Chapter Three

Holly glared at the paper littering every inch of her queen bed. Her father had oh so helpfully provided her with the same mountain of information on Julian he’d give Lillian. Her sister had taken the files and tossed them out the window.

Holly, on the other hand, had dutifully read every line.

And every page she’d gone through had ratcheted her anxiety up another notch.

When she’d come home from brunch, she’d expected her father to be waiting with news that he’d tracked down Lillian, but now it looked like her sister had fallen off the map. No communication with anyone. No charges on any of her cards. She’d ceased to exist, no matter how hard her father’s PI worked to bring her back. But to John, there was an easy solution. Keep Holly in her role until Lillian was found, and then the twins could swap places with no one the wiser.

Holly, on the other hand, had been horrified. She couldn’t keep pretending. One brunch wasn’t too bad, but weeks of dating? There’s no way she’d be able to pull off such an elaborate charade.

But her protests had only made her father smile in a way that turned her stomach.

What about the employees? he’d asked.

Her protest had died on her tongue. Was saving herself some discomfort really worth the layoffs they’d have to do if Julian backed out of this deal? Her father had found the perfect carrot to keep her moving. If she smiled and played her part, her employees were safe for a little while longer.

At the end of the day, does anything else matter?

The manipulations of an egotistical man, the insatiability of a self-made billionaire; she was nothing more than a pawn caught between two competing forces with no way out. Weren’t a few lies to a stranger worth the jobs she was trying to save? Weren’t people’s retirements worth her conscience?

I can do this. For them, I can make this work.

What other choice did she have?

But staring down at all the information her father had collected on his desired son-in-law was driving up her blood pressure. These files painted the portrait of a man on a mission, buying and selling businesses with deliberate calculation and cold precision.

Reaching out, she grabbed one particular file that had puzzled her. The business tycoon had bought a small B&B in upstate New York for no discernible reason. Her heart went out to the two aging owners mentioned in the story. No doubt they had lost their livelihood because a city boy had bought a hotel on a whim.

Why did he do it?

His intense gaze flashed through her memory. There’d been a moment at brunch when she’d found herself hoping he wasn’t a carbon copy of her father. Not that she should care. Lillian had made it clear this marriage wasn’t happening. This man would be out of their lives soon enough once she came back with another way to save the company.

But until then, she had to spend time with him. A lot of time, by the sound of it.

Her father had been thrilled by the progress, as he’d called it, when she’d informed him of Julian’s offer to date. Then he’d handed her a credit card and told her to go make herself more presentable.

Now here she sat, her hair curled exactly as Lillian’s was, her makeup as perfect as her twin. Soon she’d have to pretend once more and meet Julian for their date.

Such a trial to spend an evening with a beautiful man.

She sighed. If it wasn’t for the charade, she might almost be excited to see him again. It wasn’t like she normally got the chance to date people like him. Usually she preferred men more similar to herself. Quiet, reserved, intelligent guys who could carry a conversation but wouldn’t turn any heads. Those men didn’t intimidate her or make her trip over her own words.

And they never made butterflies erupt in her stomach the way Julian had when he’d pinned all that dark intensity squarely on her.

A knock sounded at her door.

“Come in,” she called.

A small woman bustled into the room. “Figured you might need some moral support,” Sylvie said.

She smiled gratefully. “Totally do.”

The maid walked to the side of the bed. “This looks fun,” she said as she surveyed the files.

“Everything you ever wanted to know about Julian Worth,” she said, sweeping out her arms. “Voilà.”

“Anything interesting?” Sylvie asked.

She sighed. “Interesting? Yes. Useful?” She sighed. “I’m so out of my league here.”

Sylvie perched on the corner of the bed. “I wish I could help.”

Me too.

She smiled at her. Sylvie had been with the family for years and had proven to be a trustworthy addition to the household, something that was rare in this place. While Holly was polite to everyone, most of the staff knew where their bread was buttered. They had no problem reporting on her activities to her father whenever he wanted to keep tabs on her. Sylvie, on the other hand, kept to herself. A feeling Holly could relate to.

“Help me pick something Lillian would wear,” she said. “Julian will be here soon.”

Sylvie dutifully went to her closet which was now stocked with all Lillian’s clothes. “Are you trying for sexy or aloof?”

“How about awkward and uncertain?”

“I’m not sure there’s a dress for that.”

