Famous by Association Page 9

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded, snapping me out of the awe I’d fallen into at the mere sight of her.

  I crossed the room, saying, “I came for you, Tasha.” As soon as her name slipped off my tongue, I already had her face in my hands and my lips millimeters from hers. And then I silenced her surprised gasp by claiming her mouth with mine.

  It was the kind of kiss I’d longed for back at my place, but I wasn’t allowed to have it. But now, nothing could stop me. I had no clue where any of this would go, but at least I didn’t have the worry of a fiancé, paparazzi, or fame running me off.

  After a kiss that didn’t feel long enough, she carefully pushed against my chest, breaking our embrace. Yet she didn’t back away. Instead, she dropped her head back and gazed up at me. “How did you find out?”

  “What can I say, I’m a good guesser.”

  “Yeah, right. That’s not something you just guess. Did Dave tell you?” Concern lined her eyes, likely for the legal troubles that it could cause her best friend.

  “I didn’t tell him anything,” Dave said from behind me.

  Without loosening our embrace, I shimmied to the side so we could both see him.

  He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, one foot over the other, and a Cheshire grin plastered on his face. “All I did was tell him that Tiffany has a sister. There’s nothing in the silence agreement that states I can’t discuss her family members.”

  She glanced up at me again. “And you somehow figured out that I was the sister?”

  “Well…” Dave continued. “I might’ve also told him about her sister. Like, how fun she is, how she’s this amazing person, that she’s absolutely nothing like Tiff at all.” That caused Tasha to giggle. “I didn’t even tell him your name—he literally guessed that all on his own.”

  “Yeah, no one names their kid Tosh-iffany,” I teased.

  Breathing heavier than usual, she fisted my T-shirt and stared into my eyes. “So what does this mean? What now?”

  Unfortunately, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  9

  Tasha

  The last ten days had been pure torture.

  I hadn’t been able to spend any time with Jacoby—thanks to the watchful eye of Ty—instead, I had to endure eighteen-hour days of Tiffany Lewis boot camp. Ty showed up every morning at five, and he didn’t leave until eleven. I would’ve given anything to see what he looked like without all that Botox in his face; no one could get that little amount of sleep without major bags under their eyes.

  Dave had gone home the day after he’d kind of spilled the beans to Jacoby. I mean, technically, he didn’t break the rules, but if he hadn’t told him about Tiffany’s identical twin sister, then Jacoby would’ve never known. He’d claimed it was because he hated seeing me cry, and apparently, that was the only way to fix the issue. I really did have the best friend in the entire world.

  That was also the last day I saw Jacoby. We’d had a really good chat about what it meant for things moving forward, and we both agreed that it was entirely too soon to make any definite plans. So, for now, we would enjoy each other’s company—when we had time to do so—and take it from there. Although, the problem was that he wanted nothing to do with the cameras, and Ty could never find out that I had befriended the neighbor, because he knew it would raise too many questions after Tiffany returned to playing herself. Which meant we’d have to sneak around if we wanted to spend any time together.

  I just prayed that we would have more time to do that now, considering boot camp was over and the filming had begun. I’d received the schedule for when the camera crews would be around, as well as where I needed to be and when. It didn’t seem too bad. Most of the time, I was scheduled to be with at least one of the other “housewives,” and aside from a handful of instances, there would be hardly any filming inside Tiffany’s house. That would at least keep the cameras away from Jacoby.

  “If you need me, for any reason, excuse yourself to the restroom and call me. Got it?” Deep concern dripped from Ty’s frantic question, his anxiety practically flooding my ear. “And whatever you do, be vague.”

  We’d gone over this seventy-seven bajillion times already.

  Over the last ten days, I’d been drilled and tested on all things Tiffany—her work, her daily life, her friends—if that’s what you want to call them—and Adam. Ty had a binder full of notes that my sister had made regarding the people I’d be around, and then notes off to the side that Ty had left about how Tiffany acted around each of them. To be honest, it did come in handy, even if it made me feel like I was taking a college course on how to be Tiffany Lewis.

  How to Act Like a Vile and Bitter Millionaire 101.

  “I got it, Ty. It’s only brunch with a few of the girls.” I probably said that more for my own peace of mind than his. “It’ll be an hour, maybe an hour and a half. It’s not like I’m being forced to stay, so if I get in over my head, I’ll leave.”

  “Let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that.”

  “It shouldn’t. You’ve prepared me to the best of your ability. Now it’s time for a little real-world practice.” That was how I had to look at it, putting my studies to the test. A warm-up, so to speak. It offered us an opportunity to see where the kinks were, what I needed to improve, and what information had been left out of Tiffany’s notes.

  He released a deep and heavy sigh before wishing me luck. Right on time, too, because we had just pulled up to the front of Le Crepes. If there was one good thing about this, it was that I didn’t have to drive. The show provided transportation for most of these events.

  The hostess escorted me to the patio where a table full of wealthy women awaited me. As if my arrival had been announced, they all stood up to greet me. One by one, I kissed both cheeks of every woman in attendance before completely rounding the table and assuming the empty seat.

