Secret Fantasy

And then there was the other reason she’d gotten engaged—the one Juliette hated to admit, even to herself. While neither her mother nor her father had ever asked for her to sacrifice, she’d always taken the expected road. Perhaps because Gillian had taken on the part of the wild child, Juliette, the older sister by a matter of minutes, had always seen her role as that of the good girl. So when Stuart set his sights on Juliette, she’d fallen into the relationship without question. Because she’d recently been hurt by a man more interested in her father’s name and connections than in her, Stuart who’d always been a part of her life, seemed safe. And because her parents liked and trusted him, they’d been thrilled and could claim “they knew Juliette and Stuart belonged together all along.”

But they hadn’t belonged together and if Juliette had looked hard enough, she’d have seen the signs. Yet she’d never questioned their relationship, not even their lukewarm sex life, which deep down she’d blamed herself for. Certainly her previous painful affair hadn’t boosted her confidence. Perhaps she’d known all along that if she questioned her decision, she’d discover she’d repeated her mistake. Stuart wanted leverage in achieving her father’s soon-to-be-vacant senate seat. Nothing more. Especially not Juliette Stanton, the woman.

“Earth to Juliette.” Gillian snapped her fingers.

She shook her head. “Sorry. Too much thinking going on. No, I haven’t heard a word since our confrontation in the church. But what’s he going to say? ‘Thanks for keeping the press off my back so I can take your father’s place in November’?”

Gillian sniffed in disdain. “He could say, ‘I’m an ass.’ That would be a start.”

“I agree. And considering he all but threatened to drag Dad down with him, he’s trusting me to keep quiet about why I bolted.” Stuart was her father’s protégé. His choice to succeed him. If Stuart’s shady dealings came to light, Juliette’s father, his decisions and choices would all be suspect, tainting the good he’d accomplish

ed during his tenure.

Gillian clenched her teeth. “He’s trusting your love for Dad.”

Juliette let out a harsh laugh. “He’s certainly not banking on my love for him.” Or what was left of it.

She’d thought they shared caring and consideration based on their years of friendship. Even after scandal had hit the papers, accusing Stuart’s business partner, Congressman Haywood, of laundering Mob money through Coffee Connections, their import-export business, she’d believed her fiancé’s denials. In this instance, she hadn’t shut her eyes to the truth, rather, like her father, she’d believed in Stuart’s integrity. And since Stuart hadn’t been labeled as an accessory and the story about Congressman Haywood had later been retracted, she’d trusted her instincts.

How wrong she’d been. Again. She’d caught Stuart red-handed, his business partner and the reputed Mob boss having a tête-à-tête in the church minutes before she and Stuart were to be married.

She faced her life and the lies at last, confronted him and walked out. And though her parents supported her decision and her need for privacy, she knew they too were waiting for an explanation.

Gillian let out a groan. “We both agree that this needs to be kept under wraps until you figure out a plan, but I don’t like the fact that Stuart’s let the press pin you with the Runaway Bride rap.” She picked up a videotape box containing the movie of the same name. “You might have similar hair—did I mention I love the curls?” She flicked at one of Juliette’s long spirals with her fingers. “And since this is the last time I have to sit for hours with the blow-dryer to copy your stick-straight hair to fake out those reporters, I’m eternally grateful.”

Juliette laughed. “Thanks.” She loved her new look, too.

She’d secretly always envied her sister’s ability to thumb her nose at convention and just be herself, cameras and press be damned. Juliette hoped her new loose-flowing perm, like her free-spirited sister’s, would change both her appearance and outlook for her upcoming trip. If there was ever a time to let loose, this vacation would have to be it.

“Did you pick up those things for me at the mall?” Juliette asked her twin. If her fiancé had been interested in planning a honeymoon instead of a political campaign and election, she’d have the wardrobe basics ready to go. But Stuart had insisted they couldn’t get away. Now she knew why.

“Got ’em. I put them in the empty suitcase while you were on the phone earlier. And you’d be so proud of how I finagled that trip without being followed.” Gillian grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

Juliette cringed. “I’m sure I don’t want to know. It seems everyone’s been making sacrifices to accommodate me these days.” She hated the high maintenance perception that was the result of this nightmare. First her stylist had agreed to do spiral curls and a haircut at her house, not wanting his salon inundated by the press, and now her sister was running around like an undercover spy—and loving every minute.

“They’re not sacrifices, they’re favors. And we love you, so we don’t mind. But I hate that you’re stuck in the house and practically branded, you know?” Gillian tapped her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor. “Damn, I wish we could leak this story.” She shook her head. “But we can’t.”

“Not yet. Dad’s established a long tradition of serving this country. He’s well liked and respected. He has a place in history he’s earned. No way I’ll let him go out tainted by scandal. He doesn’t deserve it.”

Gillian nodded. “I agree.”

For their father’s sake, the secret had to stay secret a little longer. Juliette drew a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Okay.” Gillian rose from her seat and grabbed for a bag.

“So let me get this plan straight. I drive your car dressed like you, while you sit in the passenger seat pretending to be me,” Juliette said.

“So far so good.”

“We drive past the reporters, to your apartment where the rest of the vultures are waiting, and pull into the secure underground garage.”

Gillian nodded. “Right. Where they have no access.” Her laugh bordered on giddy at the thought of outwitting the press. “They think you’re visiting me and to reinforce the impression, I, dressed as you, go up to the lobby and out to the convenience store on the corner before heading back inside. They won’t be looking for us to go anywhere while we’re presumably hanging out together.”

“Meanwhile I slip into the back seat of Dad’s car, driven by his chauffeur, cover myself with a blanket and end up at the airport.”

“Exactly. And if anyone happens to see you, they’ll think you’re me. No one’s going to bother following me once I have no access to you. Voilà! You’re home free and on your way.”

Juliette stretched her arms out wide. “Ready to begin a glorious week of fun, sun and solitude.”