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This is definitely going well.
Peter starts to say something, but a young guy brings over a bowl of bread and sets little bowls of what looks like oil next to it. This isn’t like the places I’m used to eating at. The fanciest appetizers I’m used to are stale chips and salsa.
I wait to eat until Peter takes a piece of bread and swirls it around in the oily substance. Then I copy his actions.
It practically melts in my mouth. My tastebuds sing in joy, and this is just bread and oil.
He lifts a brow. “Now you’re trying the vinegar and oil, too? Who are you, and what have you done with my wife?”
My stomach crashes to the floor.
Peter laughs. “Actually, I love that you’re trying so many new things lately. What brought that on?”
It takes me a moment to recover. He didn’t just figure out that I’m a fraud. “Sometimes routines get boring, and I want to see what the world has to offer.” Although Angie will be doing all the normal things at home, and I can’t have him thinking that she’s doing everything differently. “But sometimes routines are comforting, too.”
He nods, looking deep in thought. “I don’t know if you noticed, but you inspired me to order a different side dish.”
“Roasted potatoes instead of mashed. Living on the edge.”
“That might be taking it a bit far.” He chuckles.
Mandy returns and pours us some dark red wine. I’m surprised Peter’s willing to have any, given his job, but maybe he’s one of those people who has to drink a lot before it affects him. I’m not one of those people, and given I can’t afford much of anything, I’ve always appreciated that about myself.
The wine is even better than the bread and oil. I have to restrain myself from hoovering all of it. The main dishes haven’t arrived yet, and for all I know, more comes before that.
Peter tells me about his morning, but most of it goes over my head with medical terms and names of doctors I’ve never heard of. But I nod because I’m sure Angelina probably could follow along easily.
By the time we’re done eating, I’m stuffed. I can’t remember the last time I ate this much in one sitting. Maybe never. Growing up, I was always scrounging for food in an empty fridge. My adult life hasn’t been much better, having spent so many years taking after Mom and wasting most of my money on the next hit. I had a few boyfriends who tried to take care of me, but it never worked—not until I was ready on my own.
Now I’m eager for so much more, and this extravagant meal is just the beginning.
Peter places his fabric napkin on his plate. “Do you have room for dessert?”
I don’t think I have room for another crumb, but that doesn’t stop me from agreeing to a sweet treat. The delectable truffle pushes me over the edge. I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit everything up. I shouldn’t have gorged the way I did, but I couldn’t help myself. At least I won’t have to eat for the rest of the day. Maybe not tomorrow, either.
The good news is, I’m starting to feel more at ease around Peter. I love the lingering touches and looks he’s been giving me. I’m winning him over, and he trusts me. Doesn’t doubt I’m his wife.
Now we’re ready for the next phase of my plan, which I’ll usher in at our next date.
ChapterThirty-Three
Over the last week, I’ve gotten used to answering to Angelina’s name. I’ve had a lot of practice since I’ve been talking with more people and learning more about the woman whose life I’m going to step into. Surprisingly, this boring town is starting to grow on me. People are friendly without having an angle. They aren’t looking for ways to use me, or at least not in the manner I’m accustomed to. It seems like those snooty PTA ladies are up to something, but I’ll let the real Angelina deal with them for the time being.
The only thing I don’t like about this place is living in the van. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot nicer than the crappy apartment I was in before, but a person needs a bathroom. I had to get creative with my showering until I figured out the Londons have a membership at a country club—I thought those only existed on TV, but they’re real. And they have locker rooms much nicer than any bathroom I’ve ever used. The best part is, I don’t even need Angelina’s membership card. Workers see my face and welcome me in.
I’ve been tempted to eat at the club’s restaurant, but I’m being careful with my purchases on the credit card. One wrong move, and I’m caught. I can’t lose my twin’s life. It would be like losing my own at this point.
It’s been over a week since my date with Peter at the steakhouse, and I’ve only had short encounters with him since then. Just a few quick lunches, mostly in little delis, and I certainly haven’t had time to kick Phase Two into gear yet. It’s frustrating, but I know my patience will pay off eventually.
Angelina’s had him largely to herself. But that’s fine. It’s given me the chance to get to know other people around town. I’ve only met a couple people who seemed to doubt me, but I quickly convinced them. It’s enough to keep me from getting too comfortable. I can’t let my guard down for a moment.
Having Angelina’s face does have its benefits. Since nobody knows she has an identical twin, it’s easy pretending to be her. People are all too eager to believe it. Questioning it means questioning their senses.
Now I’m waiting for Peter at another restaurant. This time, I’m going to use self-restraint and not stuff myself silly. I could barely move for the rest of the day after our lunch at the steakhouse. Today I need to be on the top of my game.
Phase Two starts as soon as Peter arrives.
And there he is. He has the day-old beard again.
