“Give me a break.”
“Kalissa?” Megan interrupted.
“No, seriously,” said Kalissa. She stripped the glove from her left hand and wiggled her fingers to show him.
“The diamond is probably in your safe.”
“Kalissa.”
“I don’t have a safe.”
Megan grasped her shoulder from behind, stepping closer. “Kalissa, he thinks you’re Darci.”
Kalissa twisted her neck to look at her friend. “What?”
“She is Darci,” said the man.
“Darci,” Megan repeated with a meaningful stare.
“Darci Colborn?” Kalissa asked, the lightbulb coming on inside her head.
“This is ridiculous,” said the man.
Kalissa turned back to him, realizing there was a simple explanation. “I get it. I’m not Darci Colborn. I look a little bit like her.”
“A little bit?” asked Megan.
“The jig is up,” said the man.
“There is no jig, and it’s not up. I’m Kalissa Smith. I can prove it. I have identification.”
He peered at her, and the minutes stretched by. It was obvious his brain was piecing through the situation.
“What have you got against Darci Colborn?” she asked him.
“I’ve never even met her.”
“Then, that’s why you’re confused. She’s quite different than me in person.”
“You know her?” he asked.
“I’ve seen videos.”
“They’re twins,” said Megan.
“We don’t know that,” Kalissa said to Megan.
“You should contact her,” said Megan.
“Shut up,” said Kalissa, having no intention of getting into that debate again, now or in the future.
“This is going to keep happening,” said Megan.
“It’s a fluke.”
“You’re a landscape designer?” asked the man.
“Yes.”
“Your name is Kalissa Smith.”
“Says it right there on the card.”
“And you don’t know Darci Colborn?”
“Didn’t even know she existed until last week. It’s weird, but it’s no big deal.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking like he probably was, even though he was still watching her intently.
“No problem.”
The strength of his gaze sent a shimmer through her chest. He really was an incredibly good looking man. He was tall, fit, and somewhere around thirty. Too bad she was such a mess. And too bad his interest had nothing to do with her personally.
“Can I keep the card?” he asked.
“Do you own a house?” asked Megan, stepping up beside Darci. “Do you have a yard?”
He pocketed the card. “I do. Goodnight, ladies.”
“Goodnight,” Kalissa automatically echoed.
With a nod, he turned to walk back to the restaurant.
“He was hot,” said Megan.
“He was strange,” said Kalissa, watching his broad shoulders as the glass door opened and then swung closed behind him.
But she had to admit, he was also hot. There was something extraordinarily sexy in his deep voice. Part of her hoped he might actually call. Against all logic, that same part couldn’t help but hope it would be about more than just landscaping.
Two
The next evening, sitting on his deck with Ashton, Riley was still trying to figure out Kalissa Smith.
His brother’s wife had a sister. She had a sexy, feisty, secret twin sister. And nobody seemed to know she existed.
“Setting aside the ‘how on earth’ questions,” said Ashton, helping himself to a slice of pizza from the carton on the wood slat table between them.
The sun was setting beyond the park, over the vast stretch of orderly rows of houses north west of Chicago. The lengthening shadows showed Riley’s yard as plain and stark.
“Setting that aside,” he said, though he’d pondered the very question in bed last night, then again at work today.
He’d also pondered Kalissa, her crystal green eyes, those deep red lips, and what looked like a perfect body, nearly but not quite camouflaged by her work clothes. He’d checked social media sites today, but there were no tagged photos of Kalissa Smith. Her name was on the Mosaic Landscaping site, but it didn’t have her picture.
“Could she have been spying for her sister?” Ashton asked.
Riley had considered and discarded that theory. “If she was, she deserves an acting award.”
“And it seems pretty elaborate,” said Ashton, propping his feet up on one of the wooden stools.
Riley had to agree. “There’s no way she overheard our conversation from out on the patio. All she could report was that I met with Pierre Charron, and maybe for how long. And why would you use a Darci clone to do that? There are far easier ways. Bribe a waiter, for example.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
Riley reached for his cell phone. “I’m thinking about doing some landscaping.”
Ashton smiled. “Keep your enemies close?”
