Let the games begin...

Allie Miller’s life is a little crazy at the moment. She just found out she has a twin sister, she’s been working day and night to get her PR business off the ground, and now her heart’s decided to fall for her biggest professional rival, Jack Fletcher.

But Allie is used to life’s challenges and intends to face this one—this very handsome, very charming one—head-on. However, when Jack suggests they be just friends, Allie is thrown for a loop. Lusting after the competition is one thing, but being his pal is nearly impossible...especially when she realizes she wants much more.

“I agreed to meet to tell you I can’t see you again.”

“Is it because we’re rivals?” Jack asked. “I thought we were getting along well.”

Allie wondered what his mouth would feel like, taste like... “It has nothing to do with you. I promised myself not to get involved with anyone right now.”

He pursed his lips, as if considering her explanation. “You and I hit it off at the wedding. That rarely happens to me.” His sexy smile was nearly her undoing. “I’d like us to be friends.”

“Just friends?”

“Just friends.” He paused. “What do you say, pal?” He held out a hand for her to shake.

Slowly Allie reached out and slid her hand into his larger, warmer one and said, “Deal.”

Was she disappointed that Jack hadn’t pushed to have a closer personal relationship? What a ridiculous idea. She was off men and that’s all there was to it...

Dear Reader,

Setting—it’s an unsung hero. Many times you don’t even think about it because it’s such an essential part of a story. Can you imagine Sex in the City taking place in a small Wyoming town? Or Downton Abbey in the Caribbean?

Catching Her Rival is set in Rhode Island and surrounding states. I lived near Newport, Rhode Island, for several years, and if you’re familiar with the area, you’ll notice some elements of my story are accurate and others aren’t. The wedding at the beginning takes place at a historic, entirely fictional Newport mansion. I took bits from several actual mansions and created Bellevue House. The street that Charlotte and Jack live on is based in reality. Thanks to Google Maps, I found a narrow street with houses in the Point neighborhood of Newport that fit what I pictured in my mind.

I hope you enjoy Allie and Jack’s story—not just the setting!

Please visit my website, lisadyson.com, or send me an email at lisa@lisadyson.com. I’d love to hear from you!

Happy reading,

Lisa Dyson

Catching Her Rival

Lisa

Dyson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LISA DYSON has been creating stories ever since getting an A on a fifth-grade writing assignment. She lives near Washington, DC, with her husband and their rescue dog with a blue tongue, aptly named Blue. She has three grown sons, a daughter-in-law and four adorable grandchildren. When not writing, reading or spending time with family, Lisa enjoys traveling, volunteering and rooting for her favorite sports teams.

For my sister, Jill.

For your love and support, and for all the times people have asked us if we’re twins.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

ALLIE MILLER’S MOTHER was of the mindset that lives were meant to be lived in pairs.

“What about that nice boy you’ve been seeing?” her mother whispered between bites of spinach salad. “I’m sure he’d love to be your date for your brother’s wedding.”

How had she ended up seated next to her mother at this ridiculous bridal luncheon for Allie’s soon-to-be sister-in-law? She answered through clenched teeth. “I told you, Mom, we broke up.”

“This is a special occasion.” Her mother brushed a crumb from the mint-green sleeve of her suit jacket. “Surely you can put your feelings aside and get along for one day?”

Tough to invite the guy to a wedding or anywhere else when he’s currently in federal prison.

Her mother didn’t need to know that, though. Moreover, she didn’t need to know that Allie had nearly ended up in an adjoining cell.

“I don’t need a date for Scott’s wedding.” She softened her tone. “I mean, if I don’t have to worry about entertaining a date, then I can be of more help behind the scenes, right?”

Her mother’s scowl was all the answer Allie needed. She turned to the sister of the bride sitting on her other side. “So what do you do?” She didn’t recall her name other than it was something like Hope or Charity or Faith.

The young woman, who looked to be close to Allie’s age of twenty-nine, said, “Well, I’m married to a wonderful man, and we have three little girls.” Her mouth twisted as if she had to pull the information from deep within her brain. “I’m the room mother for my kindergartener, I teach an adult Sunday school class and I’m learning to coupon.”

“Coupon?” Isn’t that the discount code you apply when you order shoes online? What is there to learn?

“Yes, I’m studying several websites to learn how to save money using coupons.” Her excitement grew as she spoke. “Last week our grocery bill was only twenty-two dollars and ninety-one cents.”

“Please, share your secret!” The woman seated directly across the table joined the conversation, asking the bride’s sister multiple questions. Allie gave a silent thanks to her for providing the opportunity to exit the conversation.

She didn’t care how the woman saved so much money by couponing. Allie was too busy keeping her newly formed advertising agency afloat. Buying laundry detergent at a discount wouldn’t help her pay the rents on her small office in downtown Providence, Rhode Island, and her apartment.

She ate her salad quietly. They were in the smallest of the private dining rooms at a Newport restaurant. She hadn’t been to Newport in years, even though it was only about forty-five minutes from where she lived and worked.

The walls were a golden oak, and a stained-glass window on the wall at the end of the table muted the room’s lighting. The white linen tablecloth touched the floor. The table was set with fine ivory china and etched crystal, accented by pink napkins and matching roses in small vases. Of course the roses were pink. What other color would a traditional June bride choose?

Despite her soon-to-be sister-in-law’s penchant for everything girlie, including marriage and raising a family, Allie really did like her. Emily was personable and smart, and she made Scott very happy.

He was the youngest of her four siblings and the last to marry. Scott and her sister, Rachael, had been adopted from China, her older brothers from Russia, and Allie herself from the United States.

Allie looked around the table. She was surrounded by women like Emily. Women who were married or engaged to be married. Women who probably thought they needed their other half to complete them.

That would never be Allie. She’d thought like them at one time, but not anymore. Yes, she knew men had their uses, but even great sex wasn’t worth the trade-off. In Jimmy’s case, that trade-off had been the threat of prison.

Jimmy had promised everything would be fine. He’d told her there was no need for her to worry about getting the account. Said he had the client wrapped around his little finger. Now he was behind bars and Allie had almost ended up there, too.

“Allison, dear.” Her mother never shortened her name. Allie had been named after her mother’s Aunt Allison, who would never have answered to a shortened version of her name. “Would you please pass the water pitcher?”

She refilled her mother’s glass.

“It really is a shame you’ll be coming to the wedding alone.” Her mother’s disappointed tone was one Allie had heard regularly over the years, but she couldn’t give in.

She was definitely off men. No other half, no soul mate, no partner for life.

No ball and chain.

* * *

JACK FLETCHER READ the details on the wedding invitation again. He’d replied six weeks ago to say he’d be there with his girlfriend.

Brenda had been his ex-girlfriend for several weeks now, but he hadn’t yet let his cousin Emily know that he’d be coming alone to her wedding. It wasn’t as if he thought he’d get back together with Brenda. He’d merely forgotten. Work had been his priority.

The break-up had been a mutual decision. And in truth, theirs wasn’t what most people would call a real relationship. More like just having fun. But it turned out Brenda was anxious to have a domestic life in the suburbs with kids and a minivan—he wasn’t. End of story, as well as of their short-lived time together.

He focused on the invitation. The wedding was tomorrow. Too late to tell his cousin there would be one fewer guest at the reception. She’d probably already given the caterer a head count. And he knew better than to upset a bride right before her big day. As kids, he and Emily had been close, but they had grown apart somewhat as adults. It would be nice to see her again.

He could ask someone else to go with him, but most women would take an invitation to his family wedding as a precursor to a relationship. Or at least a second date.

He refilled his coffee cup and stepped out onto the front porch of his home, located in The Point neighborhood of Newport. He enjoyed the warm June breeze and the sight of fresh potted flowers on several porches and window boxes up and down his street. Forsythia had turned almost completely from yellow blooms to green leaves, and the hydrangeas were about to bloom.

He never thought he’d be happy in anything but a high-rise apartment in downtown Providence, close to where he worked at his grandfather’s advertising agency, but here he was. He’d bought the property a little over a year ago as an investment, expecting to fix it up and rent it out. Somewhere along the way, he’d begun spending nights at the house, away from work pressures. Before he could change his mind, he’d given up his Providence condo and moved to Newport.

“Hi, Jack.”

He hadn’t seen Charlotte Harrington sitting on her porch on the other side of the narrow street.

“Hey, Charlotte, what’s up?”

“Not much.” She gave him a sad smile, wiping what he assumed was a tear from her cheek. She’d lost her mother less than a year ago, not long before she moved in. She’d been raised an only child and had recently experienced her first Mother’s Day since her mom’s death. It had hit Charlotte hard.

Jack had met her when she bought her house. Charlotte was an artist, he’d discovered, and a somewhat successful one according to what he’d read on the internet.

“What are you working on?” Jack called out as he descended the side steps from his porch, crossed the street and ascended hers.

“A new project,” she said softly, closing her laptop and setting it on the floor next to her rocking chair. “I told you I’m adopted, right?”

At his nod, she continued. “I never had the urge to track down my biological parents, but lately I’ve been thinking that I should at least find out my medical history.”

Her adoptive mother had died of pancreatic cancer. He figured that must be an unrelenting motivator.

Jack nodded. “Any luck?”

She shrugged. “I just started this morning. ‘The first day of the rest of my life’ and all that.” Her mouth twitched ever so slightly, and she tucked her chin-length dark hair behind one ear.

“Sounds like a step in the right direction.”

“I guess so. Want to sit?” She pointed to the rocker that matched hers.

He pulled out his cell phone to check the time. “Sure, I have a few minutes before my conference call.”

“You’re working from home today?”

“Kind of. After the call, I’m going to visit my grandfather in Providence. He’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, no. Is it serious?”

“I’m not sure.” He sipped his coffee, placed it on the table between their rockers and sat down. “He was admitted with heart problems. That’s all I really know. I’m hoping to get more detailed information when I’m there in person.”

“This is the grandfather you work for?” She drank from her plastic tumbler. Even her careful movements screamed grief stricken.

He nodded. His granddad had started the advertising firm forty-five years ago, and Jack was expected to take over the reins one day.

“Tell me about this search,” he said. “How do people find their biological parents?”

Jack felt comfortable asking Charlotte these rather personal questions. The two of them had become friends the day she moved in. He’d come home from work exhausted and there she had been, sitting in the same rocking chair as now on an unusually warm fall day, enjoying a beer from the bottle. From across the street she’d offered him one, before asking if he knew anything about plumbing. So he’d taught her how to replace the insides of a toilet and get it to stop running constantly. She, in turn, always had a cold beer ready for him.

“I don’t really know yet. I’ve been reading websites that explain how to start the search. They say things like, ‘Ask your adoptive parents about the adoption agency or lawyer they went through.’ I wish I could. Mom went so quickly that I never had a chance to bring up the subject. And until recently, I never even thought about finding my biological parents. But after losing my mom to cancer, I really need to know what might be in store for me, medically speaking. Not only for me, but for any children I might have.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Did your mom have a file or anything where she might have kept that information?”

Charlotte’s eyebrows rose. “Good point. I haven’t been through everything yet. She saved every piece of paper that came her way. There are boxes and boxes to go through. I’ll look for an adoption file next.”

He’d never had a woman friend before, but he enjoyed Charlotte’s company. He felt strangely brotherly toward her—a novelty since, like her, he’d been raised as an only child.

Charlotte wasn’t anywhere close to the type of woman he dated. And even if there had been a slight hint of sexual attraction between them, he certainly wouldn’t get involved with a neighbor. How awkward would it be when they stopped seeing each other?

Luckily Charlotte wasn’t the type to make assumptions... Suddenly he had a brilliant idea. Charlotte needed cheering up and he needed a plus one. “What are you doing Saturday?”

