Body Double Read online

  Body Double

  by Alane Hudson

  Body Double

  Copyright 2013 by Alane Hudson

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  This ebook has been magically enchanted by an evil wizard previously thought to be fictitious. Should this book, which is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, fall into the hands of one who did not purchase it, the enchantment will cause noxious flatulence and warts to appear in places no one wants mentioned in public. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you like this book soooooooooooooooooooo much that you want to share it with your friends, family, neighbors, grocer, or proctologist, please thank the author by purchasing a gift certificate for each desired recipient at your favorite ebook store so they can get their own copy the legal and proper way. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it from a legitimate source, you might want to start checking for unmentionable warts and people fainting behind you. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work.

  This book is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents depicted herein are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Alane Hudson. Photographs are copyrighted by their respective copyright holders and are used per license agreement.

  Song lyrics by fictional recording artists Carol Carpenter and Heather Hargreaves written by Alane Hudson.

  Body Double

  "For a million bucks, would you marry a complete stranger?"

  Andrea Lindholm has been at the altar before—alone. Two years ago, her fiancé failed to show up on the day of their wedding, forever changing her outlook on marriage. Now she’s being offered enough money to solve her financial woes in exchange for acting as proxy for another woman—Andrea's double—in her marriage to handsome and rich Blake Thomas. All Andrea has to do is play the part of the bride in the wedding and then share a two-week honeymoon in Hawaii with Blake.

  Old fears of being jilted resurface as the wedding day approaches. But after she meets the dashing groom, her ability to distance herself from the job becomes more challenging every day. Will Andrea be able to cash out of this arrangement with her heart intact when Blake’s new wife claims her place at his side?

  Chapter 1

  Andrea Lindholm checked her watch again as she scanned the parking lot for a vacant spot near the door. Two-fifty. Good. Ten minutes early. It was her first interview since losing her job two weeks ago, and she hoped to hell she wasn’t about to screw it up.

  She pulled her eight-year-old Focus into a space, threw it into park, and picked up the leather portfolio from the seat beside her. They already had her résumé, but Andrea had brought two extras, letters of recommendation, a photocopy of her diploma, and her Graduate Certificate in Community Engagement. She was ready. With a deep breath, she stepped out of the car and headed for the building’s entrance.

  Above the door hung a wooden sign with a lighthouse painted on it. Its yellow beam shone toward the golden letters that spelled out The Lighthouse against a painted night sky. The door caught and scraped against the concrete when she pulled it open, and she tugged it closed behind her. Not a great first impression, but things could be worse—she could blow the interview.

  The cramped lobby had a stained and threadbare orange carpet and an ugly and dented metal desk upon which hunched an old computer monitor of the hulking, fifty-pound variety in a dull beige. An empty office chair sat behind the desk with a green sweater draped over its back. Opposite the desk, to Andrea’s left, was a bench and two mismatched chairs, and a side table on which old magazines were splayed like oversized playing cards. Just as she was about to take a seat, someone—or something—heaved a sigh. What in the world—

  The door behind the desk opened, and a fresh-faced brunette stepped into the lobby. “Oh! Dr. Gentry, I’m sorry. I thought...” A quizzical look appeared on her face, and her thumb pointed back over her shoulder. Her gaze dropped to Andrea’s pale blue blouse and navy skirt. “Oh, my.”

  Warmth flooded Andrea’s face. All right, so she shopped at thrift stores. Lots of people did. She hadn’t been criticized for her clothing since she was thirteen. Rather than make an issue out of it, she put on a smile, stepped forward, and offered her hand. “I’m Andrea Lindholm, here for a three o’clock interview.”

  The woman cupped it warmly in both hands, smiling mischievously, and then shook her head slowly. “I cannot wait to see the look on her face.”

  Andrea looked down at herself. Her outfit wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and professional, especially compared to the receptionist’s blue jeans and green Hug A Tree t-shirt. Though Andrea’s blouse wasn’t exactly conservative, the ’70s wouldn’t be calling, wanting their outfit back, either. “Have I chosen poorly?”

  “Oh! No, no. You look fine. I’m Tracy, by the way. It’s just... well, you’ll see.” She smiled again and rubbed her hands together like an eager child. “I’ll let Dr. Gentry know you’re here.” Tracy picked up the phone on the desk and punched a couple of buttons. “Your three o’clock is here,” Tracy sang in a teasing lilt. “Okay.” She placed the phone’s receiver in the cradle and sat behind the desk. “She’ll be right out.”

  “Thank you.” Andrea checked her watch again out of nervousness. Two fifty-five. “How long have you worked here?” she asked Tracy.

  “Three years. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s a great place to work. Fulfilling, you know?”

  Andrea nodded. She’d first heard of The Lighthouse when her former boss suggested she submit a résumé when they were shutting down The Delmar Center. As it turned out, The Lighthouse wasn’t that different from Delmar, but rather than providing a safe haven for runaways, it provided shelter and legal representation for victims of sex trafficking. For a social worker looking for a way to make the world a better place, it sounded ideal. “The shelter residents aren’t here though, are they?” she asked.

