirred, all the while mentally cursing herself for not broaching the conversation yet. She returned to his office with the cup in hand and set it on his desk.

Again, he didn’t look up.

“Dry cleaning today, Mr. Hawkings?”

“No.” He picked up the mug and gave her a suspicious look. “Something wrong?”

And here she thought she’d hidden it so well. Audrey clutched the folded tabloid in her hand, hesitating in front of his desk. “I . . . need some time off work.”

Over his coffee mug, Logan frowned. “Time off?”

Just as she’d thought, it hadn’t gone over well. In the three and a half years since she’d been working for Logan Hawkings, she’d never missed a day of work. She was here before he was, left after he did, and took her vacation time concurrent with his so as not to disrupt his schedule.

She was the model employee. She kept things quiet and running as smoothly as possible for Mr. Hawkings. When he needed something handled, she took care of it.

And she never, never asked for time off until today.

Audrey swallowed. “I’m afraid so.”

“How much time off?”

“I . . . don’t know. It’s a personal matter.” And very quietly, she unfolded the tabloid and offered it to him.

Logan tossed it down on his desk, eyeing the picture on the cover. The headline was a bold yellow that screamed out of the grainy photo. POP PRINCESS CAUGHT IN A COKE-FUELED ORGY! PICTURES ON PAGE 17! And there was the unmistakable face of her twin, blade-thin, her hair matted and dyed a hideous shade of black, a dopey smile on her face as she snorted lines in a club bathroom and leaned on an equally dopey-looking pair of men. Audrey didn’t know who they were. She never knew who Daphne ran with anymore. Daphne’s manager handled all that . . . theoretically. She suspected Daphne’s manager took care of his own needs first, and Daphne’s second.

Logan glanced at the magazine, then back up at her. “Your sister?”

She nodded succinctly. “I understand that this is an inconvenience, but I’ve taken extra precautions to ensure that your schedule is not interrupted. I talked with Cathy in personnel, and she’s agreed to send a temp for me to train on daily duties.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’ll make sure she’s prepared before I leave. I’ll have my phone with me so you can contact me—or she can—if you need something. And I’ve made sure that your address book and calendar are up to date. The meeting next week—”

“It’s fine, Audrey. Take the time you need.” He folded the magazine and offered it back to her. “I take it you’re getting her some help?”

She took it from him, her fingers trembling with a rush of relief. “She refuses to go to rehab, but she’s agreed to go away for a time if I go with her. No parties, no drugs. I’m basically going to chaperone and try to get her to sober up.” She hesitated. “It might be a few weeks. It might be longer. If that’s a problem—”

“It’s fine.”

“If you need personal errands run—”

“I said it’s fine, Audrey.” Now he was getting annoyed with her. She could tell by the set of his eyebrows. “If I have personal errands, I’ll ask Brontë to step in and help. It’s not a big deal. Take the time that you need. Your family comes first.”

Words that she’d never thought she’d hear billionaire Logan Hawkings say. His fiancée must have mellowed him quite a bit. She nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Hawkings. I’ll make the arrangements with Cathy.”

“Close the door when you leave.” He turned back to his computer and began to type again.

She quietly exited his office, then shut the door behind her. Only when it was shut did she allow herself to lean against it, the breath whistling out of her in relief.

That had gone much better than she’d anticipated. Mellowed out, indeed. Two years ago—heck, six months ago—Logan would have given a few thinly veiled hints that if she’d valued her job, she’d find a way to make things happen. He paid her very well, after all, and if she couldn’t find a way to perform her job to his satisfaction, he’d find someone who could.

Of course, that was BH—Before Hurricane. And before Brontë. Still, Audrey hadn’t relished asking him for the favor. Logan knew she was twins with Daphne; he’d met her at a rather unfortunate dinner party once. Most people didn’t know she had a twin, and Audrey didn’t volunteer the information. She’d learned the hard way that the conversation usually went in one of three directions:

Scenario one: Oh, my God. You’re related to Daphne Petty? The Daphne Petty? The singer? Can you get me her autograph? Free tickets? A visit to my kid’s birthday party?

Scenario two: Daphne Petty? Really? You don’t look anything like her. She’s so thin and glamorous. You’re . . . not.

Or Scenario three: Daphne Petty? You poor thing. Is she really like that?

Scenario one was simply annoying, but she’d learned to deflect it a long time ago. No, she couldn’t get free swag/tickets/CDs of Daphne’s latest. No, she couldn’t have Daphne show up at someone’s birthday party. She kept business cards of the manager of Daphne’s fan club and handed them out when pressed.

Scenario two was irritating, but again, she’d learned to deal with it a long time ago. Stage Daphne dressed in wild, colorful outfits and thick makeup. She never left her car without six-inch heels, a thick fringe of fake eyelashes, and her hair dyed some trendy shade. She’d gone Hollywood thin years ago at her label’s suggestion (though secretly Audrey suspected drugs more than a healthy diet) and it was just another way that Audrey no longer looked like her twin.

Audrey’s hair was straight, smooth, and a pale orange-red that hadn’t faded when childhood did. Her skin was still lightly freckled, which was only obvious when she didn’t wear makeup. She never wore much, either because it would have looked out of place with her conservative business suits. And she was several sizes larger than Daphne. Where her twin had been a svelte size two, Audrey was soft, curvy, and just this side of plump. She didn’t wear false eyelashes or six-inch heels. She looked like Daphne, but only if one squinted hard and compared photos.

