“Tosh? Are you there?” Her face came back into view once I turned the device around. “We must have a poor connection; I think I lost you there for a minute.”
“I’m here, and I can see you just fine.” I had to bite my lip to keep her from witnessing my smile. “So, sis…you wanna tell me what happened to your face? I hear that you had some work done. Please tell me they aren’t finished.”
“No. There were some complications.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what? They ran out scalpels, so they used butter knives instead?”
“It’s good to see you haven’t changed, Tasha.”
“No, but you sure have. You look like Leatherface operated on you,” I continued, giggling between sentences. There was no point in showing concern over learning that she had voluntarily mutilated herself. “Oh my God! It’s painful to even look at you! It’s like Angelina Jolie and Caitlyn Jenner had a love child that was run over by a train! Please tell me you’re not paying whoever did that to you!”
“Well, I can’t say your appearance is much better, but we can get to all that’s wrong with you once we get to the reason for Ty’s visit. I’ve asked him to speak with you about—”
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to take the marshmallows out of your mouth. I’m having a hard time hearing you.”
“Tasha! Enough! I get it!” Tiff attempted to yell, but instead, she sounded like a rabid Rottweiler being choked by a chain while wearing a muzzle that was made for a Chihuahua. “Despite my feelings on this, I need your help. If there’s anything else you need to get off your chest, do it now so we can get this over with.”
“You give a whole new meaning to Scarface. You should see if there are any auditions for the role on Broadway. You’d be a shoo-in.”
If she could’ve moved any part of her face behind the swelling, she’d likely gut me with one sneer—the same one she had perfected years ago that made me feel like gutter trash. It was a good thing that her eyebrows were stuck in the middle of her forehead.
She sighed and continued. “I am Adam King’s fiancée. That means I have a certain image to uphold, especially if I’m expected to show my face on TV. Which brings me to my dilemma… I’m currently tied up in Mexico while I heal—and before you ask, I came here so the press wouldn’t catch wind of my little makeover. In Adam’s social circle, aging is not an option.”
“Tiff, we’re twenty-eight. In what world is that considered old?”
“I’m sorry…did you not hear me? The world of famous people!”
“My apologies. It’s hard to understand you over the sound of your lips.”
“Whatever. Listen, I need you to pretend to be me, just for a little bit. I can’t afford to back out of this opportunity. And no one besides you, me, Ty, and Adam needs to know. Now, I understand you’re not fully equipped to handle this responsibility, nor do I feel confident that you can pull it off, but I don’t have any other options.”
It was beyond clear that my sister was never good at asking for help, especially from me. Even though she’d been very skilled at talking me into things when we were kids, I was an adult now. An adult who could definitely speak for herself. “Let me get this straight…you don’t think I can convince anyone that I’m you, but you want me to do it anyway? That makes zero sense. And why? What’s so important that you can’t back out of?”
“A reality show.”
“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen. Find someone else.”
She groaned. “Tasha, we’re twins, not triplets. There is no one else.”
As much as I didn’t want to play along, I couldn’t deny that I found the thought of impersonating my sister a little entertaining. “What all would I have to do? Because I’ll tell you right now, I will not get jiggy with your boyfriend.”
“God, no.” If Tiffany could move her face, she’d likely look as disgusted as she sounded. “No, nothing like that. You just need to live in my house, and when the cameras are around, pretend to be me.”
“I guess it wouldn’t be too difficult to act like I have a stick up my butt, but there’s one issue that no one seems to have thought of. Don’t you think your neighbors might realize that I’m not you?” Then again, that would mean she’d spoken to the people who live next to her. And she wasn’t that kind of person.
“That won’t be a problem; I just bought the house. I haven’t met them yet.”
I vaguely remembered my mom saying something about that the last time we spoke, but I’d only half-listened to that conversation. Really, I could’ve waited for their Christmas card to be updated on all the wonderful things going on in my sister’s life.
“How long are we talking about here?”
Her swollen lips vibrated when she hummed. “Two months.”
I scoffed, which earned me a groan from Ty. “That will be fixed in two months?”
“Three at the most.”
“Hmm…wanna know what I think? I think you’re mentally insane. It seems all that silicone and Botox have gone straight to your brain. Two months was bad enough, and now you’re saying it could be three? Yeah, well, thanks for the offer. But unfortunately, regardless of what you may think, I’m not that desperate. I’ll pass.”
“Give me one good reason,” she demanded, as if I wouldn’t be able to come up with one.
“I have a job that I happen to love. I can’t just disappear for two months—possibly three—and expect them to hold my position. And last time I checked, impersonating my sister so she doesn’t lose her spot on some mindless reality TV show while she recovers from a back-alley surgery in Mexico isn’t covered on FMLA.”
“Oh, yes…how could I possibly
