With my finger hovering over the red button, I looked at Ty. Aside from random grunts and groans, it was as if he hadn’t been here. Then again, anytime Tiffany was in the room—through video feed or in person—everyone else faded. And I didn’t mean that in a complimentary way, either. Everyone disappeared because Tiff always made everything about her.
I tapped the screen, disconnecting the call, and then handed the device to a sullen Ty. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t. She’s caused more damage than you know, and I refuse to give her an opportunity to rub salt into my wounds.” I couldn’t believe she had the gall to contact me after so long and practically demand that I give up my life to bail her out again. I was done letting her take advantage of me.
“I really wish you’d reconsider. A lot is riding on this, and she’ll make it worth your while.” The iPad lit up in his lap with an image of Tiff on the screen—pre-Mexico. That picture was enough to remind me of all the torment I’d had to endure at her expense.
I stood from the couch and said, “There isn’t enough incentive in the entire world to do her the tiniest favor, let alone something of this magnitude.” I was still patting myself on the back for repelling Tiffany’s latest scheme. I was proud that I could stand on my own two feet.
“You think I don’t know what a horrible person she is?”
I turned, finding Ty on his feet, the iPad flashing with the incoming call sitting in his open briefcase. Desperation clung to his every feature, down to his fisted hands at his sides. For someone who had appeared completely put together, he seemed to be falling apart before my very eyes. I couldn’t look at him and turn down his request simultaneously, so I stepped away and headed for the door. I had my fingers wrapped around the knob, ready to expedite his exit, but his next words stopped me dead.
“She’ll pay you fifty grand a month.”
1
Tasha
“I’m not wearing that.” I crossed my arms, rejecting the tenth outfit in a row. “I don’t understand why I have to dress like her if I’m not even leaving the house. I’d get it if I were going shopping or something, but I’m not.”
It was very clear that Ty was more than tired of my defiance. He huffed, shook his head in reprimand, and then stood in front of me with his hands on his hips. “Because, Tasha, if you want people to believe that you are the Tiffany Lewis, then you have to play the role all the time, which includes being at home. The tiniest slip-up could ruin this entire thing.”
We both knew I wouldn’t care if that happened.
But the money meant something to me, and for that reason, I needed to try.
“There have to be boundaries, Ty. I refuse to become my sister. I’ll pretend to be her for the camera’s sake. I’ll act like her in front of others, or anytime I’m in public, but please don’t ask me to be her when I’m all alone.”
“How exactly do you expect people to believe you if you don’t practice?”
I had to laugh. Really, his question, though serious to him, was quite comical. “Ty, I hate to be the one to point this out, but I grew up with that snobby wench. I was on the receiving end of her entitled attitude for more than eighteen years. If anyone knows how to imitate my sister accurately, it’s me. No practice needed.”
“All right, fine. Have it your way.” He trotted off to the closet that was bigger than my bedroom. Well, not the bedroom I resided in while living in Tiff’s house, but the one at the apartment I shared with Dave.
I missed my apartment, but not as much as my best friend.
Ty returned with a pair of nude pumps dangling off two fingers and a hanger in the other hand. On the hanger was a black dress, though it looked more like a shirt. He held them out and said, “Wear these and walk across the room.”
“I’d love to, but there’s just one problem. There’s no way I’m going to fit in her dress. I’m a couple sizes bigger than she is.” It was something I was proud of. Seriously, it wouldn’t have hurt Tiffany to eat a few hamburgers from time to time.
“That’s okay…she has shapewear in the drawer.”
“Shape what?”
“Shapewear.” The smile on his lips showed just how much he enjoyed this. Maybe he was more like my sister than I originally thought. Then again, you couldn’t breathe the same air as her as much as he did and not become her. “It’ll suck you in enough to fit into the dress.”
“I don’t want to be sucked in. Just saying it out loud creeps me out.”
He rolled his bright eyes and sighed. “Tasha, dear…everyone wears them.”
“Clearly not, because I don’t.”
“Do you want people to figure out that you’re not Tiffany? Because they will if you show up in public with a bigger waist and smaller tits.”
I stared at him for a moment. Then I blinked—slow to start, then rapidly as I mentally worked through his words. Once I decided that I hadn’t misunderstood him, I laughed in his face. I laughed so hard that I fell backward on the bed and held my sides.
“This isn’t funny, Tasha.”
“Yes, it is. It’s very funny.” I sat up and took several deep breaths to calm myself enough to speak. “First of all, I’m here because Tiff is holed up in some back-alley doctor’s office recovering from plastic surgery performed by Dahmer. When she does come back, there will be a lot more than our weight difference for people to notice.”
He quietly mulled that over before nodding. Although, he