Her eyes narrowed. “This Saturday? Like tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “Are you free?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“It depends on why you’re asking me if I’m free on Saturday.” She folded her hands on her lap, waiting for him to explain.

“I need a date for my cousin’s wedding.” He held up a hand. “Not really a date. A plus one.”

“You’re asking me with one day’s notice?” She cocked her head and waited for him to continue.

He let out a breath. “A few weeks ago, when I sent back the RSVP, I told Emily—my cousin—that I’d be bringing a date. You remember I was dating Brenda, right?”

Charlotte coughed to cover her laugh. “Oh, yeah, I remember Brenda.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Tell me.”

She hesitated. “Well, she was just a little too much for me.”

“Too much?”

“She wasn’t real, personality-wise. She was one person with you and quite another when you weren’t around.”

He thought about it for a second. “Go on.”

“Did she ever tell you to stay away from me?”

“Stay away from you?” He scratched his head. “No. Why would she do that?”

“That’s what she said to me. She made it very clear that I was not supposed to have anything to do with you. Although I’m not surprised that she never brought it up with you.”

This time he was the one cocking his head. “She told you to stay away from me?”

Charlotte nodded. “I don’t think she understood that our relationship is friendly, neighborly. She saw me as a threat.”

He chuckled. “Do me a favor. Next time you meet someone I’m dating, please let me know stuff like that. I would have dropped her sooner if I’d known she had such a jealous streak. That trait, along with the dominant domestic gene, are a deadly combination.”

They laughed together, trading stories of past dating disasters. He was glad to see Charlotte smile.

“So will you go to my cousin’s wedding with me?” he asked. “Anyone else I bring will expect a second date.”

She winked at him. “I guess this means I’m off the hook for any other time you need a plus one.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean—” He glimpsed the twinkle in her eye that was rarely seen. “You’re teasing.”

“Of course I am.” She sipped her drink. “I’d love to go. I barely leave the house since I work at home. This will be good for me.”

He was glad she saw it that way. “Great! We’ll have fun. I’ll make sure of it.” He checked the time on his cell phone and got up from the rocker. “I better go make that conference call. I’ll email you the wedding details.” He picked up his coffee cup.

“Sounds good.” She rose, as well. “I’m going to go dig out Mom’s old files that I haven’t been through yet and then figure out what to wear on our nondate.”

He smiled. As he turned and went down the steps, he saw her sketch pad propped against the porch railing. The ocean was churning and the sky was dark, as if a storm was brewing. He turned back and asked Charlotte, “Is this yours?” At her nod, he said, “It’s so different—darker—from what you’ve done in the past.”

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “No matter how much I try, I just can’t seem to make myself use color in any of my art these days. I’m drawn to charcoal, as if my world is black and white.”

He considered her statement a moment and said in a terrible British accent, “I take that as a challenge, my lady.” He swept off a pretend hat and bowed in the middle of the street, as if he were a prince and she his princess-to-be. “Until tomorrow...”

She smiled, giving him hope that someday soon she would be the happy person he knew she could be.

He gave her a little wave and a wink. “See you later,” he called, and he took his porch steps two at a time.

* * *

SATURDAY MORNING DAWNED bright with sunshine, but Allie’s mood didn’t match the weather. Morning had come too quickly after her late night, and she craved a few more hours of sleep. But no, her mother was adamant Allie have her hair done with the other girls. She wasn’t in the wedding party, thanks to some fast-talking when her sister-in-law-to-be brought it up. Allie was merely a reader at the ceremony. Regardless, her mother had insisted on her presence at several wedding-party functions.

Allie had attended the rehearsal last night like a good little girl, followed by a catered dinner at the Chinese Tea House on the Bellevue House grounds. Thanks to the bride’s parents, who were members of the preservation society, Emily and Scott would have their wedding reception at Bellevue House, one of Newport’s glamorous, historic mansions, recently donated and restored for members’ functions. And getting married at St. Mary’s Church, the same church as John and Jackie Kennedy, wasn’t too shabby, Allie supposed.

If you were into weddings, that is.

After the rehearsal dinner, Allie spent hours working on her presentation for the client who could rescue her advertising agency. She had a meeting scheduled for Monday, and there was too much preparation necessary to do it all on Sunday. Now she wasn’t quite done, but she’d gotten far enough along to be able to enjoy her brother’s big day.

After a group breakfast with the females in the wedding party, Allie was getting her hair washed and “done” at Crystal’s Salon and Spa. Allie wasn’t sure what the “spa” part of the title meant. There didn’t seem to be anything to the shop but a large room for washing and styling hair, a back room to mix coloring chemicals and a dryer that was presumably tumbling towels.

“I don’t want anything too extreme,” she told her stylist, Shari. The young woman had a blue streak in her hair and a prominent tattoo on her bare right shoulder and down her arm.

“You have gorgeous hair,” Shari told her as she combed through Allie’s dark, wet tangles. “Do you want an updo like the rest of the party?”

“I’m not a bridesmaid,” Allie said. “I’m not sure exactly how I want my hair done.” Her hairstyle had been the least of her concerns recently.

Before Allie could decide, Shari said, “I think we keep it down and do a crimped version of your style.” She scrunched Allie’s chin-length hair a little to give her an idea of where Shari was headed. “What do you think?”

“That’s good,” Allie said. Much better than an updo, which would make her feel like she was attending her high school prom.

“So, where do you fit into all this?” Shari asked as she rubbed a squirt of mousse between her hands and applied it to Allie’s hair. “If you’re not a bridesmaid, then what are you?”

Allie couldn’t help smiling at Shari’s openness. “I’m the sister of the groom. I passed on the bridesmaid role,” she said in a loud whisper over the whir of the hair dryers. “It’s not really my thing, and the bride didn’t need one more anyway. I’m sure she asked me only to be polite. She already had six bridesmaids, two junior bridesmaids and two flower girls.”

“Wow! No wonder everyone’s booked this morning.”

Shari kept up a running conversation while she worked on her hair, complimenting Allie’s great skin and the striking blue of her eyes next to her milky-white complexion.

This girl was definitely jonesing for a large tip. By the end of their time together, Allie was much more relaxed and decided Shari certainly deserved that tip.

Next stop, back to the downtown Newport hotel where they were all staying so she could get dressed and apply makeup. Another group event she’d taken a pass on, deciding to do these tasks on her own.

At least her mother hadn’t made an issue of that, too.

* * *

ONCE CHARLOTTE FINALLY figured out what she was going to wear on this nondate with Jack, her excitement grew. She hadn’t done anything for the fun of it in...well, she couldn’t remember the last time.

Since her mother’s cancer diagnosis a little over a year ago, Charlotte had been with her mom nearly 24/7 until her passing. Her mother had no other living relatives. After being left all alone, Charlotte’s focus had been settling her mother’s estate and buying the historic home she’d fallen in love with on sight. She had an art studio set up in one of the bedrooms, and she rarely left home except for necessities.

She wasn’t even sure she remembered how to have fun.

She finished her makeup and spent some extra time curling her dark hair into soft waves that came just below her chin. According to the clock on her nightstand, she still had twenty minutes before Jack would come by for her. She was about to slip on her dress when she heard her cell phone.

A text message from Jack.

Running late. Visiting Granddad and he passed out. He’s fine now. Will be there ASAP.

She texted back.

Glad he’s OK. Do you want me to meet you at the wedding?

Jack’s grandfather was in a Providence hospital, which meant Jack was about forty-five minutes away. St. Mary’s church was only a short drive from her house if tourist traffic wasn’t too heavy.

No. I have to change for the wedding. Didn’t expect to stay this long.

When she was ready to go, Charlotte made herself comfortable on her porch. She didn’t want Jack to have to wait even a second longer on her account.

The wedding was scheduled to begin at two, which was almost the time Jack’s black sports car came down the street. He spotted her immediately and waved as he ran from where he’d parallel parked his car on the street to his front porch steps that he took by twos. “I’ll be right out.”

Charlotte checked her small silver clutch to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything and then locked her front door. She walked carefully down her porch steps to the sidewalk with its cracks and bumps, and then crossed the street. She wasn’t used to wearing the four-inch heels that went with the sapphire-blue dress she’d chosen, but she’d manage. Her dress was gathered on one side under the bust with a glittery silver buckle, and her strappy silver shoes completed the outfit.

“All set?” Jack appeared on his porch, straightening his gold tie and securing a gold tie bar. His dark suit jacket was folded over one arm. He locked his front door and stopped abruptly at the top of his steps. “Wow! You clean up real nice.”

Charlotte’s cheeks heated. She wasn’t used to being complimented on anything but her artwork, even in such a flippant manner. “Thank you.” She couldn’t help noticing he didn’t look half-bad either. “So do you.”

“What, this old thing?” He grinned as he opened the passenger-side door for her and then came around the car to lay his jacket in the backseat before getting into the driver’s seat. “I’m really sorry we’re so late.” He checked the silver watch on his wrist. “By the time we fight the Saturday tourist traffic and park, we’ll probably have missed the ceremony completely. Why don’t we head directly to the reception?”

“Hey, she’s your cousin. No one will miss me,” she teased. “How’s your grandfather? You said he passed out?”

Jack nodded as he pulled out of his parking spot and drove up their street. “I waited until the doctor examined him. The doctor said it was probably low blood sugar because everything else checked out. Turned out Granddad didn’t eat much for lunch today. I guess he’s not thrilled with the food they serve.”

“That’s too bad. Can you bring food in for him?”

“He’s on a low-sodium diet, which makes that difficult.”

“No wonder he doesn’t like the food, if they’re leaving out the salt.”

A few more minutes of small talk and they were at Bellevue House, being directed where to park.

“It’s a beautiful day for a wedding,” Charlotte commented as she exited the car. “They could have had an outdoor wedding. Not that planning an outdoor wedding in this area would be a smart idea.”

“That could be a disaster with the wind gusts off the ocean alone, but I’m sure a lot of brides risk it when you can have the Atlantic Ocean or Narragansett Bay as a backdrop.” Jack put on his suit jacket and then held out his bent arm for her. “Shall we?”

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they headed toward the mansion with its manicured gardens and huge round fountain. “Tell me how you’re related to these people. You said the bride is your cousin?” At his nod, she asked, “And the grandfather you just visited?”

“He’s my mom’s father. The bride is my dad’s niece.”

“Will your mother be here?” She hadn’t thought about how much family he would have at the wedding. His grandfather had raised him, but Jack had never mentioned what had happened to his parents.

“No.” He paused. “She passed away a long time ago.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I should have...”

He stopped walking and looked at her. “It’s okay. I haven’t mentioned it because of your situation. She died when I was about ten.”

He put a hand on the small of her back, and they continued walking.

Charlotte blinked away the tears that threatened. It didn’t take much for her to remember her own mother.

“I always forget how impressive the mansions are,” he said in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

She nodded. “Such a romantic place to have a wedding.”

“If you’re into those things.”

She glanced sideways at him. “I take it you’re not?”

“Definitely not.” He grinned and then winked. “I’m not a good candidate for marriage, so a wedding is nowhere in my future plans.”

Before she could ask about his plans, they reached the mansion and were directed to the terrace for drinks and hors d’oeuvres.

There must have been more than two hundred people in attendance, mostly standing in groups under the large, striped awning, while a few others sat. There were small, round tables with floor-length tablecloths and six cushioned ladder-back chairs at each. Two bars were set up, one at each end of the terrace, and both had long lines.

“What would you like to drink?” He guided her in the direction of the closest bar.

“A soda would be fine for now.” She wasn’t used to drinking in the middle of the afternoon. The last thing she’d want to do was drink too much and make a fool of herself.

