Love in Reality: A Contemporary Romance (The Blackjack Quartet) (32 page)

Lissa smirked. “Of course not.”

“Liss, I intended all along not to win the game.” Libby didn’t have to look for the derision on her sister’s face—she knew she sounded like an idiot.

Lissa made a gesture, as if to brush the million dollars aside—another inconvenient fact. “Back to Rand, okay?”

Deep breath. “Okay, so we’d have these conversations nearly every night. Then he figured out how to be in the Journal Room with me.”

“With you, as in—?”

“As in touching, fondling, kissing, not for long but long enough to know I wanted to do more. We had to be quiet in case the Control Room checked on my mike. I couldn’t take it off,” Libby explained.

“Libby—this is so hot. Stealth sex in the Journal Room. Go on.”

“Okay, that went on for a while, then Sgt. Pepper won the Shark Fight—”

“Who?”

“Oh, Greg. Also known as the Band Geek,” Libby smiled.

“Gotcha. Now your bedroom is yours alone, but how did that help you guys? There were cameras on all the time. I even paid the twenty bucks for Internet access. I watched you sleeping more than once.”

Libby looked up at that. “You did? Why?”

“I missed you.”

Libby couldn’t speak for a moment.

“I missed you too,” Libby whispered. They stared at each other. It had been nine months since they’d been roommates. This was the longest they’d gone without sharing a home. And they’d never live together again, Libby realized. “You’ll always be my best friend, though, right?”

“Damn straight,” Lissa said firmly. “Now, stop crying and get back to the good part. I want deets on the sex.”

Libby sniffled into the tissue she’d pulled from her pocket—much more of this and she’d need to get the box from the bathroom. “Well, the point of Greg’s absence was that Rand was able to sneak me out of
The Fishbowl
. All the way out, for hours at a time.”

“For real?” Lissa breathed. “How come no one noticed you were AWOL?”

“Some friend of his works on the bodies that get cut up on CSI, so they made an animatronic doll to put in the bed in my place.”

“Get out!” Lissa looked impressed. “And that worked?”

“Twice. As far as I know, no one figured it out. Half the crew hates Marcy—she’s the executive producer—and the other half is loyal to the first half. There are only a handful of people on set who’d have ratted Rand out. And we know it didn’t happen because—well, he still has his job.”

“Yeah, about that—how come you’re in detention, Lib? How did they figure out you weren’t me?”

“I confessed. I never thought I’d get this far, and when they kicked Kai off, that was just wrong. It was like a slap in the face. I’d been counting on getting fished out yesterday, and when it didn’t happen, I had to do something. So I confessed. Not about Rand, just about being the law student twin.”

“Uh, okay. That was gutsy.” Lissa nodded in awe. “Did you get into trouble?”

Libby grinned. “Nope.”

“Okay, I know that look. That’s my look when I’ve fooled even Dad. What did you do?”

“I channeled Uncle Jack.”

Lissa’s jaw dropped. “You went US Attorney on them?”

“Uh-hunh. Marcy was all ready to sic their Legal Department on me—breach of contract, fraud, etc. I explained to her that I’d signed all the paperwork as myself and they had a background report that put them on notice I was in law school. So they were estopped—legally prevented—from complaining. Case closed.”

“I’m guessing she wasn’t happy.”

“Ah, but that’s where I was most like Uncle Jack. I showed her how this was going to be a ratings bonanza for her. That’s why you’re here.”

Lissa nodded. “Ah—the big reveal of the twin swap on national TV. Got it. Okay. So where are you and Rand at this point? Lovey-dovey or done?”

Libby leaned her head back against the chair. “That’s just it. I have no idea. He called me, but he wasn’t alone and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. I lied to him all through this thing, Liss. I had countless opportunities to tell him who I was, and I kept letting him think I was you.”

“But he doesn’t know me. What does he care what name you use. You’re still you.”

Libby felt her skin crawl. Here was the murkiness, the moral gray area. “I was more like you than I expected, though. I mean, the clothes, the hair, the makeup were just on the outside. But in order to fool Barney, I needed to sound like you and act like you. I became a lot more Lissa than Libby. It started as part of the switch, but think about it. I wouldn’t ever have thought about going after a guy like Rand, let alone going on TV to do it. C’mon, admit it. This was a Lissa move from square one.”

