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The Love Twin
With her mind in a frenzy about what she should do, she drove as if on automatic pilot along Sunset Boulevard and turned onto a street lined with vast estates and palm trees. The gates were open to Mrs. Fuller’s property, and she saw the gardener putting a lawnmower into his pickup truck, getting ready to leave.
As she parked her car, she was in such a rush that she barely saw a van parked at the far end of the driveway. She grabbed her hair supply bag and ran through the side entrance which took her straight to Mrs. Fuller’s private bathroom.
As Jarrid adjusted the wires behind the projection television screen in Mrs. Fuller’s spacious living room, he felt excited about Becky’s meeting him at his store.
He couldn’t wait to show her the business he’d started. He wanted her to see the work space he was renting and meet Pete, his competent and loyal technician.
He planned to show her the high-tech audio/visual equipment he was selling. But most of all, he wanted to show her the sketches of home theater systems he’d designed in the hopes of getting future customers interested in the work he really wanted to do.
As he fine-tuned the picture on the television screen, his shoulders and back suddenly started to ache with tension. Doubts about re-entering Becky’s life rose up in him with tornado force. Would he start wanting her so much again that he would set himself up for another rejection from her?
“Jarrid, could you do me a favor?” Mrs. Fuller said from behind him. She was wearing a hair salon smock and had rollers in her hair.
“What would you like me to do for you, Mrs. Fuller?” he asked, packing up his tools.
He had met Mrs. Fuller a few years ago when he worked for another store. She’d remained a loyal customer when he got his own place of business and called him periodically to upgrade her equipment so that she could entertain her married children and grandchildren when they visited her.
“Could you check out the television sets in the three bedrooms in the guest house?” she asked. “The remote doesn’t work on any of them.”
“Sure, no problem,” he gladly replied, thankful to have her as a steady customer.
“By the way,” she added. “After you finish, feel free to take a swim in the pool before you go. My housekeeper will leave swim trunks for you in the guest house.”
He was about to politely decline since Pete would be waiting for him at the store, but he didn’t want to hurt Mrs. Fuller’s feelings. Besides, a few laps in the pool would be just what he needed to relax his tense body.
“I might take you up on it, Mrs. Fuller,” he replied with a smile.
“Terrific,” she said. “My hairdresser is finishing my hair. Then I’ll be leaving, so I’ll say goodbye for now.”
As Jarrid headed outside toward the guest house, which was a short distance from the main house, he noticed the shimmering blue water of the oblong swimming pool and the swirling foam of the hot tub.
He could feel the tension in his shoulder and back muscles already easing knowing he’d be taking a short swim and maybe even hop into the Jacuzzi.
He wanted to feel comfortable when he was with Becky. He wanted to show her that he didn’t need her love as desperately as he did when he first knew her. He wanted to start a gradual friendship with her. Nothing too heavy. In that way he wouldn’t set himself up to be hurt again.
Becky spread the floral-scented gel into Mrs. Fuller’s sleekly cut short hair. Mrs. Fuller mentioned something about a technician working in the guest house, but she was too wound up to completely listen.
She had made her decision. She was going to call Jarrid after she took a Jacuzzi and postpone stopping by his store, at least until she received her sister’s diary.
“Do you like this new style, Mrs. Fuller?” Becky asked, hoping to please her one hundred and fifty percent. She handed Mrs. Fuller a mirror and twirled the seat around giving her a back view of her hairstyle.
“Becky, it’s beautiful!” Mrs. Fuller said, happily. “You make me look so young.” She paid her generously for the cut and added a twenty-dollar tip.
“Oh, no, Mrs. Fuller,” Becky began. “You’ve paid me way too much already.”
Mrs. Fuller gently pushed the money back into Becky’s hand. “Now put on your swimsuit and jump into the hot tub. You look tense.” Mrs. Fuller picked up her purse. “I’ll see you next week.”
Becky knew Mrs. Fuller was right. She was wired to the max about calling Jarrid. Maybe a quick Jacuzzi soak would settle her down a bit and then she’d know what to say to him.
Becky slipped on her powder blue, one-piece spandex swimsuit in Mrs. Fuller’s bathroom and then grabbed a towel. As she walked out of the back patio glass doors, Becky suddenly froze.
There was Jarrid emerging from Mrs. Fuller’s pool!