“Oh, there’s my cousin Frank and his wife.” Jack scrunched his face. “I can’t remember her name. Anyway, Frank’s a lot of fun. I’ll introduce you, and you can sit with them while I get us drinks.”

Charlotte wasn’t a “talk to strangers” kind of gal, but since Jack was the only one she knew in the room, she’d try her best to fake it. And it would give her an excuse to not have to stand in her high heels, which were already being troublesome.

* * *

JACK HATED LEAVING CHARLOTTE, but the whole idea of inviting her was to get her out amongst people. Ideally his cousin could engage her and keep her thoughts away from her grief better than Jack had. He should have known the subject of his parents would come up when they were attending a family wedding. At least Charlotte hadn’t asked about his dad, too.

After several minutes, he was nearly at the front of the line. The couples ahead of and behind him were strangers, so he quietly looked over the crowd for people he knew. The wedding party must still be taking pictures. He didn’t see the bride, groom or anyone associated with them on the terrace.

“I’d like two colas,” he told the older man who was bartending. He slipped a dollar into the tip jar and stepped away with the two glasses.

He was making his way back to the table where he’d left Charlotte when he saw her in line at the other bar. She had her back to him, her arms crossed.

A moment of worry hit him. What had happened? Had she gotten tired of waiting for her drink and decided to get her own? Had she not gotten along with Frank and his wife?

Jack hurried through the crowd. He came up behind her and said, “Charlotte?” When she didn’t react, he tapped her shoulder to get her attention.

“What’s the matter, too impatient to wait till I got back?” he asked.

As soon as the woman he thought was Charlotte turned around, he knew it wasn’t Charlotte, even though the resemblance was incredible. She wore a dress similar to Charlotte’s in color, and her hair was not only the same dark brown but also styled nearly identically.

“I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else.” He couldn’t help staring into her gorgeous blue eyes. Uncanny. They were exactly like Charlotte’s, but somehow different.

Instead of seeing Charlotte’s grief in her eyes, he saw definite annoyance.

CHAPTER TWO

ALL SHE WANTED was a drink. A glass of water would do—a shot of tequila would be better. “Did you want something?” Allie asked the man who was still staring at her.

He twisted his neck slightly and raised his chin as if his stiff white shirt collar was too tight. He held a glass of dark liquid with a cocktail straw in each hand.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” He blinked.

“You said that already.”

“The resemblance is remarkable.”

“I’m sure it is.” Whatever that meant.

She glanced to her right and saw her very pregnant sister, Rachael, coming toward her. Uh-oh. Now what? Maybe she should have given in to her mother and found a date for this shindig instead of being everyone’s errand girl. She was beginning to think her mother was looking for things for her to do to punish her for refusing to bring a date.

She turned back to the guy who’d mistaken her for another woman, but he was gone. She probably should have been nicer to him. He was pretty hot in his well-tailored, dark suit that made his dark eyes look nearly black. His almost-black hair was neatly trimmed, shorter on the sides with a little height on top, but not too much. Yeah, definitely hot.

“What do you need me to do now?” Allie asked Rachael as soon as her sister was within hearing range.

“Dad left his inhaler back at the hotel, and he’s having trouble with all the blooming flowers around here.”

Allie rolled her eyes. They could have stopped at the hotel on their way from the church if he’d remembered sooner. “Okay, I’ll go get it.”

“I could go—”

Allie shook her head. “I’ll do it. You’ve got enough to worry about between Sophie and her little brother, who you’re cooking in there.” She pointed to Rachael’s expanding belly and then looked around the room. “Speaking of Sophie, where is she?” Allie’s three-year-old niece had developed a tendency to wander off since arriving in town, and the entire family was on constant lookout.

“Dan’s got her occupied,” Rachael said, referring to her husband. “If you’re sure, then I’ll go back to keep an eye on Dad.”

“I’m sure.” Maybe she could even stop for a big bottle of water while she was gone. She sure wasn’t going to get a drop of it in this slow line anytime soon.

* * *

JACK SET A glass of soda in front of Charlotte, who sat alone at the table. He took the seat next to her, anxious to share what he’d seen. “Guess what? You have a doppelgänger.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Really?”

As someone adopted as a baby, did she search crowds to find other people with similar DNA? Or was he projecting his own thoughts on the situation? As an only child, he had often found himself wondering what it would be like to have a sibling. Especially during his teenage years.

“Yeah, she’s over there in line at the bar.” He stood up again and surveyed the room to find Charlotte’s look-alike. He squinted but didn’t see her in either line. He sat back down. “She’s gone. But I’ll point her out next time I see her. You can’t miss her. She’s even wearing a dress almost the same color as yours.”

He gestured to the plates and glasses left on the table across from Charlotte, where Frank and his wife had been sitting. “What happened to those two?” The last thing he wanted was for Charlotte to be by herself. She was supposed to be having some fun.

“They went to look at the collage of baby pictures of the bride and groom,” Charlotte said. “I told them I’d make sure no one cleared away their food and drinks. And, just so you know, Frank’s wife’s name is Julia.”

“That’s it.” He knew he’d recognize her name when he heard it. “Sorry it took me so long to get the drinks. The bartenders are in no hurry. Want some food?”

“I’m good with a soda right now, but go ahead and eat if you’re hungry.”

“I did skip lunch, what with Granddad’s episode.”

Charlotte grinned. “Then go get some food. I’m fine right here. I’ll even keep watch for my doppelgänger.”

“The resemblance is remarkable.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I promise not to take so long this time.” He spoke over his shoulder. “I’ll bring enough to share in case you change your mind.”

Jack kept a lookout for Charlotte’s double as he made his way through the throng of people toward the food. No sign of her, though. He filled a plate with different cheeses, crackers and fruit, grabbed two napkins and hightailed it back to Charlotte. He was supposed to be showing her a good time, and instead he’d spent more time away from her than with her.

He slipped a piece of cheese into his mouth and set the plate where both he and Charlotte could reach it. “Miss me?” He winked and was pleased to see her smile. He handed her a napkin and then pointed out people he knew while they emptied the plate of food.

“We’re back!” Frank and Julia appeared suddenly as the very tall glass French doors opened and everyone was invited into the ballroom.

Jack and Charlotte were seated at the cousin table. Frank and Julia were across from them, with Frank’s sister, Kate, and her husband on Charlotte’s side. Next to Jack was his cousin R.J. and R.J.’s girlfriend, whose name he didn’t catch.

The wedding party arrived a few minutes later, and they were introduced. Charlotte whispered to Jack, “Look how many attendants there are. I’ve never seen so many pink dresses.”

“I know. This could take all night,” Jack whispered back, still watching for Charlotte’s double.

After a stilted toast by the best man and a long, weepy and emotional tribute from the maid of honor, dinner was finally served. A Caesar salad and warm rolls were followed by a choice of salmon or vegetarian pasta primavera.

Without warning, Julia, who had excused herself a few minutes before, came up behind Charlotte and said loudly enough for Jack to hear, “Charlotte, I just saw someone in the ladies’ room who looks exactly like you!”

* * *

“I FEEL BAD for you,” Rachael told Allie at dinner. “You’ve missed so much of the day.”

Allie shook her head and chewed the bite of salad she’d stuffed in her mouth. She was starving. She hadn’t eaten since that protein shake she’d gulped down on her way to get her hair done that morning. “It’s okay. Weddings aren’t my thing anyway.”

Rachael looked at her askance. “You know, the day will come when you’ll change your mind about that.”

“I doubt it.” Allie buttered a roll, not caring that she’d been trying to avoid carbs now that it was swimsuit season. She’d make up for it by running an extra mile tomorrow.

If she could squeeze it in between attending the family brunch and completing her potential client’s presentation.

“You just haven’t found the right guy.” Rachael tilted her head at her husband, who was playing keep away with an asparagus spear he was trying to get Sophie to eat. She was giggling wildly as Dan attempted to feed it to her ear.

“You got the last good one,” Allie told her sister. “The guys I meet are interested only in what’s in it for them.”

“Jimmy was an idiot,” Rachael said, fully aware of his stupid extortion plan. “You can’t compare all men to him.”

Allie shrugged and took a bite of her salmon with dill sauce. It melted in her mouth, and she practically moaned aloud. “He was the last in a long line of users.”

“You mean losers,” her sister corrected her.

“Yeah, that, too.” Allie couldn’t argue with the truth. She pushed back her chair when they announced it was time to cut the cake. “I’m going to the bar. You want anything? Soda? Mineral water? Juice?”

Rachael shook her head. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

She looked to Dan. He held up his hand, and it was quickly grabbed by Sophie. “I’m good, thanks,” he said on a laugh.

No one else had shown up to sit at their table for her to entertain, so Allie hurried off to the bar.

“Hey,” the female bartender greeted her. “You must be thirsty from all your running around. I keep seeing you everywhere I look.”

“I doubt you saw me every time. They tell me I have a double here somewhere.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Really? And you haven’t seen her yet?”

Allie shook her head. The idea of someone looking that much like her was crazy. “Hard to find anyone in this crowd.”

“Well, if I see her,” the bartender said, “I’ll tell her you’re looking for her.”

A lie, since Allie didn’t care about this other woman, but she gratefully accepted her white wine, kept her mouth shut and headed outside, where the sun had almost set.

* * *

THE BRIDE AND GROOM’S first dance was nearly over, and Jack was still searching for Charlotte’s double. Then the bride danced with her father while the groom danced with his mother.

Jack was sure he’d spy Charlotte’s double once the bride threw her bouquet. Unfortunately, the woman was nowhere to be found when that time came. Maybe she was married. Not that it mattered either way. But why was she was so hard to spot?

“I wonder what happened to her.” Jack craned his neck to look around the crowded room.

Charlotte laughed. “Stop worrying about some woman who looks like me. If we’re meant to see each other, we will.”

“How can you not be intrigued? I think it’s pretty cool.” Jack shrugged. He looked at her and smiled. “Want to dance?”

The “Chicken Dance” was starting, and people were forming a circle on the dance floor.

“Really? The ‘Chicken Dance’?” Charlotte laughed but rose from her chair. “Sure, why not? You probably just want to get out there to see if you can spot her.”

He grabbed her hand and gave her a pull. “You’re absolutely right!”

They were both laughing by the time they squeezed into the circle of participants. Charlotte’s laughter made him feel good. Even more so when the music got faster and faster and they messed up the motions because they were laughing hysterically.

“Do you see her anywhere?” Charlotte asked breathlessly after they finished the “Chicken Dance” and a just-as-much-fun attempt at doing the “Y.M.C.A.”

He pulled her in to slow dance to a Beatles favorite. “See, you are interested in finding her,” he teased.

She turned her face away, but not before he saw a corner of her mouth curl up. “Maybe I am a little curious.”

“I knew it.” He squeezed her hand in his and spun them around a hundred and eighty degrees.

“Whoa!” She laughed. A wonderful sound to hear.

* * *

ALLIE SAT ON the edge of the large fountain outside the mansion. Her wine was long gone, and the empty glass sat next to her. The outside lights were the only illumination. What time was it? Almost time to go home? Could she make a break for it, or would she need to help gather and transport things back to the hotel for the bride and groom? Did she really have to stay until after they were gone? Her brother wouldn’t care. He probably wouldn’t even miss her.

Too many questions. Not enough answers.

All she wanted to do was go back to the hotel and get a good night’s sleep. It only made matters more stressful that her incomplete Monday-morning presentation was hanging over her head. This account could make or break her agency. Where would she be if she didn’t get the account?

Her parents’ spare room in rural upstate New York? The same room she had growing up?

No way.

She inhaled deeply. The floral scent around her was strong. No wonder Dad had needed his inhaler. The last she saw him, though, he was enjoying a piece of wedding cake.