  I’d been told there were six of us on the show, counting me, but that only four of my castmates would be here today. I wasn’t sure why the sixth woman didn’t join us, but I wasn’t complaining. The fewer people to test me, the better.

  “It’s been so long! You’ll have to catch us up on what you’ve been doing.” That was Jeannine, the wife of record label tycoon, Michael Yates. Tiffany had noted that she was a bit ditzy and always had her nose in everyone’s business. However, Ty’s comments off to the side had translated that into she’s sweet and caring, always interested in the people around her.

  Ty had instructed me to be vague about where I’d been—the less detail, the better—and when possible, turn the question onto someone else. So that’s exactly what I did. “Oh, you know, I’ve been here and there, just enjoying a bit of alone time before the chaos of the show ensued. I heard you finally finished renovating your house. How did that go?”

  Easy peasy.

  However, my deflection was short lived. Lauren, top fashion designer turned stay-at-home mom and wife of three-time Oscar winner, Daniel Molng, piped in. “I heard you just bought a house out by the cliffs not too long ago. What made you move from Gramstown?”

  I didn’t have too much information on Lauren. From what I’d gathered, Tiffany knew Jeannine through work—both having modeled for the same designer at one point in time—which was how she got on the show to begin with. Jeannine and Lauren were best friends, so Tiff had met Lauren a few times, but I didn’t think their interaction had gone beyond that. As for the rest of the girls, she’d either had brief encounters with them or had never met them before.

  This ought to be interesting…

  “Well, we just wanted a little more privacy.” Those were Tiff’s exact words in her notes. But then I decided to elaborate by adding, “When we found the new house, I just had to have it. I love the neighborhood and location. You can’t get much better than that.”

  Lauren regarded me with narrowed eyes, almost confused by what I said, though I had no idea why. That was until Shari—actress on America’s longest-running day
time soap opera—spoke up, asking the question that seemed to be on everyone’s minds. “I thought I heard somewhere that Adam bought it for you as an early wedding present. I didn’t think you knew anything about it.”

  Now that she mentioned it, I also recalled hearing something about that.

  Oh, right…it was in my notes.

  Crap!

  “Oops…I guess I wasn’t supposed to let that slip.” I covered my mouth with my napkin and widened my eyes, hoping my new friends would fall for the overly dramatic display of surprise.

  Nicole, who was to my right, leaned in and whispered, “If you make a big deal about it, the show will more than likely air it. They tend to choose things that bring about more headlines, drawing more attention to the show. So if you ever let anything slip that you shouldn’t, just act like it’s nothing and move on.”

  I glanced to my side and offered a sincere smile of gratitude.

  Aside from things anyone could find from a simple internet search, I didn’t know much about Nicole. It seemed she had a few television roles when she was younger, but nothing that really took off. Once she caught the eye of real estate developer, Trent Rigger, there was no need for her to ever work another day in her life. Tiffany had made a few derogatory remarks in the notes, but after that one simple exchange with her just now, I immediately dismissed anything my sister had to say about these girls.

  Thankfully, the conversation around me had switched to something else—a topic I could not join in because I didn’t have kids. So instead, I just sat there and listened to what everyone else was talking about. And before I knew it, I had the baby bug.

  Lord, help me.

  By the end of brunch, I genuinely liked these ladies. There was no way I’d make it out of this alive, because I couldn’t find it in me to be nasty to them. When I read through Tiff’s notes, I thought, this is totally doable, but then I met them. Maybe it was easy for my sister to be ugly to nice people, but I just didn’t have it in me.

  And the worst part was that I’d have to keep hanging out with them until filming concluded, then they’d get the real Tiffany at the taping of the after show. These poor, poor women. They wouldn’t have a clue what hit them.

  I wondered if maybe I could tape the tell-all and just let them endure the other one next season. That would at least give Tiffany a chance to watch the show when it aired, so she wouldn’t be surprised by anything.

  Then again…why would I want to pretend to be Tiffany longer than necessary?

  Ty had been at the house for hours after the car had dropped me off at home. He wanted to know everything that was said. Actually, I had started to believe that he wanted to hear everything three or four times, because he made me repeat it until I threatened to punch him in his jugular. He’d had some concerns, but for the most part, he left satisfied.

  And about ten seconds after he drove away, I saw Jacoby walk along the side of his sister’s yard toward the pool house. This was the first opportunity in ten days to actually meet up with him. There were a few nights we had attempted to talk on the phone, but that hadn’t worked out because I couldn’t stay awake long enough to get past hello.

  Refusing to wait any longer, I ran outside and stopped him before he made it to the pool house. The smile on his face nearly made me trip and fall, but it’s not like that would’ve been the first time he’d have to pick me up off the ground.

  “I’m really gross, so you might want to hold off on touching me until after my shower,” he said with his hand out, holding me off. It bothered me a little, even though anyone could see that he was covered in dirt and sweat.

  I really couldn’t wait for the day when I could just jump on him, not at all caring how dirty he was. It’d been forever since my last relationship, but it didn’t take long to remember how much I hated the beginning stages, the getting used to each other part. It was enough to make me avoid relationships—well, that and the pain that came along with the breakup. I think the only reason I even decided to give this a shot with Jacoby was because I wasn’t in my right frame of mind.

