Page 6 of Switching Places

Shopping for groceries at eleven o’clock at night had been a novelty, Emma thought. And the way Lily had questioned her on every item had her wondering if Lily expected Emma to do the cooking while she visited.

How odd to know so little about her own twin.

“You’re home earlier than planned, aren’t you?” she asked, trying desperately to remember everything her sister had said about this neighbor.

“Pete’s still over there, but we found the problem right away. They shouldn’t have messed with the basic software. Want me to fix breakfast?”

Emma looked up at that, surprised.

“If you hadn’t come down, I planned to serve you in bed,” he said audaciously, grinning. “If I found your room, that is.”

“I can fix it.”

“Then hop to it, Lil, I’m starving.”

“Inviting yourself over?”

He drained his cup and replaced it on the counter.

“No food at my place. You’d think that new service would provide better for their customers. I don’t think highly of your recommendation. And don’t tell me I need to give them a chance. They had one and blew it. If they can’t handle the job they shouldn’t misrepresent themselves in their advertising. I’ll look for someone else.”

“You might try asking them why they didn’t do what you wanted and give them a chance to explain,” Emma said as she rose and headed for the refrigerator, glad for something to do.

It was obvious the man didn’t plan to leave anytime soon.

He fascinated her. She wanted to learn more about him, but should she continue this charade? Sooner or later he’d discover she wasn’t Lily, and she’d probably feel like a total idiot.

He stared hard at her for a long moment. Finally he nodded and looked away.

“Yes, I guess I could. Not taking umbrage at my opinion about your recommendation?”

Obviously Lily would. Emma shrugged her shoulders and remained silent.

“I want French toast,” he said as he pulled a chair from the table and sat down, rocking back on two legs. “And don’t burn it.”

Did that answer her question about her sister’s cooking? Who burned French toast?

“Have any meat—bacon or ham?” he asked.

Emma scanned the contents of the refrigerator. She remembered Lily buying a package of bacon and found it in the meat drawer. She loved bacon, yet rarely indulged. Her mother prided herself on being a nutrition freak and insisted her children eat only the best, which meant low-fat, low-calorie foods. Emma lived on her own, but still followed many of her mother’s dictates in food. Some habits were hard to break.

But she was on vacation, she reminded herself, time to do things differently. She was three thousand miles from anyone who knew her. Why not?

“What have you been up to lately?” he asked when Emma began to soak the bread in egg batter.

For an instant she froze. It was one thing to play at being her sister when it involved merely wearing her clothes or driving her car. But to convincingly impersonate Lily around her friends would be impossible. And from what she’d seen of her sister since arriving, Lily would laugh at her feeble masquerade.

Yet she wasn’t ready to admit that she was Emma. Smiling, Emma tossed her head and glanced at him over her shoulder with what she hoped would pass as a provocative smile.

“I’ve been busy—shopping, dancing, the usual.”

She hadn’t a clue what her sister did for “the usual,” but maybe he would.

“Want to go out tonight to dinner?” he asked easily. “We can go to that restaurant we tried a few months ago. I won’t be much company, I’m so tired from traveling I can hardly see straight, but I promise to stay awake long enough to eat.”

She hesitated. Not a good idea, spending more time with this man. Sooner or later he was sure to catch on.

“Hot date?” he asked when she didn’t respond.

---