  “No, they’re in another facility. We’ve had their former, ah, employers come looking for them.” Tracy made air quotes when she said employers. “It wouldn’t be safe to keep them here. That lighthouse sign above the door might as well be a beacon. ‘Come get your girls back. They’re right here.’ Um, no.” Tracy wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Not gonna happen. This is just where we run the business.”

  “That makes sense,” Andrea said. “It must be scary when those jerks come here looking for them.”

  “It can be, but they don’t stand up to our security guard.” Tracy crooked her finger to beckon Andrea closer and then pointed to the floor beside her. “That’s Hank.”

  At the mention of his name, Hank raised his massive, blocky head and licked Tracy’s outstretched finger. From the floppy, triangular ears and the black and brown fur, Andrea guessed Hank was a Rottweiler, and a big one at that.

  “I thought I heard someone sigh,” Andrea said. “He didn’t even bark when I came in.”

  “Doesn’t need to. He can handle just about any situation we might encounter. Unless, of course, the perps walked in with a basket of kittens. Then we’d be in big trouble. Hank’s a sucker for kitties.”

  The door behind Tracy opened, and a woman walked in, blond like Andrea, with the same height and build... and face.

  Andrea’s jaw dropped. It was like looking in the mirror at an equally shocked reflection.

  Tracy cackled, slapping her knee. “I love it. Damn, I should’ve gotten that on video. Dr. Gentry, meet Andrea Lindholm. Ms. Lindholm, this is Dr. Sarah Gentry.”

  “Well, butter my ass and call me a biscuit,” Dr. Gentry sai
d. “Oops. Sorry! You caught me by surprise. I sure am pleased to meet you.” Though she looked enough like Andrea that they could be sisters, her voice was deeper and she spoke with a Southern drawl.

  Andrea chuckled, hoping to disarm her potential new employer. “I’m pleased to meet you as well, Dr. Gentry. I’ve heard wonderful things about The Lighthouse.”

  “Please call me Sarah. Are you on a tight schedule?”

  “No,” Andrea said, following Sarah down a carpeted hallway. “I’ve got no plans until evening.” She didn’t have any plans at all, but she wanted an out in case this interview turned into a time-sucking monster.

  “Good,” Sarah said over her shoulder, “because I have a feeling this is going to be a long interview. Where are you from?”

  “San Diego,” Andrea said. She’d heard about people who had doubles, people who others said looked just like them. Never had she ever considered that she might meet hers someday. “Went to Cal State for my undergrad degree, and then Stanford for my Master’s. I’ve been in the Bay Area for around three years now. Your accent sounds like Georgia.”

  “You’re good. Atlanta born and raised. Moved out west for grad school and never looked back.” One of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling buzzed and flickered as they walked under it.

  “Your family must miss you.”

  “My mama died when I was a kid, and my father’s as ornery as a coon with a toothache. I couldn’t stand to be around him, so I moved as far away as I could get. To punish me, he bought a house here, and so he spends half his time pestering me.”

  “I see.” Andrea cringed inwardly. People always seemed to tell her more personal details than she cared to hear, which was one reason she went into social work as a career. What did one say to someone whose only parent was a thorn?

  “Are your folks still around?” Sarah asked.

  Andrea nodded. “They left San Diego a few years ago though. Too expensive. They moved to Phoenix, and now they complain about the heat.”

  “Oh, I could not live in Phoenix. Atlanta’s hot, but not that hot. Summertime is for playing outside, not being trapped in an air conditioned house.”

  Andrea laughed. “I couldn’t agree more. The weather is one reason I love California.”

  Sarah entered an office and offered Andrea a seat in one of the two upholstered chairs in front of the desk. Though the building was older, the desk, curtains and area rug gave it a comfortable, modern feel. To Andrea’s surprise, Sarah grabbed a manila folder from her desk and sat in the vacant chair beside her rather than across the desk from her. “As eager as I am to find out more about you on a personal level, I’d like to get the most pressing questions out of the way. First, tell me about your life at The Delmar Center.”

  Andrea recapped her three-year career counselling runaway teens before the center was shut down. Delmar was a non-profit arm of a larger corporation that was recently purchased by a bigger company, which had no interest in a non-profit organization. Rather than offer it for sale, the new owner just shut it down. The poor kids were shuffled off to another organization or left to fall through the wide-open cracks, and six social workers and psychologists were suddenly in the unemployment line. Andrea was grateful that her boss, Raymond, had given her the tip about the opening at The Lighthouse.

  Sarah in turn told Andrea about the job, about providing emotional support for the shelter residents. Most were girls and women who’d been abducted and sold into sexual bondage, but there were some boys too, whose emotional and physical scars ran every bit as deep as their female counterparts’. It sounded like deeply fulfilling work that called to Andrea, and she was more afraid of not getting the job than of the emotional toll it would take on her to work with severely abused clients. She knew that this was where she belonged, and she listened eagerly to Sarah explaining the benefits and the salary.

