Page 55 of Changed By You

I look away, unable to finish the sentence.

“The job is yours. In six months or in six years.”

I nod, warming to the idea as it sets in. She’s flawed, but I do love Farrah. Getting to have my own life and still be close with her is something I never dreamed possible.

“So what are you doing until you start narcissist rehab?”

A little snort comes out when she laughs. “You’re going to call it that until we’re old and gray, aren’t you?”

“Definitely.”

“I’m staying at a hotel in downtown Detroit. I fly out early Monday for Bali.”

“Bali?” I give her a wistful look. “I want to go, too.”

“I know. I’ll scope out a spa for us to stay at when I finish. If you can.”

“Well, I’d love for you to meet my family. My mom made lasagna for dinner, which I know you don’t eat, but you’re welcome to come over and...have some water?”

Her smile reaches her eyes, warm and sincere. “I would love to eat your mom’s lasagna. You don’t think Dalton would mind?”

I wave a hand. “Of course not.”

“I’m happy for you. Really, really happy. He better treat you right.”

My fingertips reflexively move over the flower pendant. I still read the letter he wrote me at least once a day. “He does. I’ll have more time on my hands when his hockey season starts, but for now, I’m just enjoying having him all to myself.” I look over at the stairway. “Speaking of Dalton, I’m going to go get him. I’m making an apple pie for tonight, so we can all catch up while I work on it.”

“Great.”

I’m almost all the way up the stairs when the doorbell rings. I jog down a couple of stairs and stop, leaning down to look out the window for a delivery truck.

“You want me to...?” Farrah is standing a few feet in front of the door, looking at me.

“Yeah, thanks.”

She opens the door with a smile. I can’t see who’s on the other side as she says, “Can I help you?”

“I hope so. This is my parents’ house.”

Her jaw drops. “Oh, sorry! Come in. Hi, I’m Farrah.”

My twin walks into the house, a bag slung over his shoulder. At six-three with broad shoulders and a lean waistline, he makes his blue scrubs look good. His dark hair is cut short and he has a couple days’ worth of stubble.

Dalton joins me on the stairway, sliding an arm around my waist.

“Hi Farrah, I’m Will Morrow.”

Farrah shakes his hand, her expression lighting up as they shake hands, seconds ticking by as they stare at each other. Will looks equally mesmerized by her.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” she finally says.

“You, too. If I’d known you were going to be here, I would’ve cleaned up. I came straight from work.”

She smiles up at him, her hand still in his. “No. I think you look...perfect.”

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