Switched, Bothered and Bewildered (9 page)

Still, 1965 plungy was not that indecent. Jillian wondered if she'd be over the top for Dean. She dug in the bottom of the closet and found a great pair of vintage black suede pumps with tiny bows from the same era. Jana Lee should stick to vintage stores, this stuff was cute. At least their feet were still identical even if their bodies weren't anymore.

Jillian flipped up her hair with the hot curling iron plugged in by the mirrored dresser, just to complete the look.

The doorbell rang. The dog barked. That couldn't be him. She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty already? Damn. She heard Carly's footsteps pounding down the stairs. Oh, let her get the door. Jillian needed a few more minutes. Besides, since their talk this afternoon, Carly had been busy gutting her room. She probably needed to switch the loads around in the washer.

Jillian sure hadn't thought out this switcheroo stuff very well. The moms from the rugrat brigade all knew it was Jana Lee's sister, because Jana Lee had called each one of them personally. The supermarket people thought she was Jana Lee spiffed up from the spa and Carly knew it was her, but Dean thought she was Jana Lee. Jillian's head spun with it all. Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we conspire to deceive. Her dad used to say that to them when they'd try to lie their way out of something as kids. Correction: When
she
lied. Jana Lee just didn't do that kind of thing.

Speaking of webs, Jillian twisted herself a few times in front of the mirror to make sure she didn't look too Vampira in this getup, then grabbed her own red lipstick and gave herself a quick painting. There. That ought to do it.

She sauntered down the stairs calmly but noticed that her heart was beating pretty darn fast. Hopefully she wouldn't have a panic attack on a date with the repair guy, for goodness' sake. She'd dated CEOs of San Francisco corporations. She could do this.

No one was in the living room. Her entrance was for nothing. She followed voices and found Carly and Dean—and Monty the dog—looking into the washing machine, talking.

"We probably should have run a rag load first. I hope it comes out," Dean spoke into the washer.

"What comes out?" Jillian looked over their shoulders.

"Some funky streaks on my sheets," Carly said. She looked up at her aunt and got a goofy look on her face.

What?
Jillian thought.
Is my hair sticking up?

"Let's run it through again. Maybe it will wash out." Dean pulled the detergent off the upper shelf, measured out a double capful and started the machine back up. He shut the lid carefully, removing Monty from his odd position, and turned to see Jillian. Dean got the goofy look too.

"You clean up good," he grinned.

She was thinking the same thing about him. Black T-shirt, black leather jacket, nice jeans. He was yummy. His dark hair and deeply tanned face made him look like he'd just flown back from the
Mediterranean. He must work outside. He was taller than she remembered. Maybe because he wasn't hunched over washer parts. "So do you, Dean. What's the plan, Dew Drop Inn Tavern?"

"Something like that. Carly, are you okay with this? Run a load of those old wet towels. It should only take one time through, but don't move to the nice stuff for a few more. Jeans next."

"I've got plenty of all of that, thanks, Dean." Carly winked at Jillian over his shoulder in a very
I'm not good at winking
way, but Jillian got the idea. Dean was on the okay list for now.

"Carly,
honey,
I'll be back early. Don't forget your homework."

"Yes,
Mother,
I won't forget."

Okay, they sounded completely lame. Jillian had to get Dean out of here. "Let's ride, Dean." She grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter. "Oh, I owe you for this afternoon. Write me up an invoice and we'll do it over a drink."

"Romantic type, aren't you?" Dean took Jil-lian's elbow and guided her out of the utility room door, not letting Monty follow. He moved with her down the steps to the driveway.

"Excuse me, Dean, but I'm not a delicate flower.

Thanks for the elbow ride, but I can make it on my own." She turned in a rather huffy manner, took one step, caught her slim vintage high heel on a big hunk of gravel, and fell on her face. Well, more like her hands and knees.

Dean picked her up. He actually did. He put his arm around her waist, picked her up and moved her onto a grassy strip next to the house. Then he straightened her up, dusted the dirt off her knees, turned her hands over and looked at her palms. Jillian was so surprised that she let him.

"Looks like minimal damage. Shall we proceed?" He ran his hands over her palms to dispense with any remaining debris. His touch was sexy.
He
was sexy.

Dean opened the truck door for his date and offered her a hand up. She took it, and he watched her slide into place. She was pretty. Very pretty, and very spirited. He shut the door and walked around the back of the truck so he could have a moment to compose himself. He'd been stifling a laugh since she'd bounced onto the ground after the big speech. Who knew this gem was hiding in a suburban one-dog stinker of a house?

He opened up the truck door and climbed in. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready. I'm sorry I was . . . stupid."

