let out her breath in a short hiss. “What are you up to?” she asked sharply. “What can Alice possibly do for you that I can’t?”
Sharlayne’s smile was beatific. “Alice can be me,” she said. “And now I know she will.”
DINNER WAS ANNOUNCED before Alice could do more than say a thoroughly confused, “Huh?” Sharlayne and Mr. Wilbert ate in the formal dining room; Tabitha had a tray sent to her room; and Alice grabbed a sandwich and took it outdoors to eat on the terrace overlooking a lovely formal garden.
What in the world was Sharlayne up to now? “Alice can be me,” she’d said, yet that must surely be a joke. No one could be Sharlayne Kenyon, but most especially not Alice Wynn.
For openers, Alice was relatively unsophisticated. A registered nurse, she’d spent nearly a decade caring for an invalid grandmother in her small Nebraska hometown. Only after her grandmother’s death had she been free to look around for a job—and a life—of her own.
Hooking up with Sharlayne had been a stroke of good fortune. Alice had gone to visit a distant cousin in California, and when she’d happened upon an automobile accident, had gone to the aid of the injured. One of the victims was Sharlayne, who’d suffered a broken leg and a terrible scare: she’d thought at first that her face might be scarred.
In her matter-of-fact way, Alice had reassured Sharlayne. When Sharlayne was released from the hospital, she’d hired Alice to tend to her at home on a temporary basis. That had quickly evolved into full-time employment, with Alice in charge of meal planning and the general health of the household. She’d set up an exercise schedule and saw to it that Sharlayne, who had couch potato tendencies, stuck to it. From the beginning, Sharlayne had also used her new employee for general gofer duty, which hadn’t bothered Alice in the slightest. She hadn’t spent ten years fetching and carrying for a crotchety old lady for nothing.
The job was fun, the surroundings elegant, but the biggest plus was a generous salary that helped defray the staggering hospital bills for Grandma’s final illness. With a light finally visible at the end of her personal tunnel, Alice settled in for a long run.
She’d never imaged being so close to so much glamour. For a little girl from Nebraska, it was dazzling. Through Sharlayne, Alice had met many beautiful people, among them a gardener with whom she’d had a brief but passionate affair. Strangely enough, perhaps, she’d never met any of Sharlayne’s rich and famous ex-husbands, although she’d heard many stories about them.
Yes, she definitely owed her boss. The method of repayment, however, eluded her.
When Sharlayne summoned Alice later that night, she went with some trepidation. Again, she entered the library to find the same three waiting for her. She sat down without invitation, her knees suddenly rubbery.
Sharlayne’s smile would set a garden statue at ease. “I’m sure you’d like an explanation,” she said gently.
Alice nodded.
“You know I’ve been trying to finish my book,” Sharlayne said. “It’s going quite well, actually, when I can find the time to work on it. That’s where you come in.”
Alice waited.
“I want you to pretend to be me so I can slip away to some hiding place and finish the manuscript,” Sharlayne said, as if proposing nothing out of the ordinary. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Alice and Tabitha said in unison.
Tabitha threw in a scathing glance. “You can’t possibly be serious.”
“I’m deadly serious,” Sharlayne said calmly.
“Nobody,” Tabitha said flatly, “will ever believe this Plain Jane is you.”
Alice sputtered, searching for words to defend herself that didn’t come. She’d be the first to admit she was no Sharlayne Kenyon but neither was she a Plain Jane.
“When I get through with her,” Sharlayne said with total confidence, “her own mother will believe she’s me. It’s not that big a deal, Tabby.”
Tabitha huffed and puffed, muttering “Hopeless” and “Ridiculous” and “Insane.”
Sharlayne laughed. “No, seriously.” She turned back to Alice, who sat speechless with astonishment. “This will work,” she said. “How tall are you?”
“F-five-eight.”
“Me, too. Our bodies are also basically the same. They should be—we do the same workout every day. I’m a bit more buxom—”
“An understatement,” Alice observed, looking pointedly at Sharlayne’s generous cleavage.
“That’s why God invented push-up bras, dear.”
“But—but—you’re blond.”
“Ever hear of bleach?”
This suggested she probably wouldn’t be swayed by the fact that Alice’s hair was twelve inches longer. That’s why God invented scissors. “Our eyes aren’t exactly the same color,” she stated as though she’d finally settled upon a valid difference.
“That’s true. Yours have less gray in them. But nobody will notice that unless they see the two of us together, which they won’t. Blue is close enough.”
“Okay, then—” Alice began again, grasping for straws. “My nose is shorter.”
“Again, unless we stand side by side, who’s to know? Besides, makeup will go a long way toward negating that.”
“Sharlayne.” Tabitha’s tone was agonized. “This is insane. She’d never get away with it.”
“She will if I put out the word I have laryngitis,” Sharlayne said triumphantly. “If I set her up in the New York apartment, there could be a problem. But we won’t do that. She can move into the new house in Beverly Hills, where nobody’s met me. You’ll be with her, of course. Everyone knows that where I am, you are, too, Tabby.”
“No!” Tabitha turned on Alice in a fury, as if the situation were her fault. “I should be with you, Sharlayne, wherever you’re going.”
Sharlayne shook her head. “Impossible. If you’re not with her, nobody will accept that she’s me.” Leaning forward, she squeezed Tabitha’s hand. “You’ll do this for me, dear. I can’t imagine you’d ever let me down.”
The uncharacteristically mute Linden said into the sudden silence, “I’m beginning to see how this could actually work.”
Alice turned to him, wide-eyed. “You can?”
He nodded. “There are certain basic similarities. If no one gets close enough—”
“Aha!” Alice gazed at everyone triumphantly. “There are always people around you, Sharlayne. How could I keep them away?”
“You won’t have to. I’m going to hire a bodyguard to run interference for you.”
“A bodyguard!