“Really? Because all my clothes say it.”

Sylvie shook her head and pulled out a pretty lavender dress. “How about this one?”

Holly had to admit the color would work well on her, though she eyed the plunging neckline.

Talk about being kicked into the deep end.

“Lillian only wore it twice,” Sylvie said. “I think it was a little demure for her.”

“God help me with the rest of her wardrobe, then.” With a sigh, she accepted the dress and headed into the bathroom to change.

“Tell me about your CEO,” Sylvie called through the door.

“He hates tomatoes,” she said as she shimmied into the dress.

“With intel like that, he doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

She twisted to reach the zipper, thinking about the dossier. “Looks like he put himself through school. There’s not much about his life before he got his undergrad. Sounds like he came out of nowhere,” she said as she spun in front of the bathroom mirror.

The dress fell to her knees in a way that was both stylish and modest. Her eyes zeroed in on her chest. While everything was covered, the cut left little to the imagination. Given how she and her sister were more on the curvy side, the dress made her breasts look spectacular. No doubt that was why it was in Lillian’s closet in the first place.

She wouldn’t think twice about this outfit.

Which meant Holly couldn’t afford to, either.

Rolling her shoulders back, she opened the bathroom door.

Sylvie was tidying up the files when she turned to see Holly’s entrance.

“Check you out,” the maid said. “You clean up well.”

“Do I look like Lillian?”

Sylvie looked her over with a critical eye. “Shoulders back,” she instructed. “Stand straighter.”

Holly hurried to comply.

“Something’s missing.”

“My sister?” she asked drily.

Sylvie ran back to the closet and pulled out a pair of sky-high stilettos.

“Come on. I’m going to break an ankle.”

“WWLD, my friend.”

“What would Lillian do?” she guessed.

“Bingo.”

With a sigh, she took the deadly shoes. “With my luck, I’ll fall at his feet in these.”

“Maybe he’ll catch you.”

And maybe hell will freeze.

She rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t seem much like the knight-in-shining-armor type.”

“Who knows? He might surprise you.”

Taking the ridiculous shoes, she sat on the bed and strapped the deathtraps to her feet.

“Rumor has it,” Sylvie said, “that Lillian’s left the city entirely. Some think the country. Are you sure she’s coming back?”

“Positive,” she said. “She’d never leave me.”

All they had was each other. She’d believe Armageddon was coming tomorrow before she’d believe Lillian had thrown her to the wolves without an escape route planned.

I just need to buy time. Everything will work out.

Somehow.

“As long as Julian never realizes we switched places, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“At least he’s never met her. That’s a win, at least.”

True enough. He wouldn’t realize her mistakes the way someone who knew her sister well would have.

“I just want to make it through this evening without any major slips.”

“Where are you going on your date?”

“No idea,” she replied. “He’s not exactly the chatty type.”

In fact, the only communication she’d had with Julian was a single text telling her what time to expect him.

“Arrogant,” Sylvie said.

“Agreed.” She’d glared at the text when it’d come in.

If only I could cancel.

She’d bet women didn’t do that to him. Ever.

But the retribution her father would have heaped on her head was not worth the small victory.

Bide your time. Keep Julian entertained.

She needed to be charming but forgettable. The last thing she wanted was to catch his attention. She’d learned the best way to live with her father was to hide in plain sight. No doubt the same rules would hold true for Julian.

Another knock sounded on her door. Sylvie answered as Holly slipped her cell into a clutch that matched her outfit.

“Mr. Worth is here for you, miss,” the butler said from the doorway.

“I’ll be right down, Mathers.”

Sylvie closed the door behind the butler as Holly hesitated for a second before taking a seat on the bed. The maid arched a brow.

“I might not have a choice about much in this mess, but I don’t have to jump at Julian’s command when he snaps his fingers. Let him cool his heels for a bit.”

Sylvie’s grinned. “Your father won’t like it.”

“Think he’ll come get me?”

“And lose face in front of a guest?”

She grinned. “Exactly.”

Crossing her arms, she checked at the clock and settled in to wait.

…

Julian glanced at his watch and fought back a sigh of annoyance.

You know socialites. The world revolves around them.

He’d hoped his new wife might be different, but no doubt she hadn’t thought twice about his presence in her home. Life was all about the perfect hair or the right shoes.

His lip curled.