"You're just assertive.
 
Nothing wrong with

that." He started up the truck and moved toward the edge of the driveway.

"I didn't used to be. I've changed."

"I see that."

"You knew me before?" she asked.

He thought that was an odd question, but she was a little odd anyhow. "You've probably forgotten I came out and installed a new kitchen faucet for you once."

"I had forgotten."

"You were still pretty messed up from your husband's passing away." He regretted saying that right away, but facts were facts.

He heard a whole lot of silence on her side of the truck.

He better make small talk, although he was pretty bad at it. "Your spa visit must have helped. You look great."

"Yes, it was very refreshing." Jillian felt like a first-class heel lying to Dean. She'd blundered in like her usual self and forgotten how hard it would be to be her sister. She herself had a great deal of pain over Bill's death, but Jana Lee's entire life had been derailed. All the more reason she should make a better effort to play her sister and get something going with Dean.

Already she figured she should have thought twice before asking him on this date. Too close for

comfort. She should have played it cooler. Her sister sure would have. Then again, her sister hadn't had a date in a long, long time, so there you go. She was stuck in a corner.

Jillian looked out the window at the green, beautiful trees as they drove out on the main road. Fir trees dipping graceful bows down toward the road, alders all decked in summer leaves. "Pretty country around here." Oh, brother, this was so much harder than she'd thought. Jana Lee had been here for years.

"Yes, we forget how beautiful this area is," Dean commented.

"Being away and all, I notice it more now," she stumbled around.

"Have you ever been to Manor Farm Inn?"

"Can't say I have." Boy, was that true. She had no idea where Jana Lee had been or not been. "Is that our destination?"

"Yes. The owner is a friend of mine. She's a patron of the arts, so to speak. Her husband is the chef. I know you said a drink, but have you had dinner?"

"Well, actually, no."

"Then in the interest of not ending up loopy, they've offered to make a little dinner for us. I hope you don't mind meeting people."

"Why would I mind? Bring it on." Jillian couldn't stand herself anymore. She was wonder-

ing if Jana Lee had ever met this lady at Manor Farm. For all she knew, it could be one of the rug-rat parents. "Do they have kids?"

"Two older boys in college. They come back summers and work the farm with them. It's a few miles down this road."

"Great." Jillian shut up. She'd have to find a way to converse with this guy more like her sister would. What had she been thinking? She wasn't as good at this as she'd thought she would be. She bit her nail. A big chip of her red polish came off. Damn, being a biter she didn't have much in the way of nails anyhow. Dating was probably not on the list of things to do when you were trying to de-stress. She felt like she was going to implode.

Dean must have noticed. "Don't worry, we'll have a great time. Relax. I know first dates are weird. It's been a long time for me, too."

"It has?"
Ah ha,
she thought. She could just make him talk about himself! "How long?" she asked.

"I didn't want to get right into it, but I had a long-term relationship with a woman. She died of cancer."

"I'm so sorry."

"So, I guess we have something in common."

Jillian felt like the lowliest worm imaginable. If she got out of this date without slinking into snake form, it would be a miracle. God would get her for this. She better be careful in lightning storms.

*
    
*
    
*

The Manor Farm Inn was charming. The hostess and owner, Fran, was a gracious older woman, and the table she and her husband, Teo, had set for them was picture-perfect, on a brick patio covered with a rustic twig canopy, draped in climbing roses and wisteria. Dean did date good.

Teo poured them a glass of white wine. He asked her a few questions about the food, whether she liked capers, and if she was allergic to anything. Mighty thoughtful. No menu, she guessed, just a surprise. Teo shook Dean's hand again, and Fran left a warm basket of bread, olive oil with balsamic vinegar, and the bottle of wine for them to enjoy.

Nice folks. When Dean had introduced her as Jana Lee, Jillian had felt sick. She closed her eyes and let the sun warm her face as she sat back in the cushions of her wicker chair. She sipped her wine. If it hadn't been for the fact that she was lying her head off to nice people, she'd have found the relaxation she was looking for. She opened her eyes briefly and saw that Dean was drinking his wine, relaxing and watching her intently.

She closed her eyes again. Maybe she'd wake up and find herself in a nice office somewhere with a budget to balance. Maybe Dean would turn into a really horrible date and start hassling the help and acting like he was God's gift to the universe in-

stead of being a very interesting, talented guy with great taste.

Maybe she'd just let guilt overcome her and melt her onto the brick patio in a pool of bad-girl ooze like the wicked witch of the west in
The Wizard ofOz.