Her parents were wonderful people. Even when Mom was pushing her to “find the right man,” Allie knew her mother’s motives were pure.

That didn’t preclude Allie from feeling like an outsider in her own family, though. She just didn’t think or act like the rest of them.

She stood up, brushed off the back of her dress and picked up her empty wineglass. A quick stop in the restroom to touch up her lipstick and she’d get back to the party.

She adjusted her evening bag’s chain strap on her shoulder and headed inside.

* * *

CHARLOTTE WAS HAVING a wonderful time. She couldn’t remember when she’d laughed so much. Jack really was fun to hang out with. Since she’d moved to Newport from Burlington, Vermont, she hadn’t gotten close enough to call anyone a friend. But Jack fit the bill.

The crowd had begun to thin a little, and she was slightly disappointed that she never did run into her double. She must have taken off earlier in the evening.

“We can leave whenever you’ve had enough,” Jack told her. “Unless you want to take a short break and hit the dance floor again.”

“Let me think about it while I go to the ladies’ room,” she said. “But if you’re ready to go—”

“I’ll get us fresh drinks and we can see how we feel.” He pulled at his collar. “It’s pretty warm in here. Why don’t I meet you out in the hall? I saw a nice seating area around the corner to the left.”

She nodded and headed to the restroom. Even this late, there was a line coming out the door.

“Is there another restroom to use?” she asked one of the bartenders.

“Go right around there—” she pointed down the hallway “—and you’ll see a sign. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks!”

Turned out the bathroom was on the lower level. It took a while for her to make her way down the old cement stairs without breaking her neck on her high heels, and then she had to navigate a maze of hallways. But once she committed, she refused to turn back.

* * *

JACK GOT THEM drinks as promised. Another white wine for Charlotte and a Scotch on the rocks for himself. He sipped his drink and waited for his “date” to return.

Very few people came by, and he wondered if Charlotte might have misunderstood where they should meet. He went back into the ballroom and there she was, on the far side of the large room. Charlotte’s back was to him and she was speaking to one of the bridesmaids, which surprised him. She was being more outgoing than he’d thought she would be. Maybe coming to the wedding had helped her remember life before grief. He had no idea what her personality had been like before her mother became ill—perhaps she’d been more outgoing, adventurous.

The DJ switched to “Shout,” and the dance floor filled up quickly. Jack caught himself tapping his foot to the beat, so he set down his drinks and made his way around the crowd to where Charlotte was.

She was unaware of his presence. He came up behind her and grabbed her waist. “Let’s dance.” She squealed and said something, but the music was too loud for him to hear her. “Sorry, Patience,” he apologized to his cousin for interrupting their conversation. Then he took Charlotte’s hand and pulled her behind him onto the dance floor.

He found an open spot and then turned to face her. His jaw dropped. The woman wasn’t Charlotte.

The woman he’d dragged onto the dance floor was her very angry double.

* * *

“WHAT DO YOU think you’re doing?” Allie had to yell over the blaring music to be heard. She ripped her hand out of his.

The man who’d pulled her away from her conversation with the sister of her new sister-in-law stood there with his mouth hanging open.

She widened her eyes, an attempt to clue him in that she was waiting for an explanation.

“You’re not Charlotte,” he finally yelled back over the loud music. “But, damn, you two could be twins.”

“Yeah, right. If this shtick is an example of what you think is a good pickup line, then you’re in for a shock, buddy. This ain’t workin’ at all.”

She turned to leave the dance floor. The song ended and the volume lowered as the DJ played a slow song. Instead of letting her walk away, the crazy guy spun her into his arms.

She stiffened. “What are you doing? Let me go.”

He loosened his grip, though their bodies remained a few inches apart. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t make a scene. My cousin—the bride—would never forgive me.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you dragged me away from my conversation with her sister.” Who must also be his cousin, if he was telling the truth.

They swayed to the music, and her anger slowly abated. She remembered the feeling of being held by a handsome man and had the urge to press against his solid form but didn’t want him getting the wrong idea.

“Who are you?” His breath was warm on her cheek. “Besides being my date’s doppelgänger?”

“Allie. Who are you?” She wasn’t about to give him a last name, even if she did share it with the groom.

“Jack.”

“Just Jack?” She looked him straight on.

“Just Allie?” he countered with a damn sexy grin.

She considered it. “Allie Miller, sister of the groom.”

Jack’s feet planted in place, and he stared at her. His eyes narrowed. “Really? The groom’s sister?”

She got that reaction all the time. She’d spent her life explaining. “Scott was born in China. I wasn’t.”

Allie nearly laughed as the lightbulb figuratively came on over Jack’s head.

The song was ending and Allie halfheartedly tried to free herself, but he held her hand. “Let me get you a drink as way of apologizing for my behavior.” Another slow song began, and he pulled her closer.

“No need,” she said a little breathlessly. “I’ve been hearing all night about this woman who looks exactly like me, but I haven’t seen her yet.”

He chuckled, his warm breath ruffling her hair against her cheek. “I know. I’ve been trying to find you again ever since I saw you in the line at the bar. I think Charlotte thought I was crazy until other people started telling her they’d seen you, too.”

Allie nodded, inhaling deeply. She found the hint of his spicy soap or aftershave or something intoxicating. His splayed hand at the small of her back was practically burning through her dress to her skin, and it was all she could do to keep her rubbery legs from giving out. She couldn’t think beyond how his thigh felt so good against hers. She was hyperaware of every cell of her body.

“Charlotte? That’s her name? This woman who looks like me.” A sudden thought caught her by surprise. “Is she your wife?”

He laughed from deep in his chest. “Not even close. She’s a friend, my neighbor from across the street. Someone who needed to get out and have a good time.”

“And yet you’re dancing with me and not her.” She looked directly at him and raised an eyebrow.

His smile in return was almost her undoing. His full lips revealed straight white teeth, and the gleam in his eyes had her expecting a tinkling bell to go off like it would in a television commercial.

He squeezed her hand with his much larger one and whispered in her ear, “She’ll understand.” His cheek rubbed lightly against hers, and her knees nearly folded.

Allie was glad this Charlotte would understand, because Allie didn’t have a clue about what was happening.

One minute she was playing errand girl for her family, and the next she was in the arms of a complete stranger who didn’t feel strange at all.

In fact, he felt pretty damn good.

* * *

JACK DIDN’T WANT to let her go. His attraction to Allie—who was essentially a stranger—was strong and unexpected. He could barely keep his body under control.

He needed to talk about something nonsexual. Not that anything they’d talked about had been sexual in the least. Exactly the opposite. But that hadn’t stopped his body from responding otherwise. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off.

“I should introduce you to Charlotte,” he said abruptly. He cleared the hoarseness from his throat.

“Of course,” she murmured close to his ear. “I’d love to meet her.”

He had to stop thinking about Allie’s breasts pressing against him.

“As soon as this song ends,” he promised.

“Uh-huh.”

He had to stop wondering what she tasted like. The nape of her neck, her earlobe, her shoulder.

Stop.

He inhaled deeply in an effort to clear his thoughts, but instead caught a whiff of something citrus. Her shampoo? Perfume? Intoxicating, whatever it was.

The song ended.

They drew apart, but Jack held on to her hand. He opened his mouth to speak. Before he could form words, he heard another voice.

“Allie.” The very pregnant Asian woman who spoke sounded out of breath as she hurried toward them. “Do you have that double-sided tape? Mom caught her heel in the hem of her skirt, and she refuses to come out of the bathroom until she can fix it.”

“It’s in my purse.” Allie looked around the room. “I think I left it at my seat. I’ll go get it and take it to Mom.”

“I can do it,” the woman said. “I don’t want to interrupt whatever this is.” She pointed to the two of them with a devilish grin.

“It’s nothing,” Allie insisted.

“Hey,” Jack said automatically.

“You’ve had a long day,” Allie reminded the woman, pointedly ignoring Jack. “Go sit for a few minutes and get off your feet.”

Allie had apology written all over her face when she spoke to Jack. “This won’t take long.” She extricated her hand from his, and he immediately wanted to snatch it back. “By the way, this is my sister, Rachael Thompson.” She said to Rachael, “This is Jack—” She turned to him with furrowed eyebrows. He’d never told her his last name.

Jack put a hand out to Rachael. “Jack Fletcher, cousin of the bride. Nice to meet you.”

Allie smiled. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let him go anywhere, Rach. He’s the one who brought my double to the wedding. I’m anxious to see her for myself.”

“So you admit you’re using me,” he teased loudly as she hurried away.

She shook a fist in the air, and he heard her laugh as she disappeared through the crowd.

* * *

CHARLOTTE FINALLY FOUND the ladies’ room on the lower level, but it was locked up tight with an out-of-order sign on the door. Deciding it would have been easier to just wait in line, she made her way back up to the main-floor bathroom.

The straps of her shoes dug into her feet and she was tempted to take them off, but of course she didn’t. She needed to behave like a proper guest at Jack’s cousin’s wedding, not the frequently barefoot, yoga pants–wearing, free-spirited artist she normally was.

The line was gone by the time she arrived at the restroom. She hurried past the lounge area, where two women were seated on the sofa. They were hunched over, concentrating on some task. Charlotte barely noticed them as she located an empty stall.

“Okay, Mom, I think you’re all set now,” one of the women said.

“Thank you, dear,” the other replied. “I really appreciate your help. I’m glad you were so prepared.”

“I’ll see you out there in a few minutes,” the original speaker said. Then Charlotte heard the opening and closing of the door leading to the hallway.

Heels clicked on the tile floor in front of her stall and someone entered the stall next to her.

Charlotte finished, exited the stall and washed her hands at the sinks. The stall door behind her opened and slammed shut as heels clicked behind her.

“It’s you!”

Charlotte stopped rinsing the soap from her hands to stare at the other woman in the mirror. She couldn’t form words. Everything Jack had said about her having a doppelgänger was true.

The woman stood beside her in front of the sink, her concentration clearly on Charlotte’s reflection. They had the same mouth, identical noses, even a similar hair color and style.

But it was the eyes that got Charlotte. She was staring back at the same eyes that she’d seen in the mirror for the past twenty-nine years.

CHAPTER THREE

ALLIE COULDN’T STOP staring at the other woman in the mirror as she finished washing her hands. She finally swallowed and formed words. “You must be Charlotte.” Allie reached for a paper towel from the pile on the counter.

The woman’s eyes grew round and her lips trembled. “You know my name?”

Allie smiled, unable to comprehend their resemblance. “I was just dancing with your date. He told me your name.”

“You danced with Jack?”

Allie quickly said, “Don’t worry, he thought I was you at first.”

“No, don’t misunderstand.” Charlotte’s hands shook when she reached for a paper towel without breaking eye contact. “Jack and I are friends. He’s been trying to find you since he first ran into you. We thought you’d left.”

“I’ve been running around all day. I’m the sister of the groom. Do you want to sit for a minute? This is all so unbelievable.” Allie gestured to the lounge area of the ladies’ room. She was at a loss for words until she realized she hadn’t introduced herself. “I’m Allie Miller.”

Charlotte took a seat on the sofa. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Allie. “I’m very glad to meet you, Allie. This is definitely unreal.”

Allie smiled. “Isn’t it?” She sat in the chair that was at a ninety-degree angle to the sofa. “I can’t get over how much we look alike.”

“I was adopted as an infant, so I’ve never seen anyone who looks even slightly like me.”

“Me, either,” Allie said. “I was adopted, too.”

“You were! Do you think we’re related?” Charlotte shook her head. “What am I saying? I mean, we must be related. This is too crazy.”

Allie nodded her head. “There’s obviously some connection between us. People weren’t lying when they said we look alike.”