Her breath caught at how handsome he was. He was wearing grass green swim trunks, and his skin glistened from the dripping water and sunlight. As he wiped down his muscled arms and legs with a towel, she gazed at his wide shoulders and broad bare chest.
Her eyes traveled down to his ample manhood pressing against the thin wet fabric of his swim trunks. Her skin burned hot. She’d never blatantly stared at a man with such sultry thoughts in her entire life!
Just as Jarrid stepped into the Jacuzzi, he turned, and his eyes met hers.
“Becky!” A gleaming smile flashed on his face. “Are you Mrs. Fuller’s hair stylist?”
She quickly nodded. “I work at the Nouveau Hair Salon in Beverly Hills,” she replied, trying to keep a calm voice when she was dying inside seeing him again. “Are you the technician she was talking about?”
“Yeah!” he replied, his eyes twinkling as though he was thrilled to see her. “I just installed a new television set for her. She talked me into taking a swim. You, too, huh?”
“Just a dip in the Jacuzzi.” She became very aware of standing half-naked in front of him.
“Come on and join me,” he offered.
She caught his gaze slowly travel down her swimsuited body. His eyes lingered on her breasts. She felt her nipples growing hard from his visual caress.
Becky hesitated. She couldn’t get into that small Jacuzzi with Jarrid, not when he was bringing out sensual feelings she’d never felt before, not even when she was with her ex-boyfriend, Darryl.
I’m here with Jarrid for Pam! she silently reminded herself. Knowing how forward Pam was, she was sure that her twin would want her to take a Jacuzzi with him. She had to act a little bolder like her sister to be convincing.
Becky slowly walked toward the bubbling hot tub, trying to contain her excitement at being with him, trying not to feel her undeniable magnetic attraction to him.
As the warm water swirled around him, Jarrid watched Becky walk toward him. The elastic fabric of her blue swimsuit hugged the roundness of her abundant breasts. Her shapely bare legs looked soft and golden in the sun. He immediately fantasized about touching the warm skin of her inner thighs.
Just then Jarrid noticed Becky nervously clasping and unclasping her hands as she reached the hot tub, as though she didn’t know what to say or do. He was momentarily surprised. The Becky he used to know was impetuous and impulsive. She said and did whatever came to her head, unaware of what anyone thought about her.
Steam from the Jacuzzi swirled between them. He held out his hand, and she hesitantly slipped her fingers through his. He guided her into the white foam. She sat down across from him, looking a bit unsure. He wanted to draw her into his arms, but he held back.
His gaze locked on her shimmering eyes. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips powder pink.
“You look beautiful, Becky, more beautiful than I remember.” The words rushed out before he could control himself. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”
Her face reddened. “Me, too, about you.”
“You have?” he asked, wanting very badly to believe he still had a chance with her.
“Oh, yes,” she responded.
Her rosebud lips parted a little. Her sweetness, her vulnerability, all of it made him ache to kiss her.
“What have you been thinking?” he asked.
“How excited I am at seeing you again,” she said in a shaky voice.
“Not as excited as I feel.”
“Wanna bet?” she added in a teasing tone.
His gaze traveled down her swimsuit. Her nipples protruded through the wet material as though she was naked in front of him.
He swallowed, wanting to touch her, caress her. He could feel his maleness responding under the swirling water.
Slow down, Browning, slow down! he told himself.
But he didn’t listen. Being near her brought out a longing within him that was more powerful than he’d ever felt for her. He impulsively leaned closer to her and gently touched her warm cheek with his palm.
“It’s crazy, Becky, but I almost feel like we’re meeting for the very first time.”
“We are,” she replied and then quickly added, “I mean, in seven years, we’ve both changed a lot.”
“You definitely have.” He traced her full lips with his thumb. “You’re an incredible woman now.”
Then he trailed his finger down her neck to the soft cleavage of her breasts, across the swollen hills, with his eyes steady on hers. He felt her tremble under his touch, as if he’d never caressed her before.
As his mouth closed over hers, he heard a voice call out, “Mr. Browning, you have a phone call.”
He turned and saw the housekeeper standing at the sliding glass door. “Okay, thanks,” he responded. “I’ll be right there.”
When he turned back to Becky, she was already out of the Jacuzzi with a towel wrapped around her body.
