“No, Seth did.” Matilda studied her carefully. “Seth always ends relationships.”
Did he?
He hadn’t ended theirs. She’d been the one to do that.
She felt a stab of guilt. Was she the reason he always
ended relationships now? Had their short, painful marriage put him off commitment altogether?
Being afraid of commitment just didn’t sound like him. But ten years was a long time, wasn’t it? He’d probably changed.
She certainly had.
“So why was Naomi wrong for him?” Damn, why had she asked that? Now it was going to look as if she cared, and she didn’t. She really didn’t. It was of no interest to her who Seth dated.
“She was saccharine sweet. And a little manipulative, although it took a while for me to spot that. She got her own way through charm. She tried to manipulate Seth, but he wasn’t having it. I felt a little sorry for her to be honest. I think she genuinely adored him, and it was a little uncomfortable to watch. The more she wrapped herself around him, the more he withdrew.” Matilda sipped her tea. “Have we reached the part where you tell me why Chase thinks you’re Harriet? You told him that?”
“Actually Seth did.” Fliss stared into her coffee. “I got myself into a bit of a fix.”
“Sounds like you could use a cookie.” Matilda pushed the box toward her. “And a friend.”
Fliss reached into the box and pulled out a cookie. She nibbled the corner absently and then frowned. “This is delicious.”
“I know. If I could only ever eat one food again it would be this cookie. It’s from Cookies and Cream.”
Fliss chewed slowly, savoring the explosion of sugar and comfort. “No idea where that is, but I need a map right now.”
“It’s on Main Street, next to that boutique that sells all those gorgeous beach clothes, none of which I can squeeze into anymore.”
“Harriet loves that place. And you’re tiny apart from your bump.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been called many things in my life, but ‘tiny’ isn’t on the list. The bump affects my balance. Most of the time I look like a cross between a drunken camel and a giraffe who swallowed a watermelon.”
“You look nothing like either of those things.” Deciding that willpower was overrated, Fliss took another cookie. “And in case you were wondering, this isn’t emotional eating. It’s ‘these are too good to pass up’ eating.”
“I believe you. Now tell me why Seth thinks you’re Harriet.” Matilda put her mug down. “You were married. He can’t tell the difference?”
“Apparently not.” And yes, that rankled. If real life was like a movie he would have looked into her eyes and known her instantly. “That’s the downside of having a clone.”
“But there must be a million upsides. I often thought about doing a twin story, but I assumed that in real life people would probably be able to tell twins apart.” She studied Fliss. “But you two really are identical.”
“Only on the outside.”
“It’s uncanny. But you’re right, apart from looks, you don’t seem to be much like each other.”
“Even in looks, we have our differences. Harriet smiles. I scowl.” Fliss reached across and closed the box of cookies. “You might want to move that to a locked cupboard. And don’t let me see which one because I’ve been known to break into locked cupboards in my time.”
“So do you do this a lot?”
“Eat cookies? It happens occasionally, especially when someone leaves an entire box out on the countertop.” She took a bite. “Weird, when you think about it.”
“I meant, do you pretend to be your sister?”
“Last time was when we were kids. Someone was bullying her.” Remembering still had the power to make her angry. “They needed a little education on how to treat people.”
Matilda’s eyes gleamed. “And no doubt you educated them in style.”
“I think my solution had certain elements of style.” She waved the cookie, scattering crumbs. “Would have done it anyway, but I decided it would have more impact if they thought it was her.”