“I should go find Jack,” Charlotte said. “If that’s okay with you. He’s pretty invested in finding out our connection. Besides, I’ve been gone quite a while.” She explained her unsuccessful expedition to find another bathroom on the lower level of the building. “Man, my shoes are killing me.” She reached down to adjust the strap over her pinkie toe.

Allie laughed. “Yeah, I gathered from our conversation that he has as many questions as we do. Not that any of us have any answers. Wait—” she bent down to unbuckle one of her shoes and then the other “—go ahead.” She looked up at Charlotte. “We’ll both take off these painful things.”

Charlotte laughed and did the same. “Ohhh, that feels so good!”

“Oh, yeah!” Allie hadn’t realized how much her feet hurt until she removed her shoes. “I can see how people thought we were the same person. Our clothes and even our hairstyles are nearly identical.”

Charlotte touched her hair. “I don’t usually curl mine, but I decided to since this was a special occasion. Even our feet look the same. Size 8?”

“Exactly.” Shoes in one hand, Allie held the door for Charlotte to leave first. Charlotte toasted her with her own shoes as she passed, and Allie noticed they were the same height, too. She had to give Jack credit. Their dress color was very similar. At least until they were right next to each other.

Allie and Charlotte kept glancing at each other as they walked down the hall to where Jack sat with his drink. The looks from the few people they passed were hysterical. Even some open mouths and gasps.

Jack stood as soon as he saw them coming, a wide grin on his delicious mouth. At least Allie was pretty sure it was delicious. Her tongue wet her bottom lip.

She glanced at Charlotte, wondering if she’d ever kissed Jack. They both claimed to be merely friends, but were they friends with benefits?

She shoved her thought aside. She barely knew the man. Besides, she’d sworn off men for good.

Though she couldn’t deny the instant connection she and Jack had made.

The seating area was comprised of two matching Louis XIV chairs across from a straight-backed sofa, and an ornate black and gold-leaf coffee table that sat in the middle. Charlotte took the chair next to Jack’s, and Allie sat across from them on the sofa. Perfect spot to view this exact replica of herself. She perched on the edge of her seat, anxious to figure out this mystery.

“Tell me—”

“—about yourself.”

The two women laughed when they asked the same thing at the same time.

Jack looked from one to the other. “You’re speaking in stereo. This is really strange.”

Allie said, “You can say that again.”

Charlotte wiggled in her chair.

“What do you know about your adoption?” Allie’s heart was beating furiously.

“Nothing, actually. Yet. I only started thinking about searching for my birth parents a few days ago.” Charlotte told Allie about losing her adoptive mother to cancer and wanting to know her medical history. “My mom was older when she adopted me, in her early forties. She never married, so it was only the two of us.”

Allie saw the sadness in her eyes. “You must miss her terribly.”

“I do.” Charlotte brushed at a tear that escaped from her watery eyes. “Sorry.” Jack patted Charlotte’s arm, and she smiled wanly as she spoke to Allie. “Jack’s doing his best to cheer me up, but I do miss her every day.”

He put an arm around Charlotte’s shoulders and squeezed. Allie approved of how good a friend it seemed he was being to Charlotte.

“What do you know about your adoption?” Charlotte brushed away another tear. “Sorry. It’s still tough talking about my mom.” She sniffed.

“I’ve never looked into my adoption,” Allie said. “My mother doesn’t like to talk about it. When I was younger and asked questions, she’d say, ‘All you need to know is that we chose you and we love you.’ By the time I was an adult, I didn’t feel the need to find my biological parents. Maybe in part because I already had more family than most people.”

“Then you don’t know any more than I do.” Charlotte dabbed at a lone tear on her cheek. “You said you had a big family? Tell me about them.”

Allie smiled. “I’ve got the opposite situation from you. I’m one of five adopted children.”

Charlotte’s eyes grew round.

“My parents lost their only biological child to a rare but fatal genetic disorder that they both carry. He was only a few weeks old when he died. Instead of trying again, they opted for adoption. That’s where I came in. I was their first.” Allie brushed at a lock of hair tickling her cheek. “Shortly before I started kindergarten, they adopted a brother-and-sister pair from China. They were one and three when they came to live with us. Scott—the groom—is my brother.” She looked at Jack. “And you met my sister, Rachael. They were both born with heart abnormalities and were sent to an orphanage so their parents could have a perfect child. Little did they know, a few surgeries later and their children were as good as new.”

“So you have four younger siblings?” Charlotte asked.

“Not exactly. I was the oldest until I turned nine. That’s when my parents adopted my older brothers, Grigory and Nikolay, from Russia. They were also biological brothers. Gregory and Nicholas—Greg and Nick—came here when they were twelve and ten.”

“So you’re the middle child of five?” Charlotte’s eyes—an exact replica of Allie’s—widened.

Allie forced a smile. “That’s right. I’m sure there are hundreds of psychologists out there who would like to study me. ‘Oldest child becomes middle child. Where does this adoptee fit?’”

“At least you can joke about it,” Jack said.

Allie shrugged. “Not always.”

He seemed to be considering her response before he said, “You two are obviously related. Let’s get down to the pertinent stuff. When and where were you born?” He looked to Charlotte first.

“I was born on April 17—”

“1986?” As soon as Allie heard the month and day, she knew the year would be the same.

“Yes!” Charlotte said excitedly. “You, too?”

Allie nodded vigorously, but her excitement wouldn’t allow her to speak for a few seconds. “I was born right here in Rhode Island, but I’m not sure where.”

Jack asked Charlotte, “You were born in Rhode Island, also?”

She shook her head, her confusion evident by her pursed lips. “No. I was born in upstate New York.”

* * *

“HOW CAN THAT BE?” Jack verbalized the question that had to be on all of their minds. “You look so much alike, you sound alike and you were born on the same day. But in different states?”

Jack had been sure from their birthdays that they were twins. But now he didn’t know what to think.

“Coincidence?” Charlotte suggested.

“It’s more than coincidence,” Allie said. “We’re obviously related. Now we need to figure out how we’re related.”

“Maybe we’re cousins?”

“That’s a possibility, but it seems unlikely. Siblings giving birth on the same day in different states... Anyway, I don’t think we’d look this much alike if we were cousins unless both our birth mothers and fathers were twins.”

“Wouldn’t that make you genetic twins?” Jack asked.

“I think you’re right,” Allie said. “But what are the chances that both sets of parents would put us up for adoption? There must be more to it.” She stuck out her hand, palm down, and said to Charlotte, “Put your hand out next to mine.”

As soon as Charlotte did, the resemblance was remarkable. Just like their matching feet.

“You can’t argue with proof like that,” Allie said, “but only a DNA test will tell us for sure.” The other two nodded their agreement. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight.”

“What about your mom?” Jack suggested. “We could ask her some questions and see if she can fill in the blanks.”

Allie shook her head. “I’d rather keep her out of this, at least for tonight. She had pretty bad bronchitis six weeks ago, and between that and the wedding prep, she hasn’t quite regained her strength. Besides, she should just be allowed to enjoy the rest of her son’s wedding day.”

“Of course,” Charlotte said. “And it is getting late.”

Allie jumped up from the sofa. “You’re right. I didn’t realize how late it was. I need to help pack up. Mom’s probably looking for me. Let’s exchange information,” she said to Charlotte, “and we can get together soon.”

Charlotte and Jack stood up, too. “We can help,” Jack said.

“Yes,” Charlotte agreed. “Tell us what needs to be done.”

“Oh, wow, thanks, but I’m sure we’re fine. Huge family and all.”

“I understand completely,” Charlotte said, and Jack nodded his agreement. Allie must really want to keep her mom from seeing Charlotte.

Charlotte retrieved her cell phone from her silver clutch. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you so you have mine.”

“Good idea. I left mine in the car.” Allie recited the number.

Jack was trying to be cool. He could get Allie’s phone number from Charlotte, he supposed. He really wanted to see her again, but she was in the middle of some big family stuff with the wedding and now meeting Charlotte.

And he didn’t want to appear overeager.

“Where are you staying in town?” Jack asked Allie, trying to play it casual.

She named a popular downtown hotel. “I’ll be checking out in the morning.”

“Where do you live?” Charlotte asked before Jack could. “We never talked about that.”

“In Providence,” Allie said.

“Oh, good!” Charlotte was giddy with excitement. “I was afraid you flew in from halfway across the country. Jack and I both live here in Newport.”

“My office is in Providence,” Jack said, pleasantly surprised. “We should get together, maybe grab coffee or lunch this week.” He made the suggestion before thinking it through. Cool, Jack. Real cool.

Allie smiled, and he took that as a good sign. “I’d like that.”

Me, too, he mouthed.

Jack glanced at Charlotte and saw her satisfied grin—she’d obviously not missed his exchange with Allie. “You ready?” he asked Charlotte.

At her nod, he stepped back so the two women could say their goodbyes.

* * *

CHARLOTTE’S MIND WAS RACING as she sat in the passenger seat of Jack’s car on the way home. Amazing! There was someone else in the world whom she must be related to. She wasn’t sure yet how, but they’d soon find out. She was positive they were connected.

“You’re pretty quiet,” Jack said as they drove up Bellevue Avenue. “Are you okay? In shock, perhaps?”

Charlotte turned toward him and grinned. “I’m better than okay.” She was definitely more excited than she’d been in a while. “I’m really glad you asked me to come to the wedding with you.”

“I’m glad, too.” He gave her arm a pat. “Talk about a coincidental meeting.”

“I know. I’m not sure how Allie and I would ever have met otherwise.”

“And she lives so close,” Jack said. “It didn’t hit me until I asked where she was staying that she could have come in for the wedding from anywhere.”

“I’m sure that makes you very happy, too,” Charlotte teased.

“Of course it does. Now you two will be able to get together.”

“Uh-huh.”

He glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the road. “What does that mean?”

She smirked, but it was too dark in the car for Jack to see her. “It means I’m not blind. I saw how attracted you are to her.”

The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Do you have a problem with that?”

She chuckled. “I think it’s great.” She paused a few seconds. “We are just friends, right? Nothing romantic going on?”

“Of course. I don’t mean that to sound harsh, but even I’m a little confused. You and I are friends, and I never considered you anything more.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“That wasn’t meant as an insult,” he said quickly. “I value friendship, probably more than any romantic stuff I’ve ever been involved in. So if I see you as my friend, then take that as the compliment it is.”

“Got it. Are you considering Allie as another friend?” She already knew the answer.

“Maybe.”

“Hah!” She was enjoying making him squirm.

“Okay, I’m attracted to her. A lot.” He stopped at a red light and looked at Charlotte. “I don’t get it. She looks almost identical to you, so why am I attracted to her and not you?”

“Again, gee, thanks.” Then she laughed because she really was teasing. “Good thing I’m not attracted to you, either, friend.” And that was the honest truth. She sobered and asked the question she’d wanted to ask for a while now. “Why are you so afraid of getting into a relationship, Jack?”

“With you?” His tone was teasing, but his resistance to answering honestly was blatant.

“No. And I don’t mean to pry. It just seems like you have a successful job, a newly renovated house. You’re what, early thirties?”

“Thirty-two.”

“So what’s keeping you from settling down? Not necessarily married, but in a committed relationship?”

“Simple. It’s an allergy.”

Charlotte laughed. “Allergy?”

“I’m allergic to relationships. I inherited it from my father.”

“He never settled down, either?”

“Just the opposite,” Jack told her. “He settled down over and over and over again.”

“And that’s what caused your allergy to commitment?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I think that’s ridiculous. We’ll have to work on that. Give me your cell phone.”

He pulled it from his pants pocket and gave it to her. “What are you doing?”