Riley fished into his shirt pocket for the Mosaic Landscaping business card. “I don’t think she’s the enemy. I don’t know what the heck this is all about.”
“You think they’re really twins?”
“They’re absolutely identical.”
“You sure it wasn’t Darci?”
“I’m positive. I checked. Shane and Darci were at an art gallery last night, a charity event on the other side of town.”
Ashton was silent for a few minutes. “Then why pursue it? What’s in it for you?”
Riley dialed with his thumb. “I don’t know yet.”
Ashton shifted in his chair, turning sideways to face Riley. “You’re attracted to her.”
“She’s attractive,” Riley admitted.
“This isn’t about wanting what Shane’s already got.”
Riley frowned. “I’ve been over that for a very long time.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Mosaic Landscaping,” came Kalissa’s breathy voice.
“Is this Kalissa?” He already knew the answer.
“Yes, it is.” She sounded like she was slightly out of breath.
“This is Riley,” he hesitated over his last name. “Have I called at a bad time?”
“Not at all. How can I help you?”
He pictured her pushing a wheelbarrow, flushed cheeks, a bead of sweat at her temple. “I was hoping to make an appointment with you.”
“Okay. Are you looking for a site visit? Or do you want to come into the office?”
“The office. Is today a possibility?”
“Um.” She blew out a breath. “We’ll be back there in about an hour. Is that too late?”
“An hour is fine.” He glanced at his watch and realized it was coming up on seven. “Long work day?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“About normal,” she said. “Riley...?”
“We met last night.”
There was silence on the other end.
“You asked me if I had a yard.”
“Megan asked you if you had a yard.”
“Well, I do. Have a yard.” He gazed out over it, knowing the front yard was just as neglected. “I’ve been thinking about it, and it could use some landscaping.”
“Is this a joke?”
“No joke. I need some landscaping.”
Ashton rolled his eyes and lifted his beer to take a swallow.
There was another pause before she continued. “What’s the lot size?”
“Seventy by one-hundred and thirty. I have an oak tree.”
“Bully for you.”
“I mean that’s all I have. It’s a patchy lawn with a single oak tree. It’s pathetic, really. I don’t know how you’ll save it.”
“Maybe we should come out and take a look,” she suggested.
“I’d rather talk first. You know, toss around some general ideas.”
“Whatever you prefer. Seven forty-five? Mr...”
“Seven forty-five sounds good. I’ll be there.” He disconnected.
“Smooth,” said Ashton.
Riley reached for his own beer. “I don’t want to tell her my last name.”
He didn’t want her to know he was Shane’s competitor. She might not know the Colborns yet, but Riley was willing to bet she’d meet them soon.
“Make one up,” said Ashton.
“I don’t want to lie to her either.”
“Ha, there’s a challenge. She’s coming to your house, and you’ll have to write her a check.”
Riley had already thought of that. “The house is registered to Ellis Aviation’s numbered holding company, and I can pay the bill in cash.”
“Oh, that will allay her suspicions. She’ll think you’re a criminal.”
“Or a conspiracy theorist.” Riley took a thoughtful drink. “You know, that could work. I accused her of being a spy last night. If I behave like I’m generally paranoid, she’ll think it’s just my personality.”
Ashton chuckled. “Can I come along? This sounds entertaining.”
* * *
Kalissa couldn’t decide if Riley was paranoid, a covert operative or maybe even in the witness protection program. He claimed to be a conspiracy theorist, but she wasn’t buying it. Never mind that few conspiracy theorists would describe themselves that way, over the past week she’d found his most dominant characteristics to be intelligence and hard work.
He was far more normal and much more agreeable than he’d seemed at first, and she hated to think that somebody that great looking and sexy would be unbalanced. It wouldn’t be fair to the women of Chicago.
After thinking it through, she was going with the witness protection program theory.
He’d offered to pay a premium, so they’d bumped him to the top of their list. After some initial work, mostly to level the ground and rip out the sickly lawn, the delivery service had dropped off a load of milled, Colorado flagstone. The installers were due on Thursday to lay the rock for the patio.
She was excited about the patio, and in particular that Riley had agreed to a spa and barbecue area. It was exactly how she’d do the yard if she was the owner. She knew the final photos were going to look great on their web site.
