Sandra Carey Cody

BLURB:

Maren has one big goal in life; she wants to keep her independence. Her life is full to the brim with her two roles - being a single Mom and the owner of the recently founded Start-Up-Company. Men, she figures, are too exhausting to add to the mix; after all, it took her long enough to recover from her divorce. However, one evening a business acquaintance plants his twin brother Tony in his place and Maren falls for him . . . until she sees through the masquerade. Brimming with wrath, she decides to take her revenge, but she hasn't counted on her daughter who has quite different plans . .

EXCERPT:

Maren glanced at Chris as she walked towards his car. A sudden gust of wind whipped the firs behind the building and filled the night with a fresh smell of pine, but she felt warm and light. A deep happiness hummed inside her. Her words to Annie just a few hours earlier made her chuckle . . . she had claimed to be impervious to his charm. Talk about famous last words. How could a few hours make such a difference? How come she had never noticed the smile in his eyes? How come she had never been able to talk to him like that before, easy, relaxed, just being herself? Next to the warm glow of happiness, she felt a tinge of fear. She had no time for romance. She was so glad she had finally settled in her single life, settled herself, Sherry, her job. She had no time for upheaval, no time for change. Most of all, she had no time to be hurt.

Maren shook her head and gave herself a little shake. Enjoy the evening, she told herself. And don't worry about tomorrow. Carpe diem. You know what that means, right?

In the car, she turned a little in her seat to watch his face. A street lamp threw its light on him, then darkness hid him again. The car smelled of leather and aftershave. A large advertising sign–was it Coca Cola?–filled the interior with garish red light.

In one blinding moment of truth, she knew she trusted him blindly. Amazing. When a few hours ago, she would not have trusted him to post a letter. She smiled to herself when it happened.

The car came to stop at a red light. A bright street light lit up the interior. She saw his profile cut out against the light, the way his hands touched the steering wheel, the angle he held his head. And all of a sudden, he did not look like Chris at all, but like a stranger she had never met before.

Maren caught her breath. She did not hear the sound of the motor anymore, nor smell the leather seat beneath her. The colors faded out of her world and left it black and white. She blinked and willed the picture to shift right back, pushed away the feeling of strangeness. But it did not change. He looked different. Not like Chris. . . no, not like Chris at all.

The street light changed to green, and he accelerated with confidence, but not in his usual style. On the way to the restaurant, Chris had raced his car as if chased, even if the next red light was only a few yards away. Now, he didn't. As if he was someone else.

She swallowed. Maybe I'm losing my mind. Maybe I won't recognize Sherry next. Or myself. Maybe I'm splitting apart. She stared at the back of her hand, the shape of her fingers. Everything looked familiar, like always. A wave of relief washed over her.

Maren twisted in her seat and stared at him. It was a trick of the light. It had to be.

But at the next stop, he turned and smiled at her, and no doubt remained. The man next to her wasn't Chris. Maren shrank back into the darkness of her corner.

She couldn't tell how she knew. She couldn't point a finger at it; it was just a sum of little things, each too small to list.

Suddenly, she remembered a voice she couldn't put a face to. Had it been Paula, the receptionist at his office? They had joked one day about Chris and good-looking men, and Paula had said: "And then to imagine they exist in doubles." Maren had laughed but had not been able to ask anything because Chris had arrived that instant.

So the man next to her was his twin. Tony. The brother who owned the restaurant . . . if she could believe the story he had told her tonight.

She went through every scene at the restaurant again. It was so obvious, once she knew. When had the change taken place? She recalled the evening step by step. Of course–it must have been right at the beginning, before they had even ordered. That's why he had been gone such a long time.

If she thought about the things she'd said to him . . .! Maren winced. How he must have laughed at her. And the look in his eyes, which seemed so intense, as if nobody else existed–it must have been because he checked if she would see through the masquerade. Her throat hurt. Tomorrow, he would tell Chris everything, and they would laugh at their clever game. She found she was shaking.

She threw another look at him. Everything had changed within the last thirty seconds, but he had no clue. She tried to take a deep breath but her chest was too tight. Maren curled up as much as she could. Her stomach felt cold and hard.

From far off, she heard Tony say, "Are you cold? I'll put on the heat."

She did not reply. How dare he? How dare they do this to her? Those good-looking, ever-winning twins. Fooling the world, so they got what they wanted. Always. And to imagine she had fallen like a ton of bricks for his brother, when Chris was no danger to her. It was so humiliating. And it hurt. Oh, but why? Why do it at all?

The radiator heated up the car. Maren still felt cold. Every muscle inside her bunched up, every bone ached. Fury rose within her. The twins were not going to get away with it.

"Maren?" His voice sounded dark and soft. "You're awfully quiet all of a sudden."

She cleared her throat. Now she knew how to take her revenge . . . she would make him sweat tonight.