⁶

Sister Twister

Gloria Kissinger was not related to Henry which would no doubt have helped her chances with the Hawks family and her relationship with
Jackson. The humiliation she felt at his disinterest in her after their perfect night was more than she could stand, and yet she was still compelled to correct his thinking on that score. He just didn't realize how good she'd be as a mate. Or how much better she could do the comptroller job than Jillian Tompkins. Gloria was all about control.

But to have Jillian move in and take
both
spots was just beyond Gloria's ability to bear. Her only solace was that
Jackson was prone to losing interest in women extremely quickly. Perhaps another week and he'd dump her like he did all the others.

If there was one thing her harsh, demanding father had taught her, it was that vigilance paid off. She'd been watching Jillian very closely at every meeting, every coffee break, every company holiday bash and Softball game for the past two years.

Gloria had actually taken a special personal day to celebrate when Jillian had cracked up and tried to pound the vending machine into submission. But now something was up with Jillian Tompkins.

When she'd returned, Gloria had spotted a significant difference right away. No way had she rounded out that much in one week. No way had she turned all soft and nice in
one week.
Was she the only one with a brain around here? That just simply wasn't Jillian Tompkins, it just looked like her.

That made Gloria's mind reel with all sorts of sci-fi possibilities—had Jillian been cloned? Was she a robot? Gloria had always thought the term
artificial intelligence
applied well to Jillian. Gloria decided she'd been watching too many
Deep Space Nine
reruns. It hadn't taken much poking around to find out Jillian Tompkins had a twin sister. One Google search had brought up their former child-star status.

Whatever was going on, Gloria decided it was in her best interest to continue to observe and stay quiet, although it gave her a twitch in her left eyelid to know that the Tompkins office had received a huge flower delivery this morning. What had

that imposter woman done to deserve that, she wondered?

The office was full of flowers: big, huge, extremely fragrant, blousy, romantic, white lilies. Jana Lee saw Ollie peering out between two large crystal vases.

"Apparently your date went well?" Ollie commented more than asked.

"Sort of. He's a bit of an arrogant ass." Jana Lee stood in front of Ollie's desk like she was in the principal's office.

"He's the arrogant vice president ass, so keep that in mind. We want your sister to return to her current position and not end up in the mail room doing ship-outs." Ollie tapped on the desk with a black pencil. "Get yourself settled in, I've got some things to go over with you. Did you get your tea yet?"

"No, sir."

"I took the liberty of having a hot water pot installed in your office, and a selection of teas brought over."

"Why, thank you, Ollie."

"You are most welcome. Fewer trips to the coffee room for you will be better all around."

"Gee, here I thought it was a gesture of kindness."

"It was. It's kinder to your sister for you to stay in this office as much as possible."

Jana Lee smirked at Ollie, but knew he was right. She had a different air than her sister Jillian. Her clothes hung differently, her makeup was softer, her whole attitude was less "killer," and an observant eye would catch that, just as Oliver had. Fortunately Jillian was right when she'd said observant eyes were in the minority here at Pitman. So far she'd gotten by practically unnoticed.

She scurried into the office and set the black briefcase in its usual spot on the credenza, then searched out the tea maker. There it was on a long counter with sleek cupboards below and above. She'd snooped into them a little and found nothing but files and fat three-ring binders with titles like Production Data 2000 labeled on them.

No wonder her sister had burned out. Her head was full of numbers. Numbers were weird. When Jana Lee had had to take over the job of paying bills and figuring out the household budget it had given her genuine headaches. There was a reason her husband had handled all that before. But she did have a certain sense of accomplishment when everything turned out balanced these days.

She hoped Jillian was getting some rest. Jana Lee had avoided calling her so Jillian wouldn't click into work mode and ask her a bunch of questions. So far, no real emergencies had turned up, just a real eye-opening first day.

Gosh, this place was sterile. Jana Lee paused for

a moment, then marched back into the outer office and grabbed a vase of lilies. She was going to pretty up that damn black-on-black office with some flowers. Ollie was on the phone and only raised an eyebrow at her.

She planted the vase on Jillian's desk and surveyed her improvements. The toys on the window ledges looked great too. At least she could be slightly useful. She made herself a pot of tea in the clever machine, choosing Constant Comment to steep in the white ceramic pot. Ollie had also left four very pretty flowered cups for her. Boy, he was good at what he did. The wonderful aroma of the tea filled her senses with calmness.

Her calmness didn't last long. As soon as she'd planted herself in the office chair and unwound Jillian's black pashmina shawl from her shoulders, Ollie knocked, walked in, and set an army green file folder down on her desk. It made her stomach jump.

