Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Aren’t you going to greet me?” Simon asks.
I relax the trimmer at my side and approach him. When I lean in to kiss his cheek, he turns, and my lips hit his mouth. He offers a gentle peck, and I take it, knowing it’s best to just give him what he wants, especially if I want him to explain why the hell this guy’s here.
I turn to his guest, close enough now to see that even the subtle gray hue in his blue eyes looks just right. Disturbingly so.
“These hedges are looking great,” Simon observes.
I nod, but just want him to tell me what fucked-up game this is.
“Come on, Ryan. Be polite and say hello to our newest employee.”
“Employee?”
“You said you needed help around the yard. Mr. Finley is here to assist you in whatever way you may need.”
“Assist?” Simon’s attempt at an explanation only confuses me more.
Mr. Finley steps toward me, extending his hand, and I pull back instinctively. He’s not Kieran, and he’s clearly older, but…wouldn’t Kieran be older too?
“You can call me Jonas,” Kieran’s ghost says, keeping his hand out.
Simon’s grin overtakes his face. I’ve often wondered if I look that villainous when I smile. After all, we share the same face—something Jonas is noticing since he glances between us, maybe trying to find some identifying feature that will set us apart in his mind.
“You didn’t mention I would be working for your twin,” the look-alike tells Simon.
“My brother has a bad habit of leaving out pertinent information.” I can’t disguise the bitterness in my tone.
“Maybe I just like surprises,” Simon replies, then returns his attention to Jonas. “I figured you could take the day to get settled in, and start tomorrow?”
I open my mouth to object, but nothing comes out. If I could, I don’t even know what I’d say, but probably something accusatory toward my bastard of a brother.
I need to get into this with him, but not in front of his poor victim. “It’s nice to meet you, Jonas,” I say curtly. “I should get back to work.”
I fire up the trimmer and hear Simon say, “He’s busy right now,” before offering to give him a tour of the yard and introduce him to the other workhands.
Once they’re a safe distance away, I glance at Jonas’s profile.
It’s the same face—how is it the same face?
Where did Simon find this guy?
My nerves are so on edge, hands stiff on the trimmer, gut clenched. Feels like I might vomit. Fortunately, I manage to keep it together until they return to the house.
Normally, my work helps me escape the past, but not today. Jonas’s face brings back a torrent of memories I struggle against, my rage at Simon intensifying over the next hour until I can’t contain it any longer. I head inside to confront my brother about what must be some kind of perverse joke.
I find him in his office, his fingers clicking away on his laptop. I wonder if he’s really in the middle of an engrossing email or if he started faking as soon as he heard my footsteps coming down the hall.
“What the fuck is this?” I ask, approaching him like I might have when we were kids, after he’d pulled some mischievous prank or cheated during Monopoly.
He grins before glancing up. He looks so damned pleased with himself, as though he’s planned this so perfectly, he knew exactly how I’d react—and of course he would. Who would know me better than my twin brother?
“Yes, Ryan?” he asks, simpering, looking even more mischievous than when he approached me with the stranger with Kieran’s face.
“You know what you did.”
“I got you the help you asked for, didn’t I?”
“Millions of people in the world you could have found, but you found him?”
“I thought it’d be a comforting face.”
Rage sears like a hot poker stabbing into my chest. “Simon, I let you have your way around the house. I let you do whatever you want. But I won’t let you have this.”
“It’s my house, Ryan. My money to do what I want with, and I let you stay.”
That isn’t true. I can stay here because of the provisions in Father’s trust, but I don’t bring that up. I can’t get sucked into Simon’s red herrings. There’s only one thing on my mind now: “Please let him know we won’t need his services. If this was your way to screw me out of extra help, then Morgan, Forsyth, and I can get along just fine. There. You win.”
Because he fucking loves to win.
Simon looks to the bay window like he’s considering what I’ve said before he pushes to his feet and starts around the desk. “Ryan, I don’t think you want me to do that. In fact, I know you don’t want me to do that.”
Why would he say that? “Are you suggesting I want him here because he looks like Kieran?”