“Jarrid, I need to get back to the salon,” she said, her voice quivering a little.
“Will I see you later at my store?”
“I—I was wondering if we could do it another day,” she hesitantly asked. “I’m running late, and I might have to squeeze a couple of appointments in tonight.”
Disappointment filled him. “Sure, I understand. We’ll do it later.” But deep down, he felt her drawing away from him.
As she hurried back to the main building, Jarrid felt the impulse to call her back. He needed to tell her that he hadn’t meant to move so quickly. He didn’t mean to put any pressure on her. All he’d wanted was to get close to her.
Becky raced into Mrs. Fuller’s bathroom. Her skin was still flaming from Jarrid’s touch. She didn’t dare go to his store now. She’d gotten so turned on by him that she would’ve blended into his kiss with no holding back if the housekeeper hadn’t shown up.
Under the cool shower, Becky could still feel Jarrid’s warm finger caressing the tops of her breasts and his mouth touching hers. She ached to feel his strong hands cupping her breasts, pressing his palms against her nipples.
She abruptly turned off the shower water. What am I thinking? I’m with Jarrid for Pam, not myself!
Jarrid didn’t say she was beautiful. He wasn’t touching her lips. He wasn’t about to kiss her. In his mind, he was with Pam.
As Becky frantically dried herself, she glanced at her watch. Her appointment with Charlotte! She’d totally forgotten about the meeting about her sister’s job. She was so caught up in Jarrid that nothing existed for her except him.
How could she have put her own attraction to Jarrid ahead of getting her sister that L.A. job?
Becky yanked on her clothes feeling upset with herself. As she hurried out of the house, she glanced down the driveway looking for Jarrid’s van, but it was gone. She should’ve felt relieved, but instead, she missed seeing him.
Her head started to ache as she quickly got into her car. She prayed that Charlotte would tell her Pam’s job would be available sooner than she thought. She had to get her sister moved to Los Angeles right away. Because she couldn’t be in Jarrid’s presence without thinking about her own need for him!
Jarrid made a pit stop at his West Los Angeles apartment for a quick bite to eat before responding to the phone call he had received at Mrs. Fuller’s house from Pete. Pete told him that he had heard from a friend that Lyle Industries in Santa Monica wanted remote video monitors installed in each of their ten executive offices for video-conferencing purposes.
Jarrid wanted to go over to Lyle Industries in person and convince Mr. Lyle that he was the man to design their video system.
He grabbed a cold piece of leftover chicken from the refrigerator. He tried to concentrate on what he would say to Mr. Lyle, but his mind was whirling with conflicts about Becky.
In the Jacuzzi, Becky was so open to him. Her eyes held a warm caring that momentarily melted away the long-ago memories of her refusing to marry him. She looked at him like he was a new man to her, like she was getting to know him all over again.
Yet she’d acted so cool to him afterward. She wouldn’t even go to his store like they’d planned.
Jarrid hurled the bare chicken bone into the trash can. Move on with your life, he silently told himself.
In a few days he would be meeting Marie’s friend. She could be the woman who would accept him completely. The woman who would want to share her heart and soul with him.
Yet why did the idea of dating a woman other than Becky feel so wrong to him? If Becky wasn’t going to get seriously involved with him again, why didn’t he feel enthusiastic about Saturday night at Kenny’s?
Jarrid grabbed his van keys so he wouldn’t delay getting to Lyle Industries to discuss his video conferencing ideas.
Just as he opened the door to leave, he found a delivery man dressed in brown shorts and brown shirt standing there ready to ring his doorbell. He was holding a special delivery letter and a clipboard for his signature.
Jarrid quickly signed the receipt form and hurried to his van with the letter in his hand.
At a red light, he glanced at the envelope to see who it was from. There was no return address. He drove into the subterranean parking structure of the office building in Santa Monica, turning into the first empty parking spot he saw.
Jarrid couldn’t stop himself from taking a few short moments to open the envelope. He immediately spotted the typewritten name at the bottom of the letter. It was from Becky.
His heart hammered against his ribs. He wondered if she was going to tell him that she didn’t want to see him anymore. He focused on the typed words.