Lissa shrugged. “I guess. But you’re still talking about superficial stuff. You know my dark side. I’m short-tempered and unreasonable. You weren’t like that, were you?”

“No.”

“So you borrowed some of my finer points. It’s not like I’ve never channeled you when reading someone the riot act,” Lissa said.

“What about the flirting? That’s not me. Guys react to me differently when I’m being you. It’s heady, but it feels like I’m tricking people. I lose track of who I am when I’m Lissa. I know that sounds stupid, but it’s true.”

“I still don’t see the problem. You’ve confessed. Maybe he’ll need to adjust to a couple things, but fundamentally, you were being you. If he really cares, it’ll be okay.”

“Okay how?” Libby asked. “When he’s in L.A. and I’m in Philly, when he’s working insane hours on this show and I go back to living in the law library? Not to mention the moot court team competition, and—”

“Ooh, did you get on the top moot court team? ’Cause there wasn’t anything in your mail,” Lissa said.

“What? Oh, yeah. I got the competition results just before I went to Anchorage. But it’s only more stuff that will clog up my third year. Plus I still have to find a job. You know I don’t want to ask Dad for a favor, so I’ll have to go through recruiting again. Where do I have time in there for a long-distance relationship?”

“Yeah, but you can start looking for a job here. You’d be a natural for entertainment law. I bet being able to say you pulled off a perfectly legal switch on the great Marcy will open a lot of doors in this town.”

Libby stared at the ceiling, which was white and bumpy—it looked as if it had snowed upside down. “Okay, so let’s say I do that. I finish law school, get a job here in L.A., and come back in a year. Do you really think Rand is going to wait?”

“Well, if he isn’t, you don’t want him,” Lissa said baldly. “Hey, this isn’t the end of anything. You’ve been locked in
The Fishbowl
for what, two months? Welcome back to the real world. Life is messy. You’ll explain it to him. He’ll either understand and forgive you or he won’t, in which case I’ll hunt him down and slather him with honey and fire ants.”

“Ouch.”

“No one hurts my sister and gets away with it,” Lissa stated. She stretched languidly. “Well, we’d better call the parents, don’t you think?”

* * *

“Ah, the twins,” Jeremy twinkled at Libby and Lissa as they sat down in the Kiss-and-Cry, where departing Fish were handed tissues and encouraged to feel sorry for themselves. “You had me completely fooled,” he said to Lissa.

“I think you mean my sister had you fooled,” she grinned and pointed a thumb at Libby. “I was working in Anchorage all summer.”

Jeremy looked at Lissa and then at Libby, then back at Lissa. He laughed. “It really is uncanny.”

Of course, Kesha had been sent to get them matching outfits—jeans and T-shirts that had to cost more than their monthly rent, and which even then were personally tailored to fit them perfectly.

“Hey, about your job in Anchorage,” Libby said, turning to look at Lissa. “No one asked what you were doing in
The Fishbowl
?”

Lissa laughed. “The only people who asked were tourists from the Lower 48 who came into the museum—I work in the gift shop,” she explained to Jeremy, “and I had a patented look of dim confusion ready for them. The hardcore cases would not quit. They’d explain all about
The Fishbowl
, you know, ‘It’s a reality show where all these people are locked in together,’ and so on. I’d just look at them dumbly, and they’d never stop to think it wouldn’t be possible for me to be in L.A. and Anchorage at the same time. After all their explanations, I’d just say, ‘I don’t watch much TV.’ Worked every time.”

“I can’t get over how similar you are,” Jeremy said as the techs got them wired with mikes. “I was so sure I could tell you apart, and I still got it wrong. You must drive your family crazy.”

Libby winced at that image. The conversation with Mom had not been pleasant. Lissa played the “Sheila’s cancer” card more than once. “I’ll definitely have some ’splaining to do when I get home, but we haven’t switched for years.”

“Well, this switch wasn’t supposed to go so far,” Lissa admitted. “Neither of us thought any of this would happen, that’s for sure.”

Lissa was glowing. She was clearly having fun, which was nice to see. Her grin was infectious, but Libby couldn’t shake her anxieties about Rand. She’d looked for him as they were ushered into the studio, but he didn’t appear to be around. She couldn’t ask anyone, either. Some of these people must be in on Rand’s machinations to spend time with her, but other than Debbie, Libby had no idea who she could trust.

