“No, really, you can tell me, Lyle. Does it have to do with Dalia?”
Flicking my eyes up to hers, I watch her for a moment to see if she’s actually listening or if this is another one of her listening acts. Frowning, I nod, and rest my hand on my chin.
“Lyle, Lyle, Lyle, when are you going to learn?” Sandy asks with a smile. “That girl has always had a way of screwing with you, even when we were younger. You were always just too thick headed to see it.”
“So you do remember who she is?”
“Of course I remember who she is, I’ve hated her since the first time I met her.” She laughs like there’s a joke in there somewhere. I don’t laugh, and she notices. “Come on, Lyle. . .” She lets my name linger in the air as she stands up from the desk and moves behind me.
Her hands slide over my shoulders and she starts to massage deep into the muscle. “You’re so tense, you need to relax.” She works her fingertips, moving them down my back. They slip back up, and she rolls them over the front to my chest. “I can help you relax, Lyle, I can make you feel so good.” Her hands keep moving lower and lower as I feel her lips feather across the back of my neck.
Launching from my seat, I throw my arms up to swipe her off me like a spider. “What the fuck, Sandy! What the hell are you doing?!”
“What? What’s wrong?” She has a look of confusion on her face, like she really has no idea what I’m referring to.
“What’s wrong? You’re not seriously asking me that.” My tone is hard and loud, unable to hide the disgust I feel right now. Shaking my shoulders, I try to kick this feeling off me. I feel like there’s still something crawling on me. “This is wrong! You are wrong! What the hell are you thinking?”
“Oh come on, Lyle.” She takes a step forward, attempting to reach for me. “After all this time, you still haven’t realized it yet?”
“Realized what?”
“Realized that the perfect girl has always been here for you.”
Oh no. No fucking way! No way in hell!
Jerking my arm out of her reach, I glare at her. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re my sister—my fucking sister, Sandy.” Crooking my jaw, I shake my head. “That’s fucking gross.”
“It’s not gross, Lyle, it’s perfect. We’re twins, we have a connection. The connection between us is stronger than anything you could ever build with someone else. I’ve been here the whole time; you’ve just been too blind to see it.”
“Get out,” I demand, pointing my finger at the door. “Get the fuck out of here!”
“Lyle,” she says, attempting to come closer. “Just think about it, think about it and you’ll see what I see. We were made for each other.”
“Get the fuck out, Sandy! I don’t want to see you! Go!” The anger I feel is brutal. I can’t even believe she’s coming at me like this.
Her eyes pop open wide, nostrils flaring in anger and rejection. Dropping her head, she storms past me, not saying another word, and running out the door. And I’m happy to see her go.
Sandy is looking for something I’ll never give her.
Not now.
Not ever.
11
Dalia
“What are you wearing?”
“A dress, obviously,” I say with a giggle. “It’s green, strapless—”
“No,” she says, cutting me off. “I don’t want to hear about it, I want to see it. Send me a pic.”
“Kira, no, I’m practically inside already. I’m not going to stop and take a picture of myself.”
“Come on, Dalia. How can I tell you how you look, if I don’t see it for myself? Take a quick one, it doesn’t have to be perfect.” I hear her pop the cap on a champagne bottle, and the fizzle as it explodes out the top.
“What are you doing? Is that champagne? Are you celebrating something?” I ask.
“I might have just landed the head nursing position at Regency.”
“Oh my God, Kira, when did this happen?”
“Earlier today.”
“Congratulations!” I yell, causing the other people walking past me on the sidewalk to whip around and stare at me like I’m crazy. Lowering my voice, I keep talking. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you, I’m excited. I worked really hard to get here, and it finally paid off. But we can talk about me later. Right now, I want to see the dress you picked.”
“All right, fine, one sec.” Taking a second to look around, there are people everywhere. I groan quietly to myself, wishing the street was empty. But that’s never going to happen, this is New York, the city that never sleeps. Holding out the phone, I click the camera button, and snap a quick picture. Hitting send, I ask, “Did you get it?”