“You go in and find Kylie. Stick to her, because she and Stacy look so much alike, if some sicko has his sights set on Stacy, there’s a chance he’ll mistake Kylie for her, which puts them both in danger. I’ll find Stacy, stay close to her, and ensure nobody tries anything. At the first opportunity, I’ll try to wrangle her outside so we can move to a more secure location and question her about the letter.”
“Okay. I’ve got your six. How do you plan to get her to leave with you?”
“I have no clue, but I’m figuring the ski mask might come in handy.”
“You don’t think she’ll recognize you, just from…I don’t know…pheromones or what have you?”
“Under flashing lights, in the middle of a jam-packed costume party?” Ian shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“If you get her out of Deuces under false pretenses, she’s going to be pissed.”
“Better pissed at me than staving off the advances of some delusional lunatic.” He inspected the pistol and loaded a magazine. “Besides, she’s already broken up with me. What else can she do?”
“Okay. Agreed. And if she’s with a…ah…new friend?”
“She’s not looking for a new friend, because she’s still in love with me.” He forced some confidence into his voice, but in truth, his vision went red around the edges and his pulse spiked at the idea of Stacy in the arms of some other guy. Technically, she was a free agent. She could hook up tonight, tomorrow night—any night she chose.
“Maybe she loves you, but after a month of your famous ‘wait her out’ treatment, she’s probably given up on the notion of receiving the heartfelt apology you owe her.”
“I told you before. I do not owe her an apology—”
Trevor simply kept talking. “She’s probably decided you’re a lost cause, hence…new friend.”
Ian leaned down and holstered the Smith & Wesson in his ankle holster. “She can un-fucking-friend him.”
Chapter Three
Lights blinded Stacy the minute the chauffeur opened the limo door.
Cameras whirred. She lifted her chin, plastered a sly smile on her face, and let the driver help her out of the car. An audible gasp came from the small crowd of media and onlookers gathered around when Kylie got out and stood beside her. She expected the reaction. They’d elicited it their entire lives. They looked that much alike.
She had a moment to tell the driver to take Mandy wherever she wanted to go, before a petite, auburn-haired entertainment reporter from the local news thrust a microphone in
their faces. “Okay, ladies, who’s who?”
“I’m Stacy, and this little devil right here”—she gestured to Kylie—“is my sister, Kylie.”
“Twin sister, obviously,” the reporter observed, working her way between them, smiling for her cameraman. “The resemblance is…amazing.”
“I’m the pretty one,” Stacy said, and everyone laughed.
“Kylie, are you an actress too?”
“No, no. Stacy got all the performing genes. I’m a yoga instructor.”
“Nirvana on Ninth,” Stacy added, figuring Kylie ought to get a little plug out of the interview.
The reporter aimed the mic toward Kylie. “You must be very proud of your sister…breaking out so big in the hottest new show of the season.”
“I am.” Kylie smiled at Stacy. “For a lot of reasons, including the show.”
“We’re proud of each other,” Stacy said.
“There you have it, folks. A mutual admiration society here with the Roberts twins. Are you ladies ready for Deuces’ infamous Halloween Hedonism party?”
“I think we are.” Stacy angled to the side and struck a pose for the cameras, arching her back to maximize the profile of her figure, which she knew the little white angel gown showed off to perfection. “What do you think?”
Hoots and catcalls came from the crowd of onlookers.