"Change of plans. You'll have to Jillian up and be at a nine-forty-five meeting. It seems the numbers on the Byker Chikz product line have been less than rewarding, and they are looking at replacing it. We've got a trade show in six weeks, so we'll have to have preliminary specs and models at the very least. Pitman has to go into high gear. I'll sit beside you and take notes as usual. I've been watching the dailies—those are sales figures from

across the country—so I've got a good grasp of the situation. Normally your sister would have a whole lot to say at these meetings. I'm thinking we'll plead that you've lost your voice."

Jana Lee choked on her sip of tea. More like she'd lost her
mind.
"Works for me."

"That smells delicious. Mind if I have a cup?" Oliver walked over and got himself a cup of tea.

"Not at all. Thank you for the lovely china."

"It seemed to suit you." He returned to stand by her desk. "Don't get nervous. These people spend so much time backstabbing each other between departments they will hardly notice you. Besides, they'll be relieved you have nothing to say. Jillian usually pokes holes in all their pretty balloons with boring facts like unit cost of four-inch plastic doll heads and things like that."

"So I have a half hour?"

"Twenty-seven minutes, to be exact. I'd suggest a red lipstick. Here are some lemon drops to make you look authentic. I keep a bag in my desk drawer for just such times." Oliver reached in his pocket and scattered a half-dozen cellophane-wrapped yellow candies over the desk.

"Ollie, you're an amazing man."

"I know. Now drink your tea, and I believe you'll find a tube of Bobbi Brown Riot Red in the center drawer. I'll give you a warning in fifteen minutes." Oliver took his tea with him back to his protective front desk, which guarded her from

harm. She was extremely glad she had him to trust with this whole thing.

Speaking of trust, she needed to call her sister right this minute. This qualified as an emergency. She picked up the phone, punched buttons till she got a dial tone, then dialed her own number. It might be long-distance, but she wasn't going another day without speaking to her daughter, bet be damned.

"Jillian, is that you? What is that racket?" Jana Lee heard what sounded like an earthquake in the background.

"Oh hey, we're just moving furniture. That's the sofa. The dog won't get off of it, so he's being moved too."

"Who is 'we'? Carly's in school, isn't she? You didn't give her some kind of early summer vacation thing, did you?"

"Oh no, she's in school. I met this nice repair guy person and he's helping me."

"And why are we moving my furniture?" Jana Lee drummed her fingers on the desk nervously.

"Jeez, Jana, the place needed a little pick-me-up. Don't worry, you'll love it."

"And why did we need a repair guy?"

"Oh, I had a little trouble with the washing machine. No big deal."

"For that you'd call an appliance repair person. There is a list of all of my local repair people in the back of the green phone book."

"I'll remember that. How are things at the office?" Jillian's voice got a little muffled. She must not want the repair guy to hear her.

"Oliver has me on house arrest."

"Oh, he figured you out, did he?"

"In like thirty seconds. You should give him a raise when you get back."

"Don't tell him that."

"And my daughter?"

"Second day, and that's only because your after-school gang had me cornered."

"Tell her I'll call this afternoon."

"Will do. She's really fine. We're having fun. We make a great team."

Jana Lee felt a twinge of jealousy. She and Carly hadn't been a good team for quite a while, which was very sad. "That's nice," she said. "By the way, I have to go to some meeting this morning, but Oliver says I've lost my voice, so I'll just sit and take notes for you."

"Meeting?"

"Something about those Byker Chikz dolls not doing well in tests and replacing them with another item. You'll have to talk to Ollie about it."

"Oh God, they're monkeying with the holiday line? I should be there. He lets you call him Ollie?" Jillian sounded stressed.

"Yup." Jana Lee knew right away she should change the subject from work problems. "And excuse me; was there something you forgot to tell

me about Jackson Hawks? My first day here he plants a big wet juicy one on me. Have you two reconnected since the mistletoe incident?"

"Not even close. He must have changed his mind!" Jillian sounded excited.

Jana Lee decided to toss her sister some warm-fuzzies. "He didn't have a clue I wasn't you. Even during dinner."

"You went out to dinner? On a Monday? You went out on a date with
Jackson? How the hell did that happen?" Jillian asked.

"It was more of a business thing/' Jana Lee lied. "We talked about work and . . . stuff."

"You went out with
Jackson?" Jillian repeated.

"Don't worry Ollie is keeping him far away from me—you—whatever. He's kind of arrogant, you know?"

"A little. He's a good-looking, extremely well-off guy with a great job. I suppose he has a whole lot to be arrogant about."

"Well, I can see the attraction, but we didn't exactly click." Jana Lee stared at the vase full of beautiful lilies on Jillian's desk. She felt herself blush and pulled at her long white silk scarf uncomfortably. "I think he's much more your type."