Dear Jarrid:
I guess I’ve gotten a bit shy over the years. It’s so hard for me to say how I feel about you when I’m with you. Will you forgive me for hurting you on my prom night? I think about you a lot. I see your face in my mind when I’m working. I see your sexy eyes. And when I’m lying in bed at night—
“Hey, buddy, you’re parked in a reserved spot!” Jarrid heard the parking attendant call out.
“Sorry!” he quickly yelled back, his stomach churning over Becky’s revealing letter.
Jarrid quickly shoved Becky’s red-hot letter back into the envelope, slipped it in his pocket and drove to the spot the attendant pointed to. She was bold in her letter, like the Becky he knew. Yet, in person, she presented a softer, shier side that appealed to him even more.
When Jarrid entered the gray-carpeted, lamplit reception area, he was told to wait a few minutes. Becky’s inviting words filled his head. Having a couple of minutes, he took out her letter and quickly read the rest.
Becky couldn’t relax sitting in the plush floral chair in Charlotte Swanson’s advertising office in Beverly Hills. Somehow, she had to get her sister to L.A. sooner than Charlotte had in mind for that job. She couldn’t go on another second pretending to be her twin when she wanted so badly to be with Jarrid herself.
She had stopped by her apartment before going to Charlotte’s office to see if Pam’s diary had been delivered, but there was no mail waiting for her. Her message machine was blinking with a call, but she was a couple of minutes late for her appointment with Charlotte and didn’t take the time to listen to it.
She saw Charlotte glance up from her three-way conference call on her videophone and motion that she would be with her in a moment.
Becky politely nodded, feeling the tension growing inside of her. She picked up the framed family photograph on her friend’s desktop of Charlotte, her husband and three children.
She admired the closeness between Charlotte and her husband. For a split second she imagined her and Jarrid in the photo as husband and wife with his protective arm around her waist, gazing at her with those brown eyes of his filled with more love than she could ever dream of.
“Becky, about your sister,” Charlotte began, flicking off the videophone screen.
“Yes, of course, my sister.”
Becky quickly set the photograph back on the desk. Every time her thoughts drifted to Jarrid, she forgot about Pam. Her fantasies about him were growing steadily out of control.
“I hope you don’t mind, Becky,” Charlotte said, “but I called your sister in New York early this morning. I offered her a very desirable salary and benefits package.”
“Oh, Charlotte, thank you so much,” she said. “How soon can Pam come to Los Angeles?”
“Actually, there might be a slight delay.”
“A delay?” Becky repeated uneasily.
“The account exec who is leaving the position your sister will fill told me that she is still negotiating a contract with her new employer,” Charlotte explained. “She asked to remain at her job for a while longer until the signed document is in her hand.”
Becky anxiously straightened in the chair. “How long will that take?”
“We’re looking at possibly another four to five weeks, because her new employer is out of town.”
Four to five more weeks with Jarrid!
Becky’s forehead started to pound. She could barely hear Charlotte say that she had already informed Pam of the delay, and her sister seemed fine about it.
Charlotte’s videophone buzzed, and she glanced at the caller I.D. number. “Unfortunately, Becky, I’m going to be on this call for a while. I’ll let you and Pam know the second my employee gives me her final date.”
Becky stood up, fidgeting with her purse, her mind in major discord. “Charlotte, thanks a trillion for your help.” She warmly shook her hand.
As Becky drove back to the hair salon, she barely noticed driving past the glitzy department stores and the prestigious international bank buildings on Wilshire Boulevard.
Her brain was in total chaos thinking about Pam’s move to Los Angeles being pushed farther away. Instead of being upset about having to pretend to be her sister even longer, she suddenly felt exhilarated knowing she had several more weeks with Jarrid!
She made a sharp turn into the parking structure for her last few hair appointments for the evening. She yanked open the door of the salon, verbally drilling into her skull the mantra, Jarrid belongs to Pam. Jarrid belongs to Pam!
Yet no matter how many times she said those words, she couldn’t wait to be with Jarrid—for herself.
“Thank you so much for this order,” Jarrid said, vigorously shaking Mr. Lyle’s hand. “You’ll be very pleased with the system my company will install.”
Minutes later Jarrid was back in his van hurrying to make a few more customer calls. But he had only one thing in mind. He had to see Becky. He couldn’t believe the rest of the words she had written in her special delivery letter. He needed to find out if she really meant what she had said.
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