  I was stuck somewhere between heaven and hell—my life and Tiff’s.

  “Then hurry up and go take a shower,” I teased.

  His smile grew even bigger, and for a second, I didn’t think I had enough strength in me to resist. “All right. I’ll do that and then come over. How does that sound?”

  We quickly made plans for dinner—he’d cook for us at my place—and then I headed back while he cleaned up. Which meant I was stuck at home by myself, watching the seconds tick by on the clock until he came through my patio door.

  I sat on the counter in the kitchen while he concocted something with whatever ingredients he found in the fridge and pantry. All the while, we talked about my day and what we’d both been up to over the last week and a half. He seemed far more interested in hearing about Ty’s boot camp than anything else. Apparently, he found it humorous.

  Then we ate in the living room, sitting in front of the TV that neither of us actually paid attention to. We were too busy continuing our conversation from earlier. But by the time we finished dinner, I was tired of talking about Tiffany and my portrayal of her.

  “Is this really how it’s going to be all the time?”

  He turned to the side, facing me, and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Like, is this all we’re ever going to talk about?”

  “No, but as of right now, it’s the most interesting thing that’s happening in our lives.” He wiped his palm down his face and sighed. “It’s not like I knew any of this when we were hanging out before. This is the first time we’ve actually had a face-to-face conversation about it since I found out who you really are. Sure, you and Dave explained some things, but this is the first time we’ve been able to talk about it freely without anyone else around.”

  He made a good point, though that didn’t mean I was interested in talking about my sister to the guy I had the hots for. “Fair enough, so how about this… How about you get ten questions, which I will answer to the best of my ability, and then we move on to something else. Does that sound good to you?”

  Jacoby nodded and then sat back, lacing his fingers together behind his head as if getting more enjoyment out of this than he should have. “Okay, for my first question…why did you agree to do this if you hate it so much?”

  “Money. Next question.”

  He looked like he was about to argue, but instead, he asked, “Why do you need the money?”

  “The youth center does a great job of keeping kids off the street. But it doesn’t do anything for the ‘non-athletic’ ones, the kids like me and Dave. So I want to create a space for gamers. Just because they’re not troublemakers doesn’t mean they don’t need a safe haven, too.”

  He was quiet for a moment. It was clear that my answer had caught him off guard, but he quickly cleared his throat, shook his head, and moved on. “Do your parents know that you’re doing this whole Tiffany takeover?”

  “No. The only people involved are Tiffany, Adam, Ty, Dave, and me. Well, and now you, but you don’t count because you’re not supposed to know.”

  “What happens if other people find out? I mean, I did. It’s not that big of a stretch to think someone else might figure it out, too.”

  “As far as I know, Tiff has never admitted to even having a sister, let alone a twin. I know enough about her to imitate her around others. For the most part, they’ll probably think she’s on drugs, at which point, I don’t care. But the chances of anyone finding out are slim to none.”

  “That actually doesn’t answer my question, so it doesn’t count.”

  I rolled my eyes, figuring he’d try something like this. “Fine, I guess it would depend on how someone found out. If it was because of something I did or said, I could be held liable—same goes for Dave. Which is why it’s super important that Ty never finds out that you know. Dave didn’t technically break the NDA, but he could still be found liable, which would mean he’
d be responsible for paying Tiff a lot of money.”

  The severity of the situation finally hit him.

  In his silence, I stated, “You have six questions left.”

  “Do you have to do any filming with Adam?”

  It was slight, almost unnoticeable, but I saw it—the twinge of jealousy at the thought of Adam spending time with me. Part of me celebrated the sight. It was like I had a small gang of teenage girls inside jumping for joy and giggling at the excitement of the cute boy smiling at them.

  I did my best to keep a straight face while responding, not wanting him to know that I’d noticed his tangible thought. “No, he didn’t want anything to do with the show, so he made sure they don’t film him at all. Which works out well for me because that means I don’t have to be around him. I don’t know much about him, but if he’s with my sister, then there’s something wrong with him.”

  Jacoby laughed beneath his breath and slightly shook his head. “I think I’m going to reserve my remaining five questions for another time. I’d be wasting them if I had to use them right now. Plus, that controller is calling my name,” he said, pointing to the one I’d been using before he showed up.

  I was not about to argue. Playing video games was so much better than talking about my sister or the dangers of anyone finding out the truth. Gaming was easy, fun, and it didn’t require a conversation.

  “How about we make things interesting?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “The loser has to massage the winner’s feet.”

  I didn’t care to touch feet, but I did enjoy a good foot rub. “Deal.”

  It didn’t take long before I realized I’d been playing against Dave for far too long. It seemed I was so used to his tactics and moves that it hindered my ability to play strategically against Jacoby. Before I knew it, my lives had been depleted, but when I checked the left side of the screen, I noticed his lives were still very much intact. I couldn’t lose for several reasons, but the biggest being my incredible disgust for feet. It was so severe that it trumped my pride, the need to be the best.