The sun was setting now as she made her way around to the back of his house.
“Thirsty?” Riley surprised her by calling down from the sundeck above her.
She looked toward the sound of his voice.
“Looks good.” He nodded to the flat stones piled on wood pallets. Their tones were rich and varied in rust, browns and chalk. “Come on up.”
“Sure.” She crossed the raw dirt to the outdoor staircase and made her way up to join him.
“Iced tea?” he asked as she made it to the top. He gestured to a pitcher on a round wooden table that was bracketed by two wooden deck chairs.
“Love some.”
She lowered herself into one of the chairs, taking the weight off her tired legs.
It had been a hot day, and her powder blue cotton shirt was clinging damply to her body. Her jeans were dusty, and her hair was sticky with sweat and garden dirt.
She pulled out her ponytail and ran a hand through it, discovering a twig and a couple of leaves. She couldn’t help but sigh as she discarded them. It seemed Riley was never going to see her at her best.
He’d arrived home from work about an hour ago, just missing Megan who’d left for another jobsite. He was dressed in his suit pants and dress shirt, his tie loosened around his neck. His hair was neat, his face clean shaven, and his fingernails were spotless.
She glanced down at her own fingers and curled them into her palms. She’d worn gloves all day and kept them relatively clean, but she was in desperate need of a manicure. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn nail polish or had her hair trimmed. She’d pretty much kill for a spa day.
He poured the iced tea. “Looks like you’ve made good progress.”
“Your lawn is gone,” she acknowledged.
“Wasn’t much of a lawn to start with.”
She didn’t disagree. “There must have been a lot of annual ryegrass in the mix. Did you aerate, fertilize, re-seed?”
There was humor in his eyes. “Your lips are moving, and sounds are coming out, but...”
She found herself grinning in return. “Never mind. We’ll take care of it.”
“Where’s Megan?”
“We’re starting another job over in Oak Park.”
“You seem busy.”
She accepted a glass filled with sweet tea and plenty of ice-cubes. “We’re getting there, slowly. We keep adding casual workers to our roster. But it’s hard to be competitive and still make a profit.”
“I hear you.” He gave a sage nod as he sat down.
“You said you own your own business?” She’d come to understand that he was a private person, but she hoped he’d share a few more details.
“We manufacture parts, mostly for the transportation sector. Margins are tough in any business.”
“How long have you been in business?”
“Ten years all told. I started small. You?”
“Just under a year. We’ve been working hard, and our customer base is gradually growing.” She lifted her glass in a toast. “Thank you for adding to it.”
“I’ll tell my friends about you.”
She took a sip.
“Anything you need me to do tonight?” he asked.
Though he rarely got home before seven, Riley had jumped in on several occasions, getting work done after the crews left, both to save money and to make things smoother the next day.
“We’ve leveled the ground.” She rose to gaze over the rail. It was growing dark, but she could still make out the newly worked area in the yard. “Next step is for the installers to lay the stone.”
Riley rose and moved to stand beside her. “Next step requires professional expertise?”
“It does.”
“And I’m not an expert.”
“Not unless there’s something you’re not telling me.” She let the comment dangle, wondering if he’d decide to divulge something new.
A gust of a breeze came up, and she brushed her loose hair out of her face.
“There is something I’m not telling you,” he said in an oblique tone than triggered a shimmer of sexual awareness.
“What is it?” She found herself holding her breath.
The silence stretched, so she looked up. He was closer than she’d realized. His gaze was warm and intimate.
The awareness increased, warming the surface of her skin while paradoxically raising goose bumps.
Without a word, he brushed a stray lock of hair back from her temple.
His callused fingertips seemed to hum against her skin. His touch felt good. It felt sexy.
“You’re incredibly beautiful,” he whispered, easing slightly closer.
The statement took her by surprise. “I’m mostly dusty.”
He smiled. “I can’t see any dust. But I can see your gorgeous eyes, and I can see your beautiful lips.”
His smile disappeared, and he ran the pad of his thumb across her lower lip.
“Soft,” he whispered, leaning in.
She drew in a breath and held it.
His palm slipped up, cradling her cheek, his fingertips easing into her hair. He bent his head.
