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“Wait, you’re not mad,” I say. “Why aren’t you mad?”
She pauses. “You know, when I heard there was someone passing themselves off as me, I was. I was freaking furious. I thought it was like, a scam. Or con-artist, freeloading off my work and reputation. I came over all worked up to confront you. But now…” she regards me over her wineglass. “Well, even the best con-artist in the world couldn’t come up with a story like that.”
I sink lower in my seat. “I really am sorry.”
“I know.” She grins. “But you know what I learned on my retreat?”
“Probably the secret to amazing skin.”
“I already have that,” Jennifer says airily. “Vampire facials. They purify your own blood and inject it back in your face.”
“They what?” I shriek. “Sorry, off topic.”
She laughs. “No, what I really learned is that what’s meant for me won’t pass me by,” she says, sounding wise and totally woo-woo, all at once. “Everything finds its rightful place. It’s not like you’ve actually stolen anything,” she points out. “I would never have taken the spa marketing job, it’s not my vibe. Plus, it is your name, too. Who’s to say I haven’t accidentally taken something the universe intended for you?”
“Uh, because I definitely didn’t have anything you would have wanted,” I say. “You have the most glamorous life—all the jet setting, those spicy emails from your adoring lovers. I’ve been totally jealous. I had the same boring job since college, my life is entirely predictable. I mean, it was, until this.”
Jennifer smiles. “I don’t know, that sounds pretty good to me. I have this urge to keep moving, all the time, and it gets to be kind of exhausting. I’d love to feel more stable. Your life seems… I don’t know. Safe. Cozy.”
I’ve never thought about it like that. “It is cozy. I literally have a knitting circle.”
“Shut up,” Jennifer laughs. “That’s incredible! I’d kill for something like that.”
“But what about all your amazing adventures?” I ask, confused. “It looks like you’re always having a blast.”
“Because I know how to take a great pic,” Jennifer replies, rueful. “You know, I kind of freaked out about turning thirty. That’s why I took off for the retreat, I thought I would magically get all the answers. But you can’t outrun yourself, you know? I mean, I’ll always be an adventurous person, but I can’t keep dodging the big decisions about the next phase of my life.”
“Thirty does feel big, doesn’t it?” I sigh. “Like we should know what we’re doing.”
“Exactly.” Jennifer laughs. She tilts her head, considering me. “You know, I think maybe we could learn from each other and our whole alternate dimension Jennifer thing. I could stand to be more grounded…”
“And I could use a little morejoie de vivre?”
“Exactement,” Jennifer says. Of course she has a perfect French accent. “I do believe in fate. Maybe we were meant to meet.”
“Maybe,” I say. She’s being so much more generous than I ever imagined. “I wonder if there are any other thirty-year-old New Yorkers named Jennifer Walker. We could start a club.”
“Into the Jenn-iverse,” she shrieks. “We could have our own animated feature.”
“Or a TV series that branches out into other cities.Real Jenn Walkers of Atlanta.”
We giggle for a moment, then Jennifer’s expression turns serious. “So what are you going to do now?”
I sigh. “I have to tell Austin, I know. For real, this time. But it’s the worst timing in the world. Our big launch is this week, and the last thing I want to do is stress him out or distract him. He’s put so much into this business, not just money, but time and passion, too. It means everything to him.”
“Well, listen,” Jennifer says. “I can lay low for a while. You find the right moment to tell him everything. No need to make a splash until the timing is right.”
“You’d do that for me?” I ask, touched.
“Sure.” Jennifer raises her glass. “Us Jenns have to stick together.”
After Jennifer leaves,I get ready for bed, but I can’t sleep. I stare up at my bedroom ceiling, playing a montage of all the times I could have come clean to Austin. There was always a good reason not to.
Right?
But I know, deep down, that was just an excuse. A lie I’ve been telling myself to make me feel better.
And I can’t keep lying anymore. To myself—but especially not to Austin. He deserves so much more than that.