She took out her own phone, too. “I’m programming Allie’s phone number into your phone so you have no excuse for not calling her. In fact, I think you should call her as soon as we get home so you can make it clear that you and I are no more than friends.”

* * *

IT WAS WELL after midnight when Allie finally collapsed, fully clothed, on her hotel bed.

“What a day,” she said aloud to the ceiling, wiggling her bare toes to bring back the circulation.

She heard a noise that sounded like her cell phone vibrating from under the pile of things she had brought in from her car. She hauled herself up off the bed, hoping it wasn’t someone asking her to do something. Her energy was depleted.

She finally dug her phone from the bottom of a reusable tote bag where she’d put her shoes, makeup bag and anything else she’d thought she might need during the day while away from the hotel.

The phone number was unfamiliar. She opened the message, and a warmth went through her as she read it.

This is Jack. Got your number from Charlotte. Hope that’s okay. Hope to talk to you soon.

She immediately wrote back, careful not to sound too eager. After all, she was off men.

Of course it’s ok. Nice to meet you.

She hesitated before hitting Send. “Nice to meet you?” she said out loud. “How formal.” She erased it and tried again.

Of course it’s ok. Call me anytime.

Again, she hesitated. Now she sounded desperate. Or at least easy. She deleted it and considered what to say.

Maybe she should ignore his text until tomorrow morning. Pretend she was asleep when it came in.

No. She really wanted him to know she felt something with him, without actually telling him that. Even though she really was off men.

She took another approach. She texted Charlotte.

Hope this didn’t wake you. It’s Allie. I need advice. Jack texted me. I want to answer, but don’t want him to get the wrong idea.

She only waited a minute or two before Charlotte replied.

It’s obvious you like each other. Why play hard-to-get?

Charlotte had no idea about Allie’s poor decisions when it came to men. She typed quickly.

I’ve made wrong choices before. Don’t want to repeat mistakes.

Charlotte wrote back.

Give him a chance. He’s been a good friend to me.

Allie considered that. She had seen firsthand how comforting Jack had been to Charlotte in the short time she’d known him.

But she barely knew Charlotte. How could she know how good the woman was at judging character? Should she take Charlotte at her word that Jack was a good guy? She looked exactly like Allie, but what if she was also as bad at judging people as Allie was?

She wrote back to Charlotte.

Thanks. Will think about it. Talk to you soon.

Charlotte replied.

Looking forward to it. Call or text me tomorrow after your family stuff. You could come over to my house so we can talk more.

Allie thought about how much work she still had to do. She really needed to drive back to Providence, but getting to know Charlotte better had become a top priority.

Sounds good. I do have to get work done before Monday morning, so I can’t stay too long.

Charlotte wrote back.

I’ll search through my mom’s files to see if I can find anything about my adoption before you get here. Can’t wait.

Allie smiled. Me, neither.

She went back to Jack’s message and hit Reply.

I’m glad she gave you my number. Hope to talk to you soon.

She hit Send and felt a rush of adrenaline. This could be a huge mistake.

She stripped out of her dress and underwear before heading to the bathroom, where she’d left her nightshirt hanging on the back of the door. She slipped it on, brushed her teeth, washed her face and applied moisturizer.

When she came out of the bathroom, there was a voice mail message on her phone. She must not have heard the phone ring over the water running.

She smiled as she listened to Jack’s message.

“Hey, you said you hoped to talk soon, so here I am.” He paused. “Guess you must be sleeping by now or maybe don’t want to talk this late. I wanted to say good-night.” He paused again. “So good night.”

She shook her head, both amused and touched. Damn, he’s good.

As much as she desperately wanted to call him back, she resisted.

After all, she was off men.

* * *

EARLY THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Charlotte was on a mission. She diligently went through box after box after box of her mother’s papers. She’d repeatedly put off the task, but now that she’d met Allie, Charlotte had a driving force behind her.

When she’d cleaned out her mother’s house to sell it after her death, Charlotte hadn’t taken the time to go through everything. Instead, she’d packed the papers into plastic boxes with lids. Now she regretted not sorting through them earlier. Mom had been a saver. She had receipts and old bank statements from over three decades ago, but nothing yet that pertained to Charlotte’s adoption.

She’d like to take a good look at her birth certificate, but she had it locked in her safe-deposit box at the bank, which was closed on Sunday afternoons. She hadn’t used it in years.

Her phone went off, announcing a text message. She put down the pile of papers she was sorting and grabbed it. Allie.

I’ll be there in a few minutes if that’s still ok.

Charlotte replied.

Can’t wait. See you soon.

She’d texted her address to Allie last night. She’d been hoping that she’d have found something by now to help them make sense of the information they had about their adoptions—which was little to nothing.

Charlotte went to the kitchen to wash up, feeling gritty after handling all the dusty papers.

By the time she stepped out onto her porch, Allie was parking her car.

“Hi,” Charlotte said with a wave, trying to control her excitement.

Allie grinned back and waved. “Hi, Charlotte!” As she got closer to the porch, she commented, “Great house!”

Charlotte appreciated the compliment. “Thanks! I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.”

“How long have you been here?” Allie asked as she ascended the porch steps and the two women hugged.

“Since last fall, a few months after my mom died. I had given up the apartment I’d been renting and moved in with her to take care of her while she was sick. When she passed away, I sold her house because I couldn’t bear to be in it without her, surrounded by so many memories.” She opened the front door and stepped inside. “Come on in. I’ll give you a tour if you’d like.”

Allie’s eyes widened. “I’d love it. These older homes have so much character.”

“Character,” Charlotte repeated. “Yeah, that’s a nice way to put it. More like repairs when you’re least expecting them.”

They laughed as they went through the living room and into the dining room, then on into the kitchen. “There’s a full bath in there,” Charlotte said, pointing to the doorway in the dining room. “There’s a shed in the small backyard, and I’m trying to grow a few vegetables in a garden, but nothing else exciting out there. Let’s go upstairs.”

The narrow staircase was on the side wall of the dining room, and Charlotte told Allie about the house’s history as they went up to the second floor. “The house was built in 1900, and the hardwood floors are original. In the eighties, the owners made some improvements, but I’ve been told they didn’t keep with the history of the house. In 2005, the home was sold. Thankfully, the new owners returned it to its turn-of-the-century feel by uncovering the brick wall on the far end of the house and installing more appropriate plumbing fixtures.”

They reached a small hallway. “Straight ahead is the guest room,” Charlotte said, and then led the way through another doorway. “In here is where I have my studio set up.”

Allie entered the room. “I love this! The light is wonderful in here.”

There were large windows at eye level, as well as a gorgeous window near the ceiling that ran the length of the wall and had amazing scrollwork. “That window up there and the skylight were what sold me on the house.”

“I should’ve asked you what you do, but you’re obviously an artist,” Allie said, looking around at the supplies and paraphernalia Charlotte had neatly arranged. She’d spent more time organizing in here than going through her mother’s old files. “Is it for fun, or is this how you make your living?”

“I’m lucky enough to be able to support myself with my art,” Charlotte said. “I’ve had several shows in the past few years, but not many since my mom got sick. Most of my sales right now are over the internet. My dream is to open a brick-and-mortar gallery.”

“Newport is a great place for that.”

“That’s actually why I decided to move here from Vermont. Newport’s also close enough to New York City and Boston to be able to have shows in those cities.”

“This is wonderful,” Allie said of a depiction of some historic Newport doorways done in pastels, hung above a shelving unit.

“Thank you. I did that about two years ago when I came here to paint some of the historic buildings. That’s when I fell in love with the town.” About a year prior to her mother’s diagnosis.

Allie pointed to a door on the far wall. “Is your bedroom through there?”

“Yes. Kind of an odd setup having to go through this room to get to that room. That’s why I chose the other bedroom for guests.” Not that she’d had any visitors except her college roommate coming through town a few weeks ago. “You said you have work to do today. What do you do?”

“I’m in advertising,” Allie said. “I recently started my own agency, and I’m hoping to land a large account tomorrow. My presentation is close to being done, but it’s not quite there.”

“How exciting. Somehow I’m not surprised that we are both entrepreneurs.”

“With a creative side, too,” Allie added. “I’m not nearly as good as you, but I do a lot of freehand drawing in my line of work, as well as animation.”

“Wow, that’s another thing we have in common. Come on.” Charlotte waved her hand. “Let’s go downstairs and see what else we can learn about each other.”

* * *

WHEN THEY WERE seated in Charlotte’s inviting living room, sipping cold drinks, Charlotte asked, “How was your family brunch?”

Allie rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say I’m glad this weekend is almost over.”

Charlotte laughed. “That bad?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I’m honestly not into the whole wedding and marriage thing, but my mother lives for those occasions.” Does she ever.

“Did you tell her about me?” Charlotte asked.

Allie shook her head. “No. Though I did make sure I was seated next to her so I could casually ask about my adoption, but she kept changing the subject. I can’t help feeling she’s not telling me something.”

“Sounds like it,” Charlotte agreed. Her mouth twisted. “I didn’t have any better luck looking through my mother’s things.”

They talked for quite a while about everything they could think of—their childhoods, their hobbies, their likes and dislikes.

“Oh!” Allie jumped up from her seat when the mantel clock chimed. “It’s five o’clock. I didn’t know it was so late. I better get going.”

“I didn’t, either.” Charlotte got up and walked Allie out to the porch. “Call me tomorrow to let me know how your presentation went.”

Allie nodded. “I will. And I’ll see if I can figure out how we go about getting a DNA test done.”

“The sooner the better.”

Allie waved and got into her car. She watched Charlotte pull a dead leaf from a hanging flowering plant on her porch before going inside her house.

Allie turned on the engine and was about to pull out of her parking spot when she saw Jack crossing the street. He was in khaki shorts and a T-shirt. His hair was damp, as if he’d just showered. She lowered her window.

“Hey,” he said when he got close. He smelled delicious. Fresh and clean.

“Hey,” she replied in like fashion. “You live right there?”

His smile warmed her insides.

“Yep,” he said. “Did you have a good visit with Charlotte?”

“I did.” She smiled back. “I’m on my way home. Work to finish for tomorrow.”

He nodded. “You said you live in Providence? Do you work there, too?”

“I do.” She named the office building where her firm was located.

“That’s about two blocks from my office. We should meet for coffee or lunch tomorrow.”

Before Allie left for home, they made plans to meet for coffee at 2:00 p.m. at a café they both frequented. Allie was surprised she’d never run into him before. Although she probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance since she was off men.

Correction: she definitely would have given him more than a glance or two, but she would have reminded herself about her promise to not engage.

Yet here she was, making plans for a coffee date with Jack.

Go figure.

CHAPTER FOUR

JACK WAS UP early the next morning after a late night of prep for his ten o’clock meeting. Fighting the morning traffic from Newport to Providence made his trip a few minutes longer than expected, but it gave him more time to anticipate coffee with Allie.

What was it about her that made him feel different than he did about Charlotte? Physically, they were so much alike. Until he heard they were born in different states, he would have sworn they were identical twins. Perhaps they were sisters with the same father, different mother. Or at least cousins. The central question remained: Why was he attracted to one and not the other?

And, man, was he hot for Allie. His body reacted just at the thought of her. He shifted in his seat as much as his seat belt allowed.

His cell phone played a piano riff from the center console, announcing an incoming call. He hit the button on his hands-free device. “Jack Fletcher.”

“Good morning, Jack,” the female caller said. “This is Monica Everly.”

He recognized the deep, gravelly voice of his potential client. “How are you, Ms. Everly?” The fiftysomething woman had started her successful organic and sustainable farm-animal food company a decade ago and was now looking to broaden her scope by introducing organic dog and cat food.