Finally, someone explained that Jeremy could ask as many questions as he wanted; they’d edit to fit the time. Libby cynically wondered if Marcy hoped the twins would make fools of themselves if the interview ran long. Hah! Not going to happen with the Pembroke girls. Dinner table conversations had honed their ability to get to the point.

During the sound check, Libby let her sister and Jeremy chat between adjustments. Someone came out to fluff her hair and powder her forehead. Libby took a sip of water and wondered for the umpteenth time where Rand was. She could see the techs were moving around, fixing this and changing that under the studio lights. Everyone else was a shadowy figure outside the Kiss-and-Cry’s lighting. He could be right over there, watching. What did he see? Could he tell them apart? Was he watching Lissa and seeing the vivacious woman he’d slept with? Or could he see Libby was the one he loved?

During the interview, Libby felt herself fading back into her role as the quiet twin. She laughed at Jeremy’s quips, and talked sincerely about living in
The Fishbowl
as Lissa. She sounded different from the way she had on the show, whereas Lissa was vibrant and sparkly.

“So, Lissa, did you watch the show?” Jeremy asked.

“Religiously. It’s hard because I would hear all the things the other players were saying about my sister. That made me angry, but when Libby was on, I wasn’t nervous. I thought she played a great game.” Lissa looked over at Libby and smiled.

“Really. I would think you’d be gnawing your fingers to the bone,” Jeremy joked.

“Libby’s so smart, I knew she’d hold her own. Did you see how she never won the Shark Fights, but won all the essential Off The Hook challenges? She never looked like a threat but she always was.” Her look was so proud and filled with love that Libby had a hard time not crying.

“So, Libby, you seem different now. How much of your performance on the show was because you were pretending to be your sister?”

“Hard to say. This whole experience has made me think about how different Lissa and I really are. People think she’s so bubbly and I’m so quiet, but I suspect we have more qualities in common than they realize.” She smiled wryly. “I know one thing, though.
I
never would’ve auditioned!”

“Why did you confess that you weren’t Lissa?”

“When Kai was sent home instead of me, it hit me—what I’m doing could have a real impact on people’s lives, specifically on Kai’s life.”

“You and Kai had an alliance, right?”

“I can’t speak for her, but I wouldn’t call it an alliance. She’s a strong player, which is probably what got her kicked out. We never verbally pledged to support each other, no.”

“So are you saying that you decided to reveal the twin switch specifically because Kai was kicked out?”

“Honestly, there are some Fish I might not have saved if they’d been fished out instead of Kai. But you have to understand—I expected to leave long before this. I think Kai’s departure made me realize that lying about my identity somehow encouraged the other Fish to think I was this ditzy type and thus no threat. If they’d known I was a law student, maybe—I don’t know,” she paused. “I don’t feel guilty about what I did. I really am a bartender part-time, you know. Lissa’s just better at it, that’s all.”

“Of course,” Lissa joked.

“So being a bartender from South Philly wasn’t a lie. And really, all my choices in
The Fishbowl
were mine.” Libby shrugged. “Maybe if Kai hadn’t been booted out, I’d still be in there. We’ll never know.”

“No, I guess we never will. Well, Libby, as you and Lissa know, we normally ask the remaining Fish to offer their farewells. I think you’ll be surprised at what they had to say in this situation.”

The tape piece was laugh-out-loud funny. Chris was clearly tickled that she’d fooled everyone. “Law student, hunh? Pretty good going, Counselor. Sorry they yanked you off the show—maybe you can file an appeal!”

Susie pretended to be annoyed. “Well, you know we considered you less of a threat than Kai, which is why we didn’t vote you out. I don’t know if I’m happy or annoyed that you’re gone and we have Kai back. But if you can fool everyone that well, I suppose I’m glad you’re gone. Good luck, sweetie.”

But it was Dylan that cracked everyone up. They’d chosen to include the tail end of his being told what happened. Libby could hear a man’s—Rand’s!—voice off camera.

“…she has been asked to leave because she was here in her twin sister’s place. Libby is a law student, not a full-time bartender.”

Dylan’s expression was priceless—a mask of confusion and disbelief. “No [
beep
]. Really? A law student? No [
beep
] way. She was an idiot, man. No way a law school would let her in. You guys got hosed. Maybe she [
beep
] lied about lying, hunh? You guys think of that?”