Trading Places

Sharlayne touched the nondescript brown head covering and frowned. Her face was free of makeup and she wore sensible shoes and a dress that actually fit like a dress, not a banana peel. “Awful, huh?”

“Not really. In fact, you look a lot like me.”

“I guess that’s the point.” Sharlayne turned her laser gaze on Tabitha. “What do you think? Did she do all right?”

Tabitha’s lip curled. “She barely got by. If she’d been trying to fool anyone who actually knew you—”

“That won’t happen,” Sharlayne cut in impatiently. “Now, both of you listen. Wilbert’s waiting for me at the service entrance. If you have any questions, this is the time to speak up.”

Alice asked quickly, “Where will you be?”

“That’s strictly top secret.”

“But what if I have to get in touch with you?” Alice felt a touch of panic at the prospect of being completely stranded and on her own.

“Tabitha will always know where to find me. She’ll also handle all the credit cards. Anything you want, up to but not including a mink coat, go to her.”

That didn’t sit well. Not that Alice had a hankering for a mink coat; she just didn’t have a hankering to go begging to Tabitha. “I don’t like it,” she said unhappily.

Tabitha said with malice aforethought, “Too bad. That’s the way we’ve worked it out.”

“Easy.” Sharlayne gave her senior assistant a warning glance. “Try to get along, will you? We want Alice to enjoy this experience, after all.”

“She’s already enjoying it too much.” Tabitha’s gaze was malevolent. “Flirting with that bodyguard—”

“Great!” Sharlayne looked delighted. “That’s exactly what I want her to do—act just like me.” She smiled at Alice. “Relax, honey. You did just fine or Tabitha wouldn’t be so annoyed.”

“This time,” Alice conceded. “But when I run into someone who already knows you—and I inevitably will—all the artful makeovers in the world…all the designer clothing and glittering jewels and fabulous surroundings…won’t get me through. I have to admit, I figured this could be fun—”

“Not to mention profitable.”

“That’s true.”

“Well, stop worrying about it,” Sharlayne said as if her mind had already turned around in another direction. “Do the best you can. Any time you can gain for me will help. I’m going to finish that book if it kills me.”

“Okay,” Alice said, “but this seems even crazier now that we’re into it.”

“Alice, listen to me.” Sharlayne leaned down to peer into eyes nearly identical to her own. “People see what they expect to see, not what’s actually there. If they expect to see Sharlayne Kenyon, they will.”

“But what if—”

“Alice, you’re whimpering.” Sharlayne straightened, her manner stern. “Let me remind you what’s at stake here—a brilliant tome detailing my brilliant life, and a debt-free future for you. Isn’t that worth a little stress and strain?”

“I suppose, but what if I’m found out? What if—”

“Hush and listen to me. You’re also getting a chance to live a fantasy most women would kill for. A mansion, a good-looking man at your beck and call, servants, a good-looking man, designer clothes, a good-looking man—”

“Okay, I catch your drift. A good-looking man.” Alice, who had never in her life been free of money worries or had any male, good-looking or otherwise, at her beck and call, was putty in Sharlayne’s hands. But one question still remained. “Why do I even need a bodyguard, good-looking or otherwise?”

“You don’t,” Sharlayne said calmly. “Let me explain this one more time. He’s just around to keep people away, so they won’t get wise to the switch.” She glanced around the bedroom, clearly impatient. “Now, I really have to get out of here. Last chance for questions.”

Her words reminded Alice of the part of the wedding ceremony where the minister asks if anyone present knows why this couple should not be joined together. This was definitely a now-or-never moment.

She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged.

Sharlayne said, “Good. In that case—ta-ta, ladies. Tabitha, keep me posted. Alice, enjoy yourself.” With a final conspiratorial wink, she was gone.

Alice turned to Tabitha, who was staring at the door through which her boss had disappeared. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “Nobody with a grain of sense or an eye in his head would ever accept you as Sharlayne Kenyon.”

“You better be wrong,” Alice said, “because if you’re right, we’re both up the proverbial creek without a paddle.”

This time, she didn’t flinch before Tabitha’s glare. She was, after all, Sharlayne Kenyon.

CHAPTER THREE

Nothing ventured, nothing gained; or,

my greatest creation is me

By the time I was twelve years old, I was five foot four and measured 25-22-23. I guess you could say I became something of an overnight sensation in Hog Jaw, Arkansas….

That Book About This Body,

Sharlayne Kenyon

TABITHA JOINED Alice and Jed for dinner at the big hand-carved Spanish table in the formal dining room. This might have thrown a lesser woman into a rage, but Alice was more grateful than anything else. As cute and sexy as this man was, better not to take chances, even in the guise of a wild-and-crazy adventuress.

A maid served the meal: an enormous salad, broiled chicken and assorted veggies. Dessert was an incredibly light lemon mousse. Watching Jed devour the food, she began to wonder if he would starve to death before this job was over.

Meals were planned with Sharlayne in mind: heavy on fruits and veggies, light on meat and carbs. But with Sharlayne out of the picture, Jed could use a little consideration.

At the conclusion of the meal, she leaned forward with a deliberately inviting smile. “Would you care to join me for coffee in the living room?” she asked Jed.

He hesitated, then nodded in his usual brusque manner. “Good idea. I need to report on the results of my security check, anyway.”

As if the pleasure of her company wasn’t nearly enough.

Tabitha looked spitefully pleased. “I believe I’d like to sit in on this, too, Sharlayne. I’m naturally interested in anything that pertains to your safety.”

“Naturally.” Alice gestured to the maid, who indicated with a nod that she understood.

In the living room, Alice took a seat on the overstuffed red sofa; Jed chose a chair opposite, while Tabitha hovered near the heavily carved fireplace, her eyes narrowed and watchful.

“Tell us, Mr. Kelby,” Tabitha said as the maid poured coffee from a silver pot, “is Sharlayne safe here?”

Jed waited until the coffee had been served and the maid departed before answering. Then he said, “Ms. Kenyon is safe only if there’s no threat. There is no security system.”

Alice gasped. “You’re kidding.”