The Forbidden Twin(3)

Except that it hadn't felt wrong-not when she was in John's arms. It had  felt so … right. He wasn't her sister's fiancé anymore. She hadn't  violated any codes of ethics, sibling or otherwise. She and Summer had  made a pact when they were eight years old that they would never pretend  to be the other, and while she'd gone to John's apartment as herself,  she knew fairly soon that he'd thought she was her sister and she hadn't  corrected his mistake until it was almost past the point of no return.  If he hadn't realized it on his own, she would've told him,  though-wouldn't she?

Yes, of course. Probably.

So … a bath, some wine and some reflection. She would put John Harlan out of her mind once and for all.

And by morning she would be fine.

Just fine.





Two


Early April

S carlet glared at her watch. A quarter past noon. She checked her cell  phone, making sure it was turned on. It was. No missed calls. No  voice-mail messages. Irritation whipped through her. It was unlike  Summer to keep her waiting, especially for fifteen minutes. But then,  Summer had lost her predictability. She'd even gotten herself engaged to  Zeke Woodlow less than a month after ending her engagement to-                       
       
           



       

Scarlet went no further with the thought. At least there was a sparkle  in Summer's eyes and a lightness in her step that hadn't been there  before. A totally different kind of aura surrounded her, and for that  Scarlet thanked Zeke.

He'd just better not ever hurt her … .

Pasting on a smile, Scarlet returned a wave to a fellow employee then  stabbed a piece of avocado in her Cobb salad. Seated in the company  cafeteria, she was grateful she'd been able to grab a booth. She hated  eating alone in public-Summer knew that. And it was especially bad here  where noise bounced off the walls and the steel tabletops, the modern  decor not helping to absorb sound, not letting a person think clearly.  Plus, the entire twenty-five-story Park Avenue building was owned by  EPH-Elliott Publication Holdings, her family's business. Or rather,  businesses, their many magazines, so that a lot of people could pick her  out of a crowd. Plus she was an Elliott, one who'd already caused  enough talk.

She should've told Summer to meet her at the deli down the block.

"Who are you waiting for?"

Scarlet looked up to find Finola Elliott, editor in chief of Charisma  magazine and Scarlet's boss for the past two years-and for twenty-five  years, her aunt Finny.

"Summer. She's late."

"That's unlike her."

"I know."

Fin lowered her voice. "Are you okay?"

Surprised, Scarlet focused on her aunt instead of the cafeteria entrance. "Sure. Why?"

"You've seemed tense lately."

"I'm fine," she said, resisting the temptation to make a similar comment  to Fin, who was under a great deal of stress since her father,  Scarlet's grandfather, had issued a challenge regarding who was to fill  his shoes when he retired at the end of the year-a challenge which had  only added to the long-standing tension existing between Fin and her  parents. The fact that Fin was eating in the company cafeteria instead  of the executive dining room indicated her discomfort, as well.

"I'd ask you to join us, Fin, but Summer called this meeting. Here she is now."

"No problem," Fin said as Summer hugged her then slipped into the booth. "I'm meeting Bridget. See you later."

"Sorry I'm late," Summer said, her eyes shimmering. "Cute outfit. Can I borrow it?"

Scarlet smiled. Even though Summer had made sweeping changes recently,  her wardrobe still wouldn't include anything like the purple-and-red  minidress that Scarlet had designed and made this past week. "My closet  is your closet," Scarlet said.

Summer laughed.

Scarlet could usually anticipate what her sister would say, but not this  time. Not for the past few weeks, actually. She only knew that Summer  was revved about something. "What's up?"

She linked her fingers together and set her hands on the table. "I'm taking a leave of absence from The Buzz."

Shock heated Scarlet from the inside out. "Why?"

"I want to go with Zeke on his international tour."

"For how long?"

"A month."

Scarlet could barely find words. "We've never been apart for more than a week."

"Life is changing, Scar. We're changing."

"Separating." I used to be able to read your mind. We used to finish each other's sentences.

"It was bound to happen someday." Understanding and determination rang in Summer's voice.

"I can't believe you're giving up your dream job, and an imminent promotion, for a … man."

"Not just any man, but Zeke. The man I love." Her calm voice was offset  by a stubborn glint in her eye. "The man I'm going to marry."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"So soon?" Scarlet felt more vulnerable than ever. Her link to life as  she knew it was breaking. It had been hard enough this past month not to  confide in Summer about her night with John Harlan, especially when  Summer had asked her where she'd been all night.

"Don't be jealous," Summer said, laying her hand on Scarlet's.

"Jealous? I-" She stopped. Maybe she was, a little. She'd been wanting  to try her hand at fashion design but hadn't had the nerve to quit her  job as assistant fashion editor for Charisma. "Granddad will accuse you  of being ungrateful," she said to her sister instead, reminding herself  of that fact, as well-the main reason why she hadn't quit her job  herself.

"That's what I'm afraid of. But Zeke has tried to convince me otherwise.  Loyalty matters more than anything to Granddad, but I need to do this. I  want to do this. I'm going to do this."                       
       
           



       

And everyone thought Summer was the meek twin. "Have you told him?"

"I'm telling you first. I'll tell Shane after lunch. Then Gram and Granddad."

Shane-Uncle Shane-was Fin's twin and the editor in chief of The Buzz,  EPH's showbiz magazine, where Summer worked as a copy editor, and was  about to be promoted to reporter. Scarlet didn't envy Summer telling  Shane or, worse, Granddad.

"I'm going to miss you like crazy," Scarlet said, nearly crushing Summer's hand.

"Me, too," she whispered, her eyes instantly bright. "I'll call lots. I  promise. Maybe you could meet us somewhere on the tour for a weekend."

"Three's a crowd." Scarlet made an effort to keep things as normal as possible. She dug into her salad again. "Want some?"

"Butterflies," Summer said, patting her stomach.

Scarlet nodded. "What I said about my closet being your closet is true,  you know. If you'd like to take some of my stuff on the tour, you can."

"Zeke likes me as I am."

So had John, Scarlet thought. Summer was so much easier to be with-not  anywhere near as demanding of equality or independence as Scarlet. At  least, not openly.

"There you go again," Summer said, tapping the table next to Scarlet's salad bowl.

"What?"

"You've been zoning out for, I don't know, about a month now."

"Have I?"

"Yes. Right after you spent the night away from home and wouldn't tell  me where you'd been. Seems to me you've been keeping a secret, and  that's a first for us, too."

Scarlet wanted so much to talk to Summer about John, about that night,  but that was impossible. There was no one she could talk to, except the  man himself, maybe, but he hadn't contacted her at all, and she both  resented and appreciated his self-control. Except for having her coat  delivered to her office the next day, without a note, they hadn't  existed for each other.

Except that her body hungered in a way it never had.

"Can we spend the evening together?" Scarlet asked, changing the subject  altogether, then noting the hurt in her sister's eyes. But Scarlet  couldn't confide. Nothing would ever change that. Some secrets would be  taken to the grave.

"You'll help me pack?"

"Sure."

"I don't know what time I'll be home. I'm taking the helicopter to The Tides to tell the Grands."

"I'll wait up. We'll have margaritas. You'll need one." Scarlet added teasingly, "Better you than me this time."

Summer grinned. "I know. The shoe's finally on the other foot. For years  you've made it your goal to irritate Granddad with your men of choice,  and I've always tried to get you to stop doing that. The Grands have  taken their role as guardians seriously since Mom and Dad died. I guess  after fifteen years in that role it's hard to change. And of course,  Granddad still cares about image."