  “Raymond gave you a glowing recommendation, and you have all the credentials I want in a social worker,” Sarah said, smiling. “I knew even before I met you that you were the one, but I never make a job offer without first consulting my VP and CFO, Charlotte. She’s out of the office right now, but I’ll talk to her this evening. I expect to make you an offer by the end of the day tomorrow. Will you call me if you get another offer before then?”

  Andrea felt giddy. Everything was working out better than she’d hoped. “Sure I will.”

  “Perfect. Now, I’ve got to take off my CEO-interviewer hat for a minute and ask about you personally. Do you mind? I wouldn’t normally ask these kinds of questions, but our circumstances are unusual.”

  Andrea laughed, feeling very much at ease. She liked Sarah and could see them remaining friends whether they worked together or not. “I don’t mind at all. I’m as curious as you are. How can two people who are unrelated look so much alike?”

  “I know!” Sarah pulled off her designer shoes and sat cross-legged in her chair like a child eager for a story around the campfire. “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight.”

  Sarah nodded. “Twenty-nine here. What’s your birthday? I’m December fourteenth.”

  “August fifth. Do you have siblings?”

  “No, just me. I almost had a baby brother when I was six, but his birth was difficult and he didn’t make it. How about you?”

  “A brother and two sisters, all blond-haired and blue-eyed.” Andrea noted that Sarah’s eyes were green. She noticed a few other differences too. Sarah’s lips were thinner, her hair was several inches shorter, and she had a small birthmark on the side of her jaw. Her eyebrows were thicker and unplucked, whereas Andrea carefully shaped her own.

  “Your eyes are such a lovely shade of blue. Do you wear contacts?”

  “Unfortunately, but they’re not tinted,” Andrea said. “You?”

  “Not yet. I use reading glasses when no one’s looking.”

  They spent the next half hour comparing hands, shoe sizes, and food preferences, and tried mind-reading games like a couple of teeny-boppers at a sleepover. It was the most fun Andrea had ever had at a job interview.

  “Are you married?” Sarah asked.

  Despite her best effort, Andrea’s mind conjured the memory of standing in her wedding gown at the window, watching for Sean’s car to pull screeching to the curb. She’d been annoyed to find out he was late, and that annoyance turned to concern that he’d been in an accident, but when one of his groomsmen came knocking, cell phone in his hand and a look of sympathy on his face, Andrea knew she’d been jilted. She spent the next six months crying herself to sleep, the year after that foreswearing men, and had only started dating again eight months ago. “Not yet. Still waiting for the right guy. How about you?”

  A shadow crossed Sarah’s face. “I’m engaged.”

  “Congratulations. You must be so excited,” Andrea said, though there was nothing about the bride-to-be that conveyed excitement.

  “It’s... complicated.”

  As soon as Andrea was in her car, she crammed her Bluetooth headset into her ear and dialed Monica, her best friend since their freshman year of high school.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” Monica said on answering. “How’d the interview go?”

  Andrea pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. Though the traffic was heavy, her apartment was only a few miles away. “Beyond awesome. I can’t even begin to tell you how well it went.”

  “So you got the job. Congrats.”

  “Technically, she hasn’t made an offer yet, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure she’ll be making one tomorrow. She just has to discuss it with her VP, and then, if all goes as expected, I’ll be gainfully employed again. I might even be able to make next month’s rent, assuming I don’t get the hankering for a pizza between now and then.”

  “Hot damn! So it sounds like a good place?”

  Andrea told her what she’d learned about The Lighthouse and what an excellent cause it was. She was eager to get started, though she knew it would take time to learn how best to approach
and help people who’d learned to trust no one.

  “But the most interesting part about the whole thing was the CEO.”

  “Oh?” Monica asked with a drawl. “Is he cute?”

  “She’s a she, and get this. She’s my double.”

  “What do you mean ‘double?’”

  “She looks exactly like me.”

  “Cripes! Another stunning blonde? Average-looking girls like me are probably crying into their beers right now.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re gorgeous, and besides, you’re married.”

  “Does she really look that much like you?”

  “Mo, I swear it was almost like looking in a mirror. Even her receptionist mistook me for her when I walked in.”

  Monica paused a few seconds. “That’s a bit freaky. How would that work? I mean, if you look that much alike, won’t that make it hard to work with her? People always double-checking who you are before talking to you, or confiding personal information or spilling corporate secrets because they think you’re the CEO?”

  “As the CEO, she probably spends most of her time in the administrative offices or out doing businessy stuff. I’ll be working with the shelter residents. Besides, we’re not exact duplicates. She has green eyes, for instance, and thinner lips, bigger boobs, and she’s a tiny bit taller. There are other differences, too, minor things.”

  “That has got to be strange.”

  “It was so funny. Both our jaws dropped at the same time, which made it even more mirror-y. It feels like this was meant to be, but I’m afraid to get too invested, you know? In case the VP nixes the whole deal.”

  Monica laughed. “That’s not going to happen. It sounds like this is the right job for you.”

  “I sure hope so. I’ll be on the edge of my seat until that call comes though.” Andrea didn’t have any money saved up, and her parents couldn’t afford to bail her out of a jam. She pulled into the parking lot of her apartment building and navigated into her assigned spot.