She stilled, waiting.
The kiss started soft, but soon heated between them. Her fingers curled into her palms, and she stretched up. Her lips parted, and he firmed his own, bracing his free hand across the small of her back.
She opened wider, and his tongue flicked in. She met him with her own, angling her head. She raised her palms to his chest, sweeping them upward, marveling at the definition of his pecs, then the breadth and strength of his shoulders. Her arms wound themselves around his neck.
He pressed their bodies together, her breasts against his chest, his thighs hard against hers. The kiss was sexy and deep, oddly familiar. She wanted more from him, even as she acknowledged this was happening at lightning speed.
He seemed to sense her hesitation.
He broke the kiss, drawing back.
“Wow,” she managed.
“Wow,” he echoed, gazing into her eyes.
The sun was completely gone now, and soft darkness surrounded them, a shaft of yellow light coming from a small window in his house.
He kept his arm around her, still holding her close. “You should come out with me.”
She hesitated, unsettled by the sudden shift between them. “I don’t usually...”
“Kiss like that?”
“Date customers.” Though she had to admit, she couldn’t remember a kiss like that.
“You’ve only been in business a year,” he said. “It can’t have come up that often.”
“I suppose,” she was forced to agree.
“Has it ever come up?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“So you don’t have a rule against it.”
“I don’t have a rule for it either.”
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
She cocked her head. “I haven’t said yes.”
“I figure I’ll increase my odds of a yes if you like where we’re going.”
The logic made her smile. “Take a stab.”
He smoothed her hair again. “No help from the lady?”
She struggled not to react to the intimate touch. “No help.”
“Navy Pier. Ferris wheel and a pretzel dog.”
She was surprised, but also intrigued. “You’re inviting me out for a pretzel dog?”
“I’ll throw in some ice cream.”
She put a note of astonishment in her voice. “You expect me to say yes to that?”
He didn’t look worried. “You don’t strike me as a symphony and Le Petit Soleil kind of girl.”
She wrinkled her nose and gave a little sniff. “That’s only because you’ve never seen me clean. It’s an unfair bias if you ask me, and not worthy of you, Riley.”
Uncertainty finally appeared in his eyes. “You’d prefer the symphony?”
She’d liked teasing him. “Your first instinct was right. Add the fireworks, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
He gave her a squeeze. “You’re messin’ with me.”
“I am.”
“I shouldn’t like it so much.”
“Probably not.”
“Can I kiss you again?”
The amusement went out of her, replaced instantly by desire.
“Just once.” It was a warning to herself more than to him.
“Just once,” he agreed.
“Because...”
He dipped his head toward her, voice dropping to a whisper. “Because this is too fast.”
“It’s too fast,” she whispered back.
“It’s too hot.”
“It’s too hot.”
His lips brushed hers. “It’s too everything.”
“Oh, yes.”
He kissed her long and deep.
* * *
“It’s not really a date,” Kalissa said to Megan as they moved through the racks at Annabelle’s Discount Boutique. They’d found a couple of hours to spare this morning, and it had been ages since Kalissa had bought any news clothes.
“Boy, girl, dinner, entertainment,” said Megan. “What part of that is not a date?”
“I mean it’s not a buy a new dress and get my hair and nails done kind of date.” Kalissa held up a pair of dark blue, skinny jeans. “What do you think?”
“Cute. What’s the price?”
“Thirty-nine ninety-nine, with fifty percent off.”
“You can add my thirty percent off coupon.”
“So, that’s about fifteen bucks. I can afford fifteen bucks.”
“They’ll go with this,” said Megan, holding up a white and silver tank top.
“I sure couldn’t show up at work in that,” said Kalissa.
A camera flash went off in her peripheral vision, and she turned to see two young women giggle as they looked at their phone screen then back at her.
“You like the top?” she asked them, holding it out. It was cute, but she’d give it up if they’d fallen in love with it.
They didn’t answer, just gave her a thumb’s up and backed away.
“What the heck?”
“It’s the Darci thing,” said Megan.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, those two think they just saw the wife of a billionaire shopping at a discount store.”
