A Novella MisTaken(2)

By the time Jaylene had made it up the rest of the stairs, Lacy had managed to get the door open, and both sisters were already inside the apartment.

“I’ll open a bottle,” Andy said, setting her basket of clothing down next to the couch. “What kind would you like?”

Though Andy was now pretending everything was copacetic between them, Jaylene recognized the offer as an attempt to escape her company. That was fine. It would only be momentary. Jay could wait to start her persecution.

“What do you have?” she asked in a pleasant tone. Two could play the nothing’s-up game.

“A reddish kind and a less reddish kind.”

With a sigh, Lacy interjected. “Andy’s basically clueless when it comes to wine. We have a Merlot or a Zin.”

“Definitely Merlot then.” The deep red would be a fitting color to accompany the bloody murder about to take place. Luckily there were freshly washed towels to mop up with.

“Got it,” Andy said, scurrying to the kitchen. “And good choice! It has a nice finish.” Clear bullshit. All wines had a nice finish, if you said so.

“Grab some chips or something, too,” Lacy called after her as she kicked off her flip-flops. She nodded to Jaylene and gestured toward the sofa. “Have a seat. I’m dying to hear what my sister possibly could have done to get you over to my apartment after nine P.M. on a school night.”

Jaylene’s early teaching schedule and even earlier training program put her in bed before ten on most evenings. Deciding she’d skip her morning run, she’d made an exception for tonight’s date. She would have been insane not to after she’d seen the picture of Blake Donovan. He was beyond attractive, and Andy’s description of the rich, self-made bachelor had him sounding like quite a catch.

Now that she’d met Blake in person, she remembered that things that seemed too good to be true usually were. Because even though the person she’d met was rich, savvy, and attractive, he was not a catch. He was a nightmare.

As Andy would well have known. “Just wait until you hear.” Jay leaned back into the mismatched throw pillows Lacy had stitched out of thrift-shop dresses. Despite her irritation, Jay quickly felt comfy in Lacy’s bohemian-styled apartment. She was perfectly happy with her own IKEA and fair-trade stuff, but it was fun to let her eyes roam over all the goofy little knickknacks and art pieces her neighbor matched together.

“You’ve got my attention,” Lacy said, matching a pair of fuzzy socks from her laundry basket then pinning her eyes on Jay. “Please, tell all.”

Andy reentered the living room then with a bottle, a few mason jars, and a box of crackers balanced in the crook of her arm. Jaylene had eaten a meal on that jerk’s dime, but she was going to polish off the box of crackers, too, just on principle. Wine poured, Andy took a tentative seat on an armchair across from the couch.

It would almost be worth it to let the woman suffer. But Jaylene couldn’t hold in her wrath any longer. She leveled her glare at Andy. “Blake. Donovan.” She let the two words settle, enjoying Andy’s squirm. The two didn’t know each other well. They’d only met because of a piece of mail delivered to the wrong address, but Jay figured that since she was Lacy’s sister, she had to be cool.

After her date with Blake Donovan, she wasn’t so sure.

“Well, that name says everything,” Lacy said, scowling at her sister. “What were you thinking, Andy?” Her sister’s eyes darted away.

Jay continued the interrogation. “Did you actually imagine we’d hit it off, or was this your idea of a sick joke? Have I inadvertently offended you in some way?”

At least Andy had the grace to look ashamed. “No, I thought maybe you two would have a nice time.”

Lacy chortled. “You obviously don’t know Jay very well.”

Andy sat straighter on her perch. “Admittedly, I don’t know much about Jaylene. But she passed the initial screening points. They’re both into exercise.” She turned to Jay. “You seem to be driven. So is he. You thought his picture was attractive.” Her eyes fell to her hands where she fiddled with the hem of her T-shirt. “He likes Asians.…”

The picture snapped into focus. “Are you suggesting that you set me up on a date with a guy who likes Asians simply because I’m the only Korean you know? That is so racist. And actually explains a lot.”

“I’m not racist!” Andy’s head snapped up. “I just thought this would be an easy match. He should have been quite taken with you. I don’t like this job, and the quicker I can leave with a bonus, the better.”