Jack was determined that he would be the one to make her expansion from farms into people’s homes successful.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to postpone our meeting this morning. I’ve got a family emergency.”

“Emergency? I hope it’s nothing too serious.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Ms. Everly said in her no-nonsense manner. “I’m on my way to the vet with our Daisy. She was up all night with a cough. I hope she didn’t pick up that nasty kennel cough from the groomer’s last weekend.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope she feels better soon.”

Jack had been introduced to Daisy, a sixty-pound rescue mutt with no manners, when he first met with her owner about moving the company forward into new markets. Ms. Everly claimed their current advertising agency wasn’t taking her future seriously. Daisy had her own space in Ms. Everly’s office, including a bed, water and food bowls and a basket of toys.

“After I know what’s going on with Daisy, we can reschedule your presentation.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Jack said. “I hope all goes well.”

Ms. Everly disconnected in silence.

Jack was beyond disappointed. The firm put all their efforts into securing this account, and they couldn’t afford a delay.

He was close to his office when the piano riff on his cell phone sounded again. He pushed the button to connect. “Jack Fletcher.”

“Jack, my boy, just checking in.” His grandfather sounded more robust than he had on Saturday morning. “Is your presentation up to snuff?”

Jack proceeded to tell him about the meeting being postponed because of the dog.

“The dog?” Granddad practically shouted into the phone. “Damn! We need that account now.”

Nothing Jack hadn’t heard before. His grandfather had been pressuring Jack constantly about luring the client to their firm. His grandfather repeatedly reminded Jack that the fate of the company rested on his shoulders, and Ms. Everly’s business was their best hope.

“Did you reschedule?”

“Not yet. She wants to hear the vet’s diagnosis first.”

“I want you to come to the hospital,” his grandfather said. “We can go over your presentation and decide how to handle this delay.”

“I really need—”

“I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Granddad disconnected with no further discussion.

The hospital wasn’t too far from the office. Jack called his assistant to update her as he entered the hospital garage and then found a parking space.

“I’m here to see Patrick Fletcher,” Jack said to the woman behind a large desk in the bustling lobby of the hospital.

Her fingers clicked on the keyboard while she watched her monitor. “Room 317.” She handed him a visitor badge and said, “The elevators are down that hall and around the corner to the right. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks. You, too.” He clipped the badge to his dress-shirt breast pocket. Then he headed to the bank of elevators.

According to the sign when he got out on the third floor, his grandfather’s room was to the right. When Jack had visited him before the wedding on Saturday, Granddad had been transferred to ICU as a precaution. Yesterday he had been moved back to this floor, but to a different room than before.

“Hey, Granddad,” Jack greeted him as he knocked on the doorframe of his open door.

The older man was sitting up, the head of his bed raised. He set aside the newspaper he’d been reading. “Hello, my boy. Come on in and tell me more about the animal lady.”

Jack leaned in to hug him, glad to see his color improved. “Not until you tell me how you’re feeling.” Jack hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him when they spoke on the phone. “You’re looking much better than you did Saturday morning.”

“Good enough to go home, but they won’t let me.” He went on to tell Jack about the medical tests his doctor still wanted to do. “Besides having low blood sugar the other day, he’s still worried about my heart.”

Jack moved the lone vinyl chair closer to the hospital bed. “Better to be sure you’re okay.” His grandfather lived alone in a high-rise, even though Jack had been trying to get the seventy-nine-year-old to move into a senior assisted-living facility.

“Yeah, yeah,” Granddad mumbled and then changed the subject. “You feel good about the presentation? You know we must get this account.”

Jack was intensely aware of the pressure he was under, even if his grandfather didn’t remind him constantly. The past few years had been rough ones for Empire Advertising, and his grandfather was counting on Jack to rescue it.

Back when Granddad founded the company—thirteen years before Jack was born—he’d snagged several accounts that grew substantially. They included the company whose duck-shaped cookies became a top snack item for the under-ten set, and a juice company that saw their market share quadruple when they began mixing vegetables into their fruit juices.

Unfortunately, over the past decade, many of the CEOs of the large firms that had been the lifeblood of Empire had retired. In turn, their younger counterparts, looking for a fresher approach, sent their advertising dollars to the younger, hipper ad agencies.

From the time Jack graduated from college ten years ago, his grandfather had pressed him to come and work for Empire. Instead, Jack had stuck to his plan to work for one of those hipper agencies based in New York City. Two years ago, Granddad had finally talked Jack into coming onboard by admitting that Empire couldn’t last much longer without help. That’s also when his grandfather told Jack he’d inherit the company someday. So if Jack wanted the security of his own firm, then he’d have to work for it.

After spending a few more minutes talking strategy with his grandfather, Jack checked the time. “I’d better get into the office. I’ll call you later to see what your doctor says.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Granddad said. “You get that crazy dog woman to give you her advertising money.”

Jack couldn’t help cracking a smile. His grandfather never minced words. He used to have a filter when necessary, but over the past few months that filter had become almost nonexistent.

He hugged his grandfather and left the hospital. He wondered if he’d be able to get any work done before meeting Allie, since he couldn’t seem to get her out of his head.

* * *

ALLIE WAS HAVING a heck of a morning.

Just when she finally thought she had her act together, she found out her eleven o’clock meeting was canceled. So much for the presentation she was up until 2:00 a.m. working on.

So much for the zipper on her skirt that finally got unstuck from her blouse.

And so much for the cold shower she had to take this morning because of the broken water heater in her apartment building.

She sat at her desk in her rented office space and stared at her computer. She was eager to figure out how she and Charlotte could get a DNA test done, but that research would have to wait. Right now she needed to get down to business and find more clients so she could afford to get out of this place and into a real office. Making cold calls was one of her least favorite things. She was the idea person. Give her a product and she’d come up with a gimmick. Preferably one that she could animate.

With no funds to fall back on, Allie couldn’t afford to rent more than the one office she currently occupied. It came with the use of a conference room and a receptionist, both of which were shared by seven other small offices. What was lacking was any sense of style or warmth.

It was a far cry from the office she used to work in. DP Advertising was located in one of the most prestigious buildings in Providence. When she worked for them, Allie had a plush office overlooking the city. There she led a team of talented and creative people with loads of energy. Unfortunately, the team included Jimmy, her ex-boyfriend who’d recently landed in federal prison.

Her phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. “Allie Miller.” She wasn’t used to having anyone call her—most of her communication was done through texts or emails. She hoped this was good news. She could use some.

“Hello, Ms. Miller. This is Joan Broadwell from the Rhode Island Animal Rescue League.”

Allie had forgotten about the application she’d filled out online. “Yes, Ms. Broadwell. It’s good to hear from you.”

“I’ve been looking over your fostering application and have contacted your references. I’m happy to say that you’ve been approved. We should have a dog for you to foster in the next few days.”

“That’s wonderful.” Allie tried to sound excited, but she was faking it. It wasn’t that she disliked dogs. She was simply indifferent to animals of all kinds. She saw no need to have them as pets. The only reason she applied to foster a dog was to impress her potential client. As soon as she landed the account, Allie would return the dog and tell the Rescue League that being a foster parent—or whatever they called it—wasn’t working out for her.

She’d hoped to get the dog before her presentation so she could bring it with her. In the end, having her appointment with the client delayed had worked in her favor.

The woman who owned Naturally Healthy Animal Food brought her own dog to her office. And it was actually because the dog—named Tulip or Rosebud or some such thing—had caught something called kennel cough that their meeting this morning had been canceled.

“Now, you do realize that since you live in an apartment, we can’t give you a dog larger than about twenty-five pounds.”

“Yes, I understand.” She didn’t need a big dog like Daisy—that was the dog’s name. But Daisy wasn’t anything close to a delicate flower, as she had proved when she jumped up on Allie, practically knocking her over.

They finished their conversation and disconnected. Not two minutes later, the phone rang again.

“Allie Miller.”

“Oh, Ms. Miller, this is Joan Broadwell again. Great news! We have a dog that we think will work perfectly for you.” She went on to explain that one of their other foster parents had to go out of town unexpectedly for an extended time and could no longer care for the Jack Russell terrier–beagle mix he’d been fostering for a few weeks. “When do you think you can pick up Harvey?”

Allie hit a key on her keyboard to display her calendar. Blank. The rest of the day was open except for coffee with Jack at two.

“I can come anytime after three,” she said. Jack probably couldn’t take more than an hour off from his job, whatever that might be. Surprisingly, that particular subject hadn’t come up.

As soon as she hung up, she searched online to find out what a Jack Russell terrier looked like so she wouldn’t look stupid and inexperienced when she picked up the dog. The beagle part was easy. Isn’t that what Snoopy from the Peanuts comic strip was?

She was about to become a first-time pet owner. Wow. How weird did that sound? Almost stranger than saying she was Harvey’s foster mom.

* * *

CHARLOTTE WAS DUSTY and dirty by the time she brought down the first of many boxes containing her mother’s files that were still in the attic. The plastic tubs felt heavier than she remembered as she carefully made her way down the folding steps to the guest room on the second floor.

She was anxious to continue searching for clues about her adoption, deciding to go through each file meticulously, not putting the boxes back in her attic again. Of course, that would take time, but she didn’t want to miss anything, and she certainly didn’t want to go through them again later.

She’d covered the hardwood floor of her spare bedroom with an old sheet to protect the surface. She hadn’t gotten around to furnishing the room yet, so it was a large empty space. When her college friend had visited several weeks ago, Charlotte had given Joanie her own bed, and Charlotte had slept on an inflatable air mattress in the spare room. She wasn’t expecting more company anytime soon, so using the room to spread out Mom’s papers should work perfectly.

“Bank statements, receipts, tax returns,” she said aloud. “Even her pay stubs from when she worked at a fast-food chain in high school.” Charlotte couldn’t help laughing.

She had to admit that even though her mother might seem like a hoarder to some, the files were definitely meticulously organized.

A thought came to her. Would her mother have had to pay money at the time of Charlotte’s adoption? If so, a receipt of such a transaction might give Charlotte a clue about who her mother had dealt with. She must have at least paid for legal or medical expenses. Charlotte searched the box for records from 1986. Nothing. Wrong box.

She carefully climbed back into the attic to find the right box. The two bare bulbs with pull chains didn’t provide the best light, so she had to bring several boxes down before she found the right one.

With each descent, she checked the box to see if it contained the bank statements from 1986. Finally, on the fourth box, she found them.

Her heart beat wildly.

Like the others she’d found, the 1986 bank statements were in one of the small boxes inside the plastic tub that Charlotte had used in order to ensure nothing was ruined by moisture or heat in her attic.

She pulled out the small box from the plastic tub and sat cross-legged on the floor. For a moment, she simply stared at the container in front of her. What would she discover? Perhaps something life-altering? Maybe nothing at all.

Her hands shook and she laughed at her nervousness as she opened the box to find twelve identical envelopes in chronological order. She began with January, thinking there may have been a payment to someone several months prior to her birth.

She removed the pile of checks, which were in numerical order. There were canceled checks for rent, utilities, groceries, even a check made out to a local family-owned furniture store long out of business. The notation on the check said crib.

Charlotte’s eyes teared up. Her mother had been nesting before bringing her baby home.

A single tear escaped and ran down her cheek. She brushed it away and blinked several times to clear her vision. She studied the bank statement. Nothing unusual. The only deposits were identical checks that Charlotte assumed were from the accounting firm where her mother had worked. One near the beginning of the month and one right after the middle. Direct deposit wasn’t readily available in those days.

She took out the February statement. Nothing looked any different from January, except for a check with a notation of changing table, made out to the same furniture store where her mother had bought the crib.

March was the same, but there were no extra checks written for baby items. Mom must have used her credit card for the other purchases. Charlotte was sure to discover those records eventually.