Kalissa glanced at the two retreating women. Suddenly self-conscious, she glanced around the store to see if anyone else was paying attention to her. They weren’t, thank goodness.
“I wonder how they’d react to me using a coupon,” she speculated.
“I think a lot of celebrities buy things on the cheap.”
“Darci’s not a celebrity.”
But Kalissa now felt ridiculously conspicuous, and she glanced around the store again. Who else was out there covertly watching her? Who else might mistake her for Darci and think Darci was doing something inappropriate.
“Oh, crap.” She tightened her grasp on the jeans.
“What?” Megan looked from side to side.
“Riley. The date. Me and him together at the Navy Pier.”
“Those jeans will look great,” said Megan. “And try on the top. I bet it works.”
“What if somebody sees us? What if they think I’m Darci? What if they think she’s cheating on Shane?” Kalissa had absolutely no desire to mess up anybody’s life.
“It could happen,” said Megan, looking thoughtful.
Kalissa put the jeans back. “Maybe I should cancel.”
“You can’t cancel. He seems like a great guy. And what are you going to do? Never go on a date again?”
“Maybe we could do something a little less public.”
“There’s always the symphony. It’s dark in there.”
“I have no interest in the symphony.”
“Yeah.” Megan nodded. “Besides, at a snooty event like that, everyone really would think you were Darci.”
“This is a problem.”
Megan lifted the jeans and handed them, along with the top to Kalissa. “It’s not your problem.”
“It’s Darci’s problem.” Kalissa tried to work her way through the ethics of the situation. “I at least owe her something for being my sister. Don’t I?”
“So, tell her.”
“That I’m going on a date?”
“That you exist. Give her a heads up. That’ll keep the reporters from blindsiding her with it.”
“I could call her,” said Kalissa. “Or drop her an e-mail.” An e-mail sounded a lot less intimidating.
“She’ll think you’re a wing-nut.”
“Maybe. Probably. I could send her a photo.”
“She’ll assume it’s her, or that it’s photoshopped like you did.”
Kalissa thought it through. “I could hold up today’s newspaper, so she’ll know that it’s current.”
“That would be a great way to meet her security team or maybe the Chicago Police.”
“I’ll phone her,” said Kalissa, deciding it was the best option. “Do you suppose our voices are alike? Would she recognize it?”
“Just stop by her office,” said Megan. “Colborn Aerospace has its own building down by the river. There’s a huge sign.”
“How do you know this?”
“I internet searched her, of course. Didn’t you?”
“No. Not really. Okay, maybe a little bit. I found out she has the same birthday as me.”
“Surprise, surprise.”
“Just drop by her office,” Kalissa pondered out loud. “Say, hi there. I’m your twin. If anyone asks you why you were on a date at the Navy Pier tomorrow, you can let them know it was me.”
Megan chuckled. “Try on the jeans first. But, yeah, that’s basically it.”
“I could be in and out in five minutes.”
“With the jeans?”
“With Darci.” Kalissa couldn’t quite shake the fear that any contact would be an intrusion on Darci’s life. “If she doesn’t want to talk. If she’s too busy. I’m in, I’m out, she’s warned, we’re done.”
“I’m guessing she might have a few questions for you.”
Kalissa decided it was the best course of action. What Darci did with the information was entirely up to her. But it was colossally unfair to risk the press running with the story before Darci, and especially Shane, knew the truth.
* * *
“Shane Colborn is on line three for you,” Emma Thatcher, the Ellis Aviation receptionist, announced through the inter-office phone line.
Riley moved the receiver from his ear and stared at it for a moment.
“Riley?” Emma’s voice came through the tiny speaker.
“Are you sure?” he asked her.
“He claims to be Shane Colborn.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“You want me to ask?”
“No. That’s fine. I’ll take it. Thanks, Emma.”
“No problem.”
Riley pulled his thoughts together, waiting a beat before pressing the blinking button. “Riley Ellis here.”
“This is Shane Colborn.”
“What can I do for you?” It was the first time Riley had spoken to his half-brother in more than a decade. They’d exchanged approximately three sentences their entire lives. And not one of them meaningful. Beyond that single moment when they were both teenagers, Shane ignored him. It was clear Shane preferred to live in denial.