She was used to being insulted about her looks and being asked for favors. But worst of all was scenario three: the pity. The look she’d come to recognize all too closely in the last two years. The look on someone’s face as they recalled one of the more recent tabloids with Daphne’s escapades splashed across them, her stints of jail time, her public fiascos, the rumors of drugs, alcohol, men, and excess. The train wreck that bright, wild Daphne Petty had become.

And Audrey hadn’t been able to do a thing about it. She’d stood by, helpless, as her headstrong twin pushed her away and embraced all that her fast-paced lifestyle had to offer.

It was killing her. And that was why Audrey hated the pity more than anything else. Because she desperately wanted to do something about it, and now she had the chance. Daphne had called her last night at three in the morning, crying, from the back of a squad car. She’d called Audrey instead of her handlers, and though she’d been in LA instead of someplace that Audrey could have actually helped out with, her sister’s misery had broken her heart.

Daphne was reaching out to her. She wanted help. Not rehab, she said, because that would be all over the tabloids and she’d already been to rehab twice, without success. Just a chance to get away and reconnect with her old life, with Audrey’s assistance. This time, Daphne swore, it was going to be different. This time she’d leave behind the drugs and alcohol, if Audrey would just help her. She didn’t trust anyone else.

And so Audrey had promised to help. She’d go away with her twin. Put her life on hold and come to Daphne’s aid once again. She’d soothed her weeping twin on the phone, and then quietly contacted Daphne’s management about the most recent visit to the police station. Like most of Daphne’s incidents, they were able to make things disappear and Daphne was released from custody and flying to New York in the morning.

And then Audrey would start the slow process of finding Daphne again. Hopefully.

***

Audrey nibbled on a pretzel stick, flipping the pages of the latest romance novel she’d picked up at the supermarket. She checked the clock, then sighed and dug back into the pretzel bag. It was late and she was in her pajamas. Daphne’s plane was supposed to have landed hours ago, and she had promised—promised—to come straight to Audrey’s apartment from the airport. Audrey had volunteered to meet her twin, but Daphne had demurred, laughing it off and claiming she knew her way around New York just fine.

Except that the later it got into the night, the more positive Audrey was that her twin had made a few pit stops along the way. And it made her furious.

Some time after one a.m., she heard a knock at her door, and then a giggle. Stifling her irritation, she headed to the door and checked the peephole. Sure enough, there was Daphne, along with a stranger. Audrey unchained the door, flipped the lock, and flung the door open to glare balefully at Daphne and her companion.

Daphne leaned heavily on a tall, skinny man wearing black clothes and enormous plugs in his ears. He had several brow rings, neck tattoos, and a bright green faux-hawk. Daphne was, as usual, a disaster. Her jeans and T-shirt were stained, her hair was in a messy braid that hung over one shoulder, and the small suitcase at her side had shed clothes all down the hall. They both listed to the side and couldn’t stop giggling despite Audrey’s clear displeasure.

They were drunk. Sloppy drunk.

“You were supposed to be here hours ago, Daphne,” Audrey told her. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

Daphne shrugged, pushing her way into Audrey’s apartment. “The flight sucked and made me all tense, so Stan and I went out for a nightcap.”

Audrey eyed Stan as Daphne staggered past her. When her date tried to follow, Audrey put a hand on his chest, stopping him. She gave him a polite smile. “Thanks for bringing her home.”

He grinned, showing a gold tooth. “Don’t I get to come in, too?”

“No, you don’t.”

He looked as if he’d argue, but then began to head back to the elevator, too wasted to even realize he’d just abandoned his famous hookup. Audrey quickly shut the door and re-bolted it, then turned to glare at Daphne.

Her sister was passed out, face down, on Audrey’s couch.

“I don’t believe you, Daph,” Audrey said. “Drinking? Weren’t you coming out here to clean up?”

“Tomorrow,” Daphne mumbled from the couch cushions, not bothering to get up. “I’m starting tomorrow. Quit yelling.”

“I’m not yelling!” Audrey bellowed, then winced when the neighbor pounded on the wall in response. Frustrated, Audrey grabbed Daphne’s suitcase and hauled it to the bedroom. Fine then. Daphne wanted to be like that? Audrey wouldn’t give her a choice in the matter. She’d simply have to take control—again—and save Daphne from herself.

Tossing the suitcase on her bed, she returned to the living room to grab Daphne’s purse. On the couch, her sister snored, oblivious to Audrey’s movements. Audrey snagged the purse, returned to the bed, and dumped the contents out.

The usual clutter fell onto the bedspread—half a protein bar, three lipsticks, a few pens, hair clips, and credit cards. Several prescription bottles fell out as well, and Audrey bit her lip, frowning as she read the names. Two of them weren’t even Daphne’s prescriptions.

She flushed those, along with the small baggy of white powder she found. Daphne would be pissed when she woke up, but Audrey didn’t care. Next, she searched the luggage and found several more pill bottles under different names, more drugs, and a thick packet tucked into the liner of her suitcase. It all went into the garbage, and with every item tossed, Audrey grew more and more determined.

Daphne wanted Audrey’s help in getting clean? She was willing to help, all right, but she was pretty sure Daphne wasn’t going to appreciate it. And that was too damn bad for her twin, because Audrey was in this for the long haul.

She returned to the living room and watched Daphne, snoring, on her couch. Makeup was smeared across Daphne’s delicate features, and her mouth hung open, slack, as she slept.

Audrey would get her twin back. No ifs, ands, or buts. Daphne would be furious and threaten her, but it didn’t matter.

Audrey had to do this once and for all, because it felt as if she’d already lost Daphne.

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 555