Finally, April. The month of her birth. She could barely breathe. She carefully opened the envelope. This time she pulled out the bank statement first.

She immediately saw a deposit for thirty thousand dollars. “Where the heck did that come from?” she asked out loud. Her mother’s yearly salary at the time wasn’t much more than that.

Who could have given her that much money? Had she taken out a loan? Charlotte would have to dig through more paperwork from 1986 to find out.

She looked at the statement again and noticed a check for thirty thousand had been written by her mother two days after Charlotte was born.

Who had given or loaned her the money? More importantly, who had she written the check to?

Charlotte quickly pulled the checks from the envelope. Her fingers trembled as she went through each one. Finally she came to the one she was looking for. Thirty thousand dollars, but it was made out to Cash.

She quickly turned it over to see who had endorsed it. Her heart sank. As hard as she studied the signature, she couldn’t decipher the scribble. She couldn’t make out the first letter in either the first or last name. Even worse, the check had been cashed at the same bank as her mother’s account, not deposited, because there wasn’t even an account number along with the signature.

Definitely a dead end.

* * *

ALLIE SPENT NEARLY an hour on the internet, trying to find local businesses that might need assistance with their advertising. She found three prospects to contact, meeting the daily goal she’d set for herself.

Next she went on Twitter and participated in a discussion on branding. She would check later to see if she had any new followers. Other advertising professionals would be good, but finding companies or individuals who were trying to do their own advertising would be ideal. She could assist them in improving their public presence both online and anywhere else that might be beneficial to their individual goals.

Finally, she decided her newly formed company needed a blog. She figured she could find something worthwhile to say at least twice a week, so she started on her first entry. She called it “How a Brand-New Ad Agency Handles Its Own Advertising.” Her website already had a blog page ready to go, so uploading her piece would be simple.

With a draft of her blog entry set aside to review later, she turned her attention to searching for information about getting a DNA test done. Lots of ads came up with the search, but after reading some websites, she had a better understanding of the process.

She picked up the phone and called Charlotte. “Any news on your end?” she asked without preamble. “This is Allie, by the way.”

Charlotte laughed. “I know. You sound like I do when I listen to myself on my voice mail message.”

Allie grinned and paid attention while Charlotte told her about finding the deposit and the check to Cash in her mother’s files.

“That’s a good start, but it brings up a lot more questions.”

“I know. Believe me, I’ve been making a list,” Charlotte told her. “I’m guessing she got a loan for the thirty thousand dollars since it all showed up at once, and as far as I know she had no living relatives, but I haven’t found any documentation. Which is surprising, since she was so organized.”

“Keep looking. You’re sure to find the answers. Maybe she transferred it from a savings account.”

“That’s true. I haven’t come across her savings account records from back then yet,” Charlotte said. “I don’t actually know if the money in and out of her account is even related to my adoption. Just because it occurred two days after I was born, that doesn’t make it conclusive. Maybe she bought a car or a really nice piece of jewelry.” Charlotte paused. “Although she wasn’t the expensive jewelry type.”

“Back then, for that price, that would have been a pretty nice car,” Allie commented. “Do you really think she would have spent that much on a car, or anything for that matter, knowing she’d need money for the baby she was about to adopt?”

“Probably not. You’re right. She never had expensive taste,” Charlotte said. “She was able to pay for my education and left me more than enough money to buy my house—all on her accountant salary.”

“Sweet,” Allie said. “The advantage of being an only child.”

“One of the few.” Charlotte’s voice turned somber.

Allie needed to change the subject before Charlotte’s mood sank lower. “I’ve been checking out DNA testing online,” she said. “It sounds pretty straightforward. You’ve probably seen it done on TV. You swab your cheek and send it off to the lab.”

“How long before we’d get the results?” Good. Charlotte had snapped out of her melancholy.

“That information wasn’t available on the website, so I emailed to ask and also to find out exactly what the results might tell us. If they don’t contact me by tomorrow, I’ll make some phone calls.”

“Sounds good. Anything else going on with you? How did your presentation go?”

“Postponed. The CEO’s dog might have kennel cough. Is that a real thing? I meant to look it up.”

Charlotte laughed. “Yes, it’s a real thing. They give dogs vaccines for it. I would think your animal-food CEO would have had that covered.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Allie checked the time on her computer and realized she had to leave in a few minutes. “Hey, can I call you later? I’m supposed to meet Jack for coffee at two.”

“You are?” Charlotte’s excitement was clear. “Why didn’t you tell me? When did that happen?”

Allie told her that he had come out of his house as she was leaving Charlotte’s the day before. “It’s just coffee. Nothing more.”

“Well, have a good time. He’s really nice, and funny, too.”

“And you’re sure you’re not interested in him?” Allie needed confirmation.

“Absolutely.”

“You don’t have to sound so positive about it,” Allie teased. “You make it seem like there’s something wrong with him. Is he a serial killer? A pervert? Please don’t tell me he has a third nipple or six toes.” She giggled at the thought.

Charlotte laughed, too. “I didn’t mean it that way, but for all I know, he could have webbed feet or something equally as disturbing. I just don’t have feelings for him like that, that’s all.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. You would tell me if there’s something I should know, right?”

“I swear. He’s a good guy. He even seems to be the sole caretaker for his grandfather.”

“That’s a good reference,” Allie said. “Now tell me his faults.”

“I don’t know him well enough to know his intimate secrets, but I should warn you about how he feels on the topics of marriage and commitment.”

Please don’t let him be looking for a wife. Please, please, please.

“Go on.” Allie held her breath.

“He’s commitment-phobic, completely against settling down. I’m not sure exactly why, but I think it has something to do with his dad.”

Allie expelled the breath that was burning her lungs. “Whew! You had me worried. Have I mentioned that I’m off men? Sometime I’ll tell you about my last boyfriend.” Allie closed her laptop and put it into her rolling brief case. “I’m only having coffee with Jack so I can tell him that—that I’m off men.”

“Don’t be so hasty,” Charlotte said quickly. “You never know how things will work out. Besides, you have other things in common, too.”

“Like what?”

“Well, you’re both in the same profession.”

Allie’s heart stopped. “The same profession?

“Yes, he’s in advertising, too. I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned it.” Charlotte laughed. “Wouldn’t it be funny if you two were competitors?”

“Yeah, real funny.” Allie wasn’t laughing, though.

CHAPTER FIVE

JACK LEFT HIS suit jacket and tie in his office and walked the two blocks to the coffee shop to meet Allie. He’d unbuttoned his top shirt button and rolled up his sleeves on the warm, sunny day. He hoped the weather was a favorable forecast of his time with Allie.

Meeting for coffee wasn’t his usual go-to for a first date, if that’s what this could be called. Drinks were more his style, followed by a nice dinner or maybe a club with a great band playing. For some reason, he didn’t quite feel like himself when he was around Allie. Not that it was a bad thing. In fact, he felt pretty good when she was close by.

He reached the large front door of Café Lisbon with its thick glass panel surrounded by a wooden frame with years of worn paint. A bell tinkled as he opened the door and stepped inside.

“Hey, Jack.” The barista greeted him from the cappuccino machine. “What can I get you?” She added a plastic lid to the drink she’d just created and handed it to her customer. Coffee was the main event here, but they also served a small selection of breakfast and lunch items.

“The usual,” Jack answered. “Medium black coffee, dark roast if it’s already made.” He looked over the room of small, round tables with assorted styles of well-worn wooden chairs. There were several people sitting alone at tables either with a laptop or electronic device that they were concentrating on, or they had their noses buried in a newspaper or book. Two women sat chatting quietly at the table by the window, but he didn’t see Allie anywhere.

“Here you go,” the barista answered with the confident smile of a woman who knew she was attractive.

He pulled out his wallet and paid for his coffee. “This is for you.” He gave her a large tip. “And this money is to pay for whatever a certain woman with chin-length, dark hair and piercing blue eyes wants.” He glanced at the front door. “She should be here any minute.” He didn’t know Allie that well, but he had a hunch that she wouldn’t allow him to pay for her coffee unless he caught her off guard.

He took his coffee and chose a seat at a table where he could watch for her. He didn’t have long to wait. Even through the glass, she sucked him in completely. She wore a black blazer and matching skirt with a red blouse that buttoned down the front. Her red high heels were what made her outfit go from office attire to downright sexy.

She went straight to the counter to order without even acknowledging him. Jack couldn’t hear the conversation between her and the barista, but Allie didn’t have a pleased look on her face when she looked over in his direction. Her lips were pinched and her eyes narrowed.

Was she upset that he’d paid for her coffee? It wasn’t that big a deal, was it?

She turned her back to him, dug in her purse and removed her wallet. She gave the barista money and must have told her to keep the change, because the barista dropped money from the cash register into the tip jar. Allie didn’t turn around again until her drink was ready.

She was a vision as she came toward Jack, drink in hand. He stood as she came closer and was about to offer her a friendly hug when he saw the expression on her face go from ticked off to full-blown angry.

“Did you think you could make everything better by paying for my coffee?” She carefully placed her cup on the table and then yanked the chair from under the table before he could pull it out for her. She sat down across from him.

What was she talking about? Make everything better?

“I need more information to go on here,” he said calmly while he lowered himself into his chair. “Why would I need to make things better? Did I do something to offend you?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Did you do something?” She removed the lid from her coffee. “It’s not what you did, it’s what you didn’t do.”

He did a quick scan of his memory to figure out what she was talking about. “I’ve got nothing,” he said. “What didn’t I do?”

“You’re serious?” She obviously didn’t believe him.

“Absolutely.”

“So you thought it was okay to keep your occupation a secret?”

A secret? “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he said slowly. “The subject never came up.” What was the big deal?

“You’re right, the subject never came up. Probably because you already knew what I do for a living.”

“Actually, I don’t. What is it you do?”

She cocked her head and smirked suspiciously. “I’m in advertising.”

He relaxed. “Oh, that’s great. Then we do have a lot in common.” Why would that anger her?

Allie rolled her eyes. “A lot in common? We both had presentations this morning, right? Well, after learning you’re in advertising, it didn’t take me long to figure out that we’re both competing for the Naturally Healthy Animal Food account.”

“Ah!” Now he understood. “I had no idea we were rivals. Honest.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” She spoke loudly and looked around to see if anyone overheard.

“Why would I keep that information from you on purpose?” he asked.

She leaned in and lowered her voice. “To sabotage me. You knew I was going after the account, so you thought you’d blindside me with your charm and good looks. You must think I’m a sucker for a free cup of coffee.”

He blinked. “You really think I’d do that?” Although he did kind of like that she admitted he could throw her off her game. “Charm and good looks, eh?” He couldn’t hide his grin.

“I’ve been through worse.” She blatantly ignored his last comment. “But I just met you. Who knows what you’re capable of?”

A thought came to him. “How do I know you aren’t the one trying to sabotage me? You obviously know more about me than I do about you.”

Her jaw dropped, and she gaped at him. It took her a few seconds to respond. “How could you think I knew we were both competing for the same account?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Although he was pretty sure from her surprised expression that she had no prior knowledge of their rivalry.

She held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, neither of us was aware that we’re competitors. Fine.”

He sighed in relief. “I’m glad you finally believe me. How did you find out what I do, anyway?”

“From Charlotte. She mentioned it when we were talking earlier today.”

He nodded. “Right. Well, I’m at Empire Advertising. My grandfather’s company.”

“How long have you worked there?”

He explained that he’d gone first to New York City and then come back when Empire was in financial trouble. “It didn’t help that the CFO had been embezzling money.”

“Was he or she caught?”

“He,” Jack clarified. “He was caught and brought to justice, but he died before we could get much of our money back.”

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