“I’m sure Lillian will be right down,” John said, holding out a whiskey to him.

“Thank you,” he said as he sat on the couch.

“You know how women are,” John said as he took the chair opposite to him. “Lillian won’t be rushed.”

“Must be nice to live on a schedule like that.”

“Not quite like our days, eh?” John smiled as he saluted him.

Julian took a sip of his whiskey in place of a reply. The due diligence he’d been conducting on the Abbotts didn’t paint John as a very hands-on CEO.

Julian’s world, however, ran with pinpoint precision. He woke at the same time every morning. Spent an hour at the gym before his breakfast, which usually consisted of many cups of coffee. He was in the office every day before nine and usually didn’t leave till long after the sun had set.

Time was precious. It was the one thing he couldn’t buy more of.

Everything else has a price tag.

He’d learned that young. Once you had some money in your bank account, all things became possible.

Like a former guttersnipe marrying an upper Eastside princess.

“How goes business, my boy?”

His eyes narrowed. Since the engagement, John had become far more familiar than he preferred.

He’s your future father-in-law. Suck it up.

“Good. I think it will be a strong quarter. I’ve been preparing for the merger, of course. There are a number of matters we need to go over. I have some questions about the missing financial records we’re going to need.”

“My accounting team is looking for them,” John said, unconcerned. “I’ll set up an appointment for the rest of it, though. Let’s do lunch next week.”

He’d already tried that. John’s idea of a business lunch was ten minutes of shop talk and a very expensive meal on Julian’s dime.

“I’ll come to the office,” he replied.

John hesitated, his drink halfway to this mouth. “Of course. I’ll check my schedule for an opening.”

He sipped his drink, keeping his face clear of any expression that would give his thoughts away. This wasn’t the first time John had been cagey around revealing his finances.

What game is he playing?

They were going to be family. More importantly, they were going to be business allies. He needed those documents.

“What did you think of Lillian?” John asked in a clear bid to change the subject.

As if I’ll forget my questions.

But there was a time and place for everything.

“She’s lovely,” he replied, allowing the talk of finances to drop.

“She’ll make a good wife. The girl knows her duty.”

Because that’s all this is to her?

His barely stopped himself from frowning. He may have been the one to pursue this match, but he knew exactly what he was giving up by entering such a cold arrangement. What was Lillian’s excuse? Did she simply do whatever her father told her to?

What made her agree to marry me?

Yet another puzzle to be solved.

“I thought you’d told me she didn’t have much to do with the company. Sounds like she works in your communications department.”

John blinked. “I must have been unclear,” he said. “She works in a…hybrid role. Communications and sales.”

He arched a brow. Those weren’t positions that usually went together.

They probably send her out when they need a member of the family present and call it sales.

“I’m sure she’ll have no issue giving up her career when you marry.”

“Why would I want her to?”

John’s face was a picture of surprise. “That is your decision,” he said when he recovered.

Julian frowned. “Isn’t it hers?”

Luckily, John was saved from having to backpedal as heels clicked loudly on the staircase.

“Excuse me,” he said, setting his drink on the coffee table and straightening.

Julian left the living room and strode into the entrance way with the grand staircase as Lillian came down.

She paused halfway down the steps when she caught sight of him, a hint of uncertainty flying across her features. Glancing up at someone he couldn’t see, she rolled her shoulders back and continued down the stairs.

He moved forward, unable to stay away, as she stopped on the last step.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her gaze locking with his.

My words.

Some of the first he’d ever spoken to her.

And just like that, his annoyance at her primping disappeared. This hadn’t been a socialite losing track of time. This was his fiancée making a point.

“Busy day?” he said, trying to bite back his grin as he played his part.

“Something like that.”

He held out a hand to her. “Point taken.”

“Good,” she said, confirming his suspicions.

Her fingers slipped into his as she descended from the final step.

“We’ve been waiting,” John said from behind him.

Lillian’s gaze skittered away from his in an instant, her attention locked on her father.

“So sorry,” she said.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard such an insincere apology.

No love lost with these two.

Not that he blamed her.

“Let’s get going,” he suggested.

“Please,” she replied, her eyes still on John.

Putting a hand on her lower back, he guided her toward the door. But not before he noticed how she stiffened at the contact.

Did she want this arrangement or didn’t she? Maybe tonight he’d find